Kiddie the Scout by Robert Leighton

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KIDDIE THE SCOUT

[Illustration: Cover art]

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

KIDDIE THE SCOUT

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 CANYON 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."

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