The mentioning of a cave in the mountains made Pawnee Brown curious. Did Yellow Elk have such a hiding place? Where was it located, and was the Indian chief its only user?
"Perhaps some more of these reds have broken loose," he thought. "I would like to investigate. Who knows but what the cavalrymen are after them and not the boomers, as Dan Gilbert imagined."
A brief consideration of the subject and his mind was made up. So long as the Indian did not offer positive harm to Nellie Winthrop he would not expose himself, but follow on behind, in hope of locating the cave and learning more of Yellow Elk's intended movements.
"Let me go, I say!" cried Nellie, but the Indian chief merely shook his head.
"White girl be no fool. Indian friend; no hurt one hair of her head. Soon we be in camp and she will see what a friend Yellow Elk has been."
At this Nellie shook her head. That painted and dirty face was far too repulsive to be trusted. But there was no help for it; the Indian held her as in a vise, and she was forced to submit.
Moving along the trail, Indian and horse passed within a dozen feet of where Pawnee Brown sat, still as silent as a block of marble. It was a trying moment.
