-headed president, "that you will enjoy this
scouting expedition all the more because you are on the trail of a white
man. But while I am going to trust to your own good sense and your
knowledge of your people in running this lie right back to the man who
fathered it, I want to caution you to play well inside the rules of the
game.

"Now, you are out to hit the trail of that lie and chase it home. When
you have corralled it, let me know what company it is keeping and I will
tell you what to do next. Lamson has been a good client and this lie may
run away from him. If so, we must not offend him and thus lose his
account. But if it hikes home to his ranch house, then I want to know
what he is doing, and the nearer he is related to this rumor, the
quicker we shall cash his hop receipts and cancel his note.

"If you find it necessary to use the bank's authority, then come out
strong as ambassador plenipotentiary and read the stiffest kind of a
bluff to your man in the name of the Elliott Bay National Bank. Talk as
little as possible about the bank; but when you do talk, make every man
jealous of your connection with the institution. A conservative remark
may bring a new customer to our books; a flippant word may go into
business for itself and start a run that no bank could weather. Now get
at it, and let us hear something from you by day after to-morrow."

Scout! The president himself had said it! The Indian's blood thrilled
with his commission. His voice shook a little in its attempt to be very,
very steady as he telephoned out to the reservation station for a
saddle-horse. Then he ran for the five o'clock south-bound train.

At eight o'clock Kitsap arrived at the reservation. On all sides were
the lights among the camps, where the hop-pickers were making merry.
More than one group hailed him as he passed, demanding to know if he had
come out from town to dance, to gamble, or to see a maid. But he had
replied to each in kind and pressed on to his father's house. Kitsap the
elder greeted his son in the native tongue.

"Huh! Is The Coyote still prowling?"

"The Coyote hunts big game for his _tyee_, my father. Let The Coyote's
horse be cared for till he returns."

Then Kitsap, the bank clerk, decked himself as an Indian should and as
The Coyote went forth to listen at many camp-fires and to hear what
tales were telling there. Till far into the night he prowled, learning
what families of Indians were picking for Lamson