"As mild as an old lady's cup of tea. Wouldn't hurt a fly. Sit down, and
I'll tell you all about them," said Frank.

"First, I want to know are you hurt much? I happened on where you fell,
and just imagine my alarm when I saw the print of little moccasins. Why,
I was sure some frisky red had knocked you over the head with a warclub,
and then toted you off to be burned at the stake. I followed as well as
I could, bent on rescuing you at the peril of my life, to meet up with a
reception like this."

Frank was compelled to laugh at the look of evident disgust that came
over the countenance of his comrade.

But when Jerry had heard all his chum knew concerning the little band
of wandering Crees, his generous heart was stirred at the thought of
their wrongs.

"That greedy half-breed ought to be made to walk the plank, that's what!
Just to think of the nerve of him chasing the genuine dyed-in-the-wool
chief out into the cold and taking his place! Why, he's a usurper,
that's the truth! And look here, Frank, didn't you hear what Mr. Mabie
said about a fellow named Pierre La Motte?"

"I must have been away at the time. What did he say?" asked Frank
eagerly.

"Why, there was a detachment of the sheriff's posse at the ranch house
just before we came, looking for that same fellow. Seems that he's
wanted badly for something or other."