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Updated: May 18, 2025
For the first time in his life he was in an Indian village, surrounded by wigwams, all of them similar to Kiddie's teepee, only that his was cleaner and better made, and decorated with more care. The village was pitched in the midst of a green valley, through which ran a narrow creek, bordered with willows.
What was his game prowlin' around here an' tryin' ter make friends with the dog?" "I'll tell you that," returned Nick, glancing across at Rube. "It was all quite innercent. I knew that Kiddie an' you was away on a canoe trip. Broken Feather knew it, too. I'd a suspicion, an' more'n a suspicion, that he'd made up his mind ter break in here an' carry off some of Kiddie's valu'bles.
In his moments of deepest despair, however, he always discovered some obvious sign which he had previously overlooked, and at last he perceived that he had been led round in an exact triangle, for through the green meshes of the trees he caught a glimpse of the lake and a thin blue column of fire-smoke, and then in the surrounding silence he heard Kiddie's well-known voice singing a snatch of a Scots ballad
"Drive the horses back there, to the shelter of the ravine, where the stream comes down. Give them a drink. They'll be glad of it. And stop there with them. I'll give you a sign when I want you to bring them along." It seemed to Rube then that Kiddie wanted to get him out of the way, and he wondered at Kiddie's reasons for keeping him from participating in the battle.
Young though he was, and he was only fourteen, Rube considered himself quite capable of handling a gun and looking after himself. And he wasn't a coward. Why could he not be allowed even to look on from a safe shelter? Kiddie's reasons, nevertheless, were good.
Kiddie's name was prominent in the records, his reputation as an Express rider was not forgotten, and his request was readily granted. "You'll start on Jim's western section five o'clock in the mornin'," the agent intimated. "Thar's a dispatch a very important Gov'ment dispatch comin' along.
"It's exactly right," Abe assured him. "An' Kiddie's four minutes behind time. 'Tain't like Kiddie t' be late. Dessay his relay wasn't ready at Three Crossings. Keep yer ears open. Wind's comin' this way. We ought t' ha' heard him long ago." Abe was at first merely interested in the fact of Kiddie being slightly behind schedule time.
Might ha' bin worse heaps worse." "Lie down flat, Rube! Lie down flat!" It was Kiddie's voice. Rube instinctively obeyed the command, without even looking round to see where the voice had come from. But as he prostrated himself, he glanced forward and saw quite near to him a young Sioux chief mounted on a fine black horse, and wearing a magnificent feathered war-bonnet. It was Broken Feather.
"Say, if you c'n rip open that boot and disentangle my sprained foot from that rotten saddle, I shall be obliged. Then I reckon I c'n lie here while you ride along the trail with your mails and send help, see?" Alf Kearney demurred to the suggestion, but at once proceeded to liberate Kiddie's foot, first cutting the stirrup-strap and then ripping open the stout leather boot.
All these he spread with great ceremony at Kiddie's feet, evidently expecting him to wear them when next he should appear in public. Kiddie bowed to them as the counsellors filed slowly out of the lodge. When they had closed the door-flap behind them he turned round to Rube Carter. "Feelin' better now, Rube?" he asked. "I'll dress that cut on your cheek again, 'fore you go to sleep.
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