Though they offered him a horse, Tom Moosenose politely declined to accompany the policemen on their ride south. He had no wish, it appeared, to seem to be bringing the police down on the white man’s outfit. Instead, the old Indian prepared to sit down in the settlement until they should come back with the news. Time meant nothing to him.
When Brinklow and McNab mounted and rode away, Wully Wallace the dog accompanied them as a matter of course. Once he found the white men, he paid no further attention to the Indian. For reasons of his own he had adopted young McNab for his new master.
“Him white man’s dog,” said Tom Moosenose philosophically. “No lak’ red man’s smell.”
Wully ran ahead of the horses, leaping and barking as a dog will, but with nothing of a dog’s usual delight upon start
