"
"Wait till Tad comes up. I think he will accommodate you," suggested
Chunky wisely.
"You mustn't mind our talk, Professor," explained Walter. "We say
things to each other, but it's all in fun. We don't mean to be mean.
Do we, Ned?"
"Of course not. Chunky is the only one who--"
"Never mind Chunky. He'll take care of himself," answered the fat boy
sharply.
"Isn't it about time that lazy Indian were back, Professor?" asked
Walter.
"Yes, that's so. I hadn't thought of that, Walter. He has been gone
all of five hours now, and the trip should not have taken him more
than three all told."
"Suppose he had to stop to smoke a pipe of peace with his friend,"
suggested Ned. "Then there would be a certain amount of grunting to
do before Eagle-eye could state his business, and after that much
talk, talk. That's the Indian of it."
"You seem to know a lot about Indians. Were you ever an Indian?"
asked Stacy innocently.
"Even if I were, I couldn't be called a savage," retorted Ned.
The hours wore on, and the moon came up in a cloudless sky, much to
the relief of the boy down in the canyon. Just before dark he had
observed that there was quite a strip of rock and sand on his side of
the rushing mountain torrent. It extended further than he could see
and the lad wondered where it might lead to.
After a time he cuddled up, but could not sleep.
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