Kiddie the Scout   By: Robert Leighton (1859-1934)

[Illustration: Cover art]

[Frontispiece: "That's the way of it," he said.]

KIDDIE THE SCOUT

by

ROBERT LEIGHTON

Author of

"Kiddie of the Camp," "Gildersley's Tenderfoot," "Cooee," "Rattlesnake Ranch," etc.

Illustrated by Frank R. Grey

London C. Arthur Pearson, Ltd. 18 Henrietta Street, W.C. 2 1920

TO

BERNARD EVERETT, Esq.

My dear Everett, It was you who suggested this continuation of the story of Kiddie, and it is my pleasure to inscribe the volume with your name.

R. L.

CONTENTS

CHAP.

I THE MYSTERIOUS SNIPER II THE UNIFORM OF THE PLAINS III A DANGEROUS ENEMY IV BROKEN FEATHER'S WAY V BLAZING THE TRAIL VI JIM THURSTON'S SUBSTITUTE VII RUBE CARTER'S VISITOR VIII KIDDIE'S LUCK IX KIDDIE'S "SELFISHNESS" X THE GUARDIAN OF THE HONEYCOMB XI LESSONS IN TRACKING XII A MOONLIGHT VISITOR XIII A MATTER OF BUSINESS XIV LONE WOLF CAÑON XV THE CRY OF THE JAY XVI THE SIGN OF THE BROKEN FEATHER XVII THE RUSE OF THE BUFFALO TRAIL XVIII THE BATTLE OF POISON SPIDER CREEK XIX KIDDIE'S ANSWER XX FOUL PLAY XXI THE CLUE OF YELLOW WORSTED XXII RUBE CARTER'S THEORY AND KIDDIE'S XXIII EVIDENCE FOR THE PROSECUTION

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"THAT'S THE WAY OF IT," HE SAID . . . . . . Frontispiece

KIDDIE SAW THE MUSTANG REAR ON ITS HIND LEGS

RUBE TURNED SHARPLY ROUND AND LOOKED UP AT THE INTRUDER

"FRIZZLE ME IF IT AIN'T KIDDIE OF THE CAMP!" CRIED KEARNEY

"I'VE GOT HIM, SURE; HE AIN'T GOIN' TER WRIGGLE AWAY"

KIDDIE REACHED FOR THE SQUARE OF PAPER

"LOOKS TO ME LIKE SHERIFF BLAGG," SAID KIDDIE

HE SPOKE TO THE CROWS IN THEIR OWN TONGUE

CHAPTER I

THE MYSTERIOUS SNIPER

"A pity Kiddie ain't here along of us, to help. He'd sure tell us if thar's Injuns prowlin' around. My old eyes ain't just what they used ter be for spottin' a crawlin' Redskin from afar. Now, Kiddie had eyes like spy glasses, hadn't he, Isa? As for his sense of hearin' well, I allow he c'd 'most hear the grass a growin'."

Old Man Birkenshaw was peering searchingly through the dim light of the early dawn, expecting at any moment to see the feathered head of a stealthy Indian warrior moving among the deep shadows. From where he lay on the dewy grass beside the crowded horse corral, with his repeating rifle across his arm, he searched into the darkness of the larch woods and down the misty slopes to the thick line of bushes bordering the hidden creek.

"Yes," he went on, speaking in a cautious undertone, "Kiddie was a marvel."

"That's so," agreed the man stationed next to him, "a marvel for scoutin', he was. Like a cat, too."

"A cat?"

"Yes," Isa Blagg nodded, "allus fell on his feet, didn't he? He allus came out on top. I never knew such a one fer turnin' up right on the spot whenever there was danger hangin' around."

"Wonder where he is now?" sighed Gideon Birkenshaw.

"Why, away in England, of course," drawled Isa. "In England without a doubt, occupyin' that thar comfortable seat of his in the House of Lords, wearin' a gold coronet an' a gold watch an' chain, an' a robe trimmed round with ermine skins; livin' in the grand style with all them high an' mighty aristocratic friends of his; never givin' a thought ter this yer camp here in the wilds of Wyoming, or to Laramie Peak, or to you, or to me."

"Mebbe so mebbe so," mused Gideon. "I allow it's a long, long while since I'd a letter from him not since that time when he sent me the Arab mare. Seems as if he'd clean forgotten me, though I never reckoned as Kiddie would ever forget. He ain't that sort."

"Hullo!" Isa Blagg was suddenly alert. "What's that? Listen! D'ye hear it, Gid a horse gallopin' along the trail comin' this way? Listen!"

The two men lay perfectly still and silent. From afar they could hear the unmistakable sound of a horse's hoofs, becoming momentarily more distinct.