Both of the others of course heard all that Donald said. Adrian only smiled, and nodded his head, as though the idea rather took his fancy; but Billie put up his broad shoulders in a way he often did when in sore doubt.
If his two chums made up their minds to try and invade the secret quarters of that hideous old medicine man, in the heart of the Sacred Mountain, why, Billie realized that he would have to accompany them. This would not be because they insisted on it, but on account of his never being of a mind to find himself left out, when an enterprise was planned, as though he might not be equal to the strain, for Billie was very touchy, and proud, for a good-natured boy.
This being the case he shuddered to imagine himself dangling at the end of a rope, far down the face of that sheer hundred and more foot cliff, with a drop beneath, in case the rope slipped, or broke, sufficient to insure a smash that was going to end his pilgrimage in this world.
But then Billie had learned that it was folly to cross a bridge before one came to it. While his comrades might lay great plans, there was always a chance that something would happen, making it impossible to try and carry the same out.
What was the use in borrowing trouble, anyway? To-morrow had not come, and wasn’t his good mother always telling him that old maxim “sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof?”
So Billie concluded he would live in the present, and let the future take care of itself.
They were heading for the queer Zuni village right now, and before long he expected to get busy with his camera, taking all sorts of entertaining snapshots that later on must astonish and delight hosts of friends in the faraway East, after he returned home.
That they were now drawing very close to the Zuni settlement all of them knew to a certainty. Plenty of signs pointed that way—they could hear loud voices, and the laughter of children, just as though they might be approaching a village of white people; for after all, children do not differ very much, whether they be white, black, copper-colored or yellow; it is only when they grow older and copy the characteristics of their parents that they change, and follow the groove of their species.
“I can see the cliff, all right!” announced Billie, in some little excitement, as he stretched his fat neck to a dangerous degree, “rubbering,” as he himself described it.
“Yes,” said Adrian, “that’s the top row of homes we see yonder; and if things are anything like I expect, from what I’ve heard we’ll find a dozen other rows of holes in the rock most all the way down the cliff.”
“But not near the bottom,” corrected Donald; “because, you see, the only object that ever made these people, away back many hundreds of years ago, build their homes in this way was to feel free from their enemies, whoever they might be; and so far as I’ve been able to find out, nobody really knows who they were afraid of.”
“P’raps the Injuns got on the warpath every little while; and made a raid, looking for scalps and plunder?” suggested Billie, quickly.
“You might think so,” Adrian told him; “but it’s been agreed on that when these same old cliff-dwellers held out in these valleys, making their homes high up in the air, and digging them out of the solid rock in certain places where it was easy to do the job, why, there were no Indians. That was long before the time of the red man, as we know him in history. So there you are, Billie.”
“All of which is true,” added Donald; “so think it over, Billie, and some time let us know what sort of an explanation you get to. Look, there are several more lines of holes in the rock, and you can see the many crazy ladders that lead up and down, like the lines of a puzzle.”
“Sure thing,” declared Billie, excitedly, “and there are some people climbing and coming down right along. Hurry up there, Jupiter, and quit your poking. I’m all of a quiver to get right in, and see these sights at close range. Oh! mebbe it ain’t going to be in clover for me, with this jolly little kodak of mine. Won’t I be able to snap off some of the funniest pictures you ever saw, with fat squaws and papooses ahanging to them ladders in all sorts of ridiculous positions? Well, let me tell you before we go any further, boys, I’m real glad I came.”
“In spite of the scare you had when you fell into that rattlesnake den, eh, Billie?” ventured Adrian.
“And no matter if you did get lost on the desert, while a nasty sand storm was raging?” added Donald, mischievously.
“With the wolves keeping you awake all night in the bargain; can you say that, remembering all these things that have happened, Billie?” Adrian concluded.
The fat boy placed one hand in the region of his heart.
“Really and truly I’m glad right now,” he went on, “and I’ll be a dozen times more so before long, I’m thinking. All the things you mention belong to past history; and what’s the use crying over spilt milk?”
“Hurrah for you, Billie!” cried Adrian.
“Remember what we used to write in our copybooks at school when we were kids,” the fat boy went on, seriously; “mebbe I ain’t got the words just right, but the sentiment is the same: ‘The wheel of the mill ain’t ever agoing to run again, with the water that is past.’ Them’s my sentiments every time, boys.”
“Bully for Willie Winkle!” laughed Donald; “he’s better to have along than any school teacher that ever lived. But here we are, boys; and now look your fill, both of you, because you’ll see sights such as few people ever get a chance to set eyes on, let me tell you.”
And they did.
They had now turned a bend in the trail, so that the whole Zuni village was before them. It was a bustling scene, too, for there were scores of persons moving all about on the ground, among the rocks, and in the central plaza, where doubtless the ceremonial dances were wont to take place from time to time, according to the customs of these strange people.
The Zunis are very clannish, and never marry outside of their own people. They believe themselves to be far and above the common herd, and can look back to a past that antedates the history of all other tribes. Some of those wise men who have tried to study out their traditions associate them with the Aztecs or sun worshippers of Mexico; but they claim to go back centuries beyond the time of those really modern people.
