There was no movement about the camp and the fire was dead. It was
plain Indian Jake had not returned for the evening. Eli crouched and
waited, as a cat crouches and waits patiently for its prey.

Presently there was the sound of a breaking twig and a moment later
Indian Jake, with his rifle on his arm, appeared out of the forest.

Eli, his rifle levelled at Indian Jake, rose to his feet with the
command:

"You stand where you is; drop your gun!"

"Why, how do, Eli? What's up?" Indian Jake greeted. "What's bringin'
you to the Nascaupee?"

"You!" Eli's face was hard with hate. "'Tis you brings me here, you
thief! I wants the silver you takes when you shoots father, and 'tis
well for you Doctor Joe comes and saves he from dyin' or I'd been
droppin' a bullet in your heart with nary a warnin'!"

"What you meanin' by that?"

"Be you givin' up the silver?"

"No!"

[Illustration: "YOU STAND WHERE YOU IS AND DROP YOUR GUN"]

"I say again, give me that silver fox you stole from father!"