"
Rolf was startled. Quonab and Skookum were not.
"We settled your partners up in the hills," said the former,
knowing that one bluff was as good as another. Skookum growled
and sniffed at the enemy's legs. The prisoner made a quick move
with his foot.
"You kick that dog again and it's your last kick," said the Indian.
"Who's kicked yer dog, and what do you mean coming here with yer
cutthroat ways? You'll find there's law in this country before
yer through," was the answer.
"That's what we're looking for, you trap robber, you thief.
We're here first to find our traps; second to tell you this: the
next time you come on our line there'll be meat for the ravens.
Do you suppose I don't know them? and the Indian pointed to a
large pair of snowshoes with long heels and a repair lashing on
the right frame. "See that blue yarn," and the Indian matched it
with a blue sash hanging to a peg.
"Yes, them belongs to Bill Hawkins; he'll be 'round in five
minutes now."
The Indian made a gesture of scorn; then turning to Rolf said:
"look 'round for our traps." Rolf made a thorough search in and
about the shanty and the adjoining shed.
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