Little Cayuse had no difficulty in keeping the rascally Price in sight, and when the latter entered a lonely cabin on the outskirts of the town the Piute was not far away. He saw from safe concealment another man come out and peer intently about, as if fearing eavesdroppers, and then pass around the cabin to discover if any person might be hiding in the shadows near by. Then, before the fellow had barely closed the door, the silent moccasins of Little Cayuse had covered the distance to the hut, and their owner was searching the walls for crack or crevice by which he could see and hear what was going on within. The search was unrewarded, and Cayuse sought other means. Near the hut was an overgrown, much-tangled willow, which reached out as if to embrace this little habitation of man. Cayuse allowed an “Ugh!” of satisfaction to escape him as he swung into the tree with the agility of a monkey. Out on the largest branch which overhung the roof of the shanty, the Indian youth crept, and was soon perched alongside a hole at the back of the wide stone chimney. From this position he could look into the single room below through the big fireplace in which no fire had been lighted. By leaning far forward with his head in the chimney, he could hear distinctly the words of the men. There were four besides Price in the cabin, and at times each passed near enough to the chimney flue so that Cayuse obtained a good view of their features. The five men finally sat around a rough table and got down to business. Price was the first to broach the all-important subject. “Well, Sawyer; what’s the word from Washington? You say you were ordered here in haste.” “I am going all along the line to Oregon to put the boys on their guard and to tell them what we have learned of conditions in the Indian reservations.” “Don’t you suppose we know conditions on the reservations as well as you do in Washington?” asked Price. “Not if you give your time to gambling and drinking poor rum,” Sawyer answered. “Who’re you shooting at? I don’t do either one to any extent that hurts.” “I didn’t say you did, but somebody is doing it, and is not contented with a fair thing, but is robbing the Indians so barefacedly that there is going to be an uprising. Then, too, things are being carried on so boldly and openly that the government is getting wise to the ‘ring,’ and there is no telling when the axe will fall in high places in Washington.” “You’re always whining at Washington about its fellows out here. We do the dirty work and take all the kicks, and you fellows gobble all the proceeds.”