“By the last hoptoad that was chased out of Ireland!” he ejaculated. “That redskin sure had a close shave, Chet! What d’you know about it, old man? Whew!” Chet gave his hand to John Peep and helped him up to their level. The Indian youth was breathless; but his countenance displayed no fear. He gazed down the gulch after the roaring landslide, and shook his head. “Much danger in that,” he grunted. “You bet your life!” exclaimed the slangy Digby. “You were never nearer the Happy Hunting Grounds in your life.” John Peep turned sharply on Digby. “You think it is funny to talk that way to me because I am an Indian,” he said. “I do not believe in any Happy Hunting Grounds any more than you white boys believe you go to a Big Candy-Shop when you die. That is silly.” “Oh! Ugh!” gasped Dig, surprised. “All right. Needn’t get mad over it, old man.” With a gravity that seemed quite beyond his years, John Peep turned to Chet. He had not changed colour in the least, nor was he disturbed by his perilous adventure in any way. There were not many Indians about Silver Run; and those who were there were, as a rule, miserable creatures. Even this youth’s own family were hopeless, lazy and dirty in the extreme, prone to the use of “white man’s firewater” when they could get it. But John Peep was more like what an Indian should be—or so Chet Havens thought. He was odd; but the white boy liked him, and when John put out his hand Chet accepted it and shook it warmly. “You saved me. I will not forget. Thanks!” said the Indian lad. “Don’t say anything more about it,” Chet said quickly. “You’d have done as much for me.” John Peep looked at him curiously for a moment. Digby, getting impatient, blurted out: “Well! are we going to stay here all day? We might as well get back to the Silent Sue.” “You knew the shaft up there was caved in,” Chet said to the Indian. “How did it happen? I wanted dreadfully to go down. I believe we could reach my father and the other men entombed in the Silent Sue through the old tunnel from the Crayton shaft.” “Can’t they be dug out through your shaft?” asked the Indian. “I’m afraid it will take a week,” said Chet huskily. “Oh, come on, Chet!” exclaimed Dig sympathetically. “Maybe some other way will turn up.” “White boy know any other way?” queried John Peep quickly. “No; of course he doesn’t,” cried Chet. “We’re at our wits’ end. There is an awful mass of stuff fallen into the Silent Sue shaft. As much as has fallen into this old shaft up yonder,” and he pointed up the hill. The Indian lad seemed to hesitate; but finally he turned and spoke directly to Chet again. “You come. Tie horses there,” pointing to the woods. “I show you something. Be quick.” He started off abruptly, going toward the forest. Of course, he could not travel very fast because of his lameness. Chet and Dig looked at each other in both surprise and doubt. “What does he mean, d’you s’pose?” whispered Dig.