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It was Miguel Philipe, who during the excitement had been left lying bound in the bushes where the Indian had dumped him. When he was brought under the light of the porch, he was a sorry looking specimen. He had been unable to defend himself from the insects and his face was puffed and mottled and his eyes almost closed., “You said something, my boy. The only trouble is I can’t keep him around. He’s been with me a dozen times but he always goes away again. Sometimes he ups and leaves overnight and then I’m out a foreman. But he knows he can always come back. When he is here he makes things hum. Besides, he’s the only man who can make the Chink cook a good meal.” Then he turned to Bob. “Soon’s we’ve had something to eat I’ll have one of the boys show you around the place. You must be hungry after your ride, ’specially if you’re not used to riding.”, Probably Feather-in-the-Wind did not understand the slang but he got what Bob meant, for he said, “Come!” and started off in the direction of the lower camp. He did not go through the village but cut up on the hillside, walking swiftly as if he knew where he was bound. Bob followed..