"Mother, have you seen or heard anything of Tommy?" He need not have asked the question, for at this juncture a straight, boyish figure bounded through the front doorway, cleared the steps in one jump and sprang into Al's arms. "What, Tommy?" cried Al, in amazed delight. "Can it possibly be you, so big and strong? I would not have known you. How and when did you get here?" "They sent me down on another boat after the _North Wind_ burned," Tommy answered. "But how did you know to stop in St. Louis?" asked Al. "Why, I hunted up Uncle Will, of course, to have him help me get to Minnesota, and then I was so glad to find that mama and Annie were here," Tommy replied. "What a hunt you have had for me, dear old brother!" "Yes, but now we are together again, so everything has come out for the best, even though I didn't find you myself. Mother, where is Annie?" "She is in school," answered Mrs. Briscoe. "But she will be home at three o 'clock. Tommy should be there, too, but he will not start until next Monday. He is far back in studies for his age." "But he must have learned many things in the last two years which he never could have learned in school," said Wallace, who had been warmly and affectionately greeted by Mrs. Briscoe. "Yes, I did," admitted Tommy. "It was a great life up there among the Indians, and Te-o-kun-ko was always very good to me, and so were his squaw and the children. I think a lot of them all." "We were a little afraid you might grow to think so much of them and of their life that you would not want to come back to us," said Al. Tommy glanced at him reproachfully. "Why, Al," he exclaimed, "how could you think I would ever care as much for any one as for mama and you and Annie and--" a shadow crossed his face, "papa," he added. Al, judging that his young brother did not yet realize any connection of Te-o-kun-ko with Mr. Briscoe's death, and deciding not to explain it until some later time, answered, "We couldn't be sure, Tommy, for you know such things have happened." "I was always sure," remarked Mrs. Briscoe, calmly, and, indeed, there was no question that her mother's instinct had been correct, as it almost always is. "Well," said Wallace, "with all the knowledge of the Indians and their ways you have gained, you ought to make a capital scout." Tommy looked at him thoughtfully. "Perhaps I will--some day," he replied. "But first I want to learn the things that other fellows know, because I don't believe that without them, it is much use just to be able to ride and shoot and track game and so on." "Now, Al," Mrs. Briscoe interrupted, turning toward the door, "we all, your aunt and uncle, too, will be eager to know what has happened to you in the last six months, especially since you started west from Fort Rice. The last letter I had from you was the one you sent from there, on the eighteenth of July."