“And this,” continued the conductor kindly, as he paused beside the boy, “is Chief Sleeping Thunder’s son, North Eagle.”

Norton Allan stepped eagerly forward, raised his cap, and holding out his hand shyly, said, “May I have the pleasure of shaking hands with you, North Eagle?”

The Indian boy extended his own slim brown fingers, a quick smile swept across his face, and he said, “You not speak loud.”  Then they all laughed together, and the Professor, who had been a silent but absorbed onlooker, was soon chatting away with the two boys, as if he, too, were but sixteen years old, with all the world before him.

That was a memorable day for Norton, for, of course, he met Chief Sleeping Thunder, who, however, could speak but little English; but so well did the friendship progress that at noon North Eagle approached the Professor with the request that Norton should ride with him over to his father’s range, sleep in their tepee that night, and return the following morning before the train pulled out.

At North Eagle’s shoulder stood Sleeping Thunder, nodding assent to all his son said.

Of course, Mrs. Allan was for politely refusing the invitation.  She would not for a moment listen to such an idea.  But the Professor took quite the opposite stand.  “We must let him go, mother—­let him go, by all means.  Tony can take care of himself, and it will be the chance of his life.  Why he is nearing manhood now.  Let him face the world; let him have this wonderful experience.”

“But they look so wild!” pleaded the poor mother.  “They are wild.  Fancy letting our Tony go alone into the heart of the Blackfoot country!  Oh!  I can’t think of it!”

Fortunately for her peace of mind the train conductor overheard her words, and, smiling at her fears, said, rather dryly: 

“Madam, if your boy is as safe from danger and harm and evil in the city of Toronto as he will be with North Eagle in the prairie country, why, I congratulate you.”

The words seemed to sting the good lady.  She felt, rather than knew, the truth of them, and the next moment her consent was given.

The face of North Eagle seemed transformed when he got her promise to let Tony go.  “I bring him back safe, plenty time for train,” was all he said.

Then Sleeping Thunder spoke for the first time—­spoke but the one word, “Safe.”  Then pointing across the prairie, he repeated, “Safe.”

“That’s enough, my dear,” said the Professor firmly.  “Tony is as safe as in a church.”

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Allan, “the chief means that word ‘safe.’  And as for that boy, I believe he would die before he’d let Tony’s little finger be harmed.”

And as events proved, she was almost right.

Within the hour they were off, North Eagle bareback on a wiry cayuse, Tony in a Mexican saddle, astride a beautiful little broncho that loped like a rocking-horse.