Their dress is as picturesque as their mode of living, so vastly different from that of any Indian tribe in America. They are accustomed to meeting whites, and in reality shrewdly welcome strangers to visit their village, because they love to shine in the lime-light; and most of them are natural-born actors. Besides, they make a great deal of money in various ways, such as posing for pictures, selling quaintly woven baskets, pottery made after their tribal custom, and all sorts of souvenirs such as tourists with fat pocketbooks love to pick up, to prove that they have journeyed to the land of the “original people,” known as the Zunis.
“Why, we ain’t the only strangers here, after all!” ejaculated Billie, shortly, as he and his two chums came closer to the scene. “There’s a bunch of palefaces over yonder atalking to that old squaw, who looks like she might be a gypsy queen, or some sort of fortune-teller.”
“Perhaps she is,” laughed Adrian, “because these people have gotten so used to having the whites visit them, especially at this time of year, that they’re on to all sorts of schemes to coax the nimble dollar out of the pockets of the pilgrims. Am I right there, Pard Donald?”
“You’re cleaving close to the line, let me tell you, Chum Adrian; and you’ll find that money talks even among the Zuni and the Hopi Indians, just as it does, they say, over in Switzerland or Italy, where every blessed person, young and old, has the itching palm as they call it, so you can’t ask a civil question without fishing around in your pocket for a tip. But let’s forget all that, now, and mingle with the crowd.”
“First of all,” suggested Adrian, wisely, “don’t you think we’d better be making a camp for ourselves? The ponies will have to have water and grass; and as we’ve got a tent, it ought to be stuck up somewhere to show where the Broncho Rider Boys have their headquarters.”
“Right you are, Ad; and here comes the very party we had ought to speak to, unless I’m mistaken. Now, it happened that Corse Tibbals was able to do these people a mighty good turn, once upon a time; and he told me if I mentioned the fact that I was a friend of his, it might make things pleasant for us; which I expect to spring on this old fellow who’s got our number, and means to find out who we are, and what we want here.”
The man who approached them was evidently one of more or less authority among the Zunis; for his manner, as well as a difference in his style of dress, told that he must exercise the authority of a chief.
Billie had been wondering what sort of Choctaw or Greek he was about to hear the Zuni use in addressing them, and how Donald could understand him. Billie, having once taken a few lessons in the sign language, had even been trying to brush up his memory, under the faint impression that he might have to join in the conversation, and assist his chums, when he heard the other ask in very good English who they were, and why they had journeyed hither.
Of course it was only a sort of ceremonious way of introducing himself, because all the palefaces who came to the Zuni country had only one object in view, which could be set down as an overwhelming curiosity to see for themselves these wonderful things of which they had heard or read so much.
Donald gave the name of each of his chums, as well as his own. He told how they had been down to the copper mines on business; and finding that they would be in time to witness the famous rattlesnake dance, which once a year the Zunis indulge in, they had crossed the burning desert in a sand storm to visit their brothers.
And when he mentioned that Corse Tibbals was a very good friend of his, and really in the employ of his father, the sober face of the old Zuni actually lighted up with what seemed to be pleasure.
He and Donald chatted for some little time in an animated way, after which the old chief took himself off, and the boy returned to his friends, a satisfied look on his face, that told them things were “panning out” well.
“It’s all right, fellows,” said Donald, as he joined his chums; “the chief remembers our foreman at the mine, and is glad to have us here. Fact is, he gave me to understand that he’d look on us as his special guests during the ceremonies connected with the yearly dance to the Little Father, as they call the rattlesnake, under the impression that it was connected with the religion of their forefathers, away back thousands of years.”
“Huh!” grunted the unbelieving Billie, “take my word for it now, that’s the same kind of talk he gives every new batch of strangers that shows up here. You see, I’m something of a reader of character, though I’ve never let on to you two fellows about it before; and if ever I saw a shrewd look on the face of a human being it was written large on his phiz.”
Adrian chuckled.
Possibly that was his own private opinion, for he believed that the annual gathering of numerous whites, deeply interested in the religious ceremonies, and dance of the Zunis, had by degrees come to make it somewhat of a commercial affair. They found so many chances to “bleed” the good-natured travelers that the spirit was now rife in the community, just as you find it in every gypsy camp.
After that they wandered around for quite some time, “visiting,” Billie called it. They talked with the natives, finding that the vast majority could not only understand English, but speak it fairly well in the bargain.
Donald led his comrades up a crazy ladder to the lower strata of rock houses, as the holes in the face of the high cliff were called.
They found that they were singularly lacking in what white boys were accustomed to look upon as actual necessities in their homes. The sleeping places, instead of being comfortable beds, consisted for the most part of some skins thrown down in a corner.
“But then,” ruminated Billie, who was given to speculating on occasion, “I reckon now that an up-to-date brass bed would kinder look queer and out of place in this antique hole in the wall. The beds and other furniture are about in keeping with the people and the habitation, ain’t that so Adrian?”
“Well,” observed the one addressed, “what else would you expect to find in a living place that had been used for hundreds and hundreds of years by these people, and those who went before them? But you admit that it’s all mighty interesting, don’t you, Billie?”
“That’s what it is, Adrian,” heartily replied the other, “and from the way these other visitors are prowling around every-which-way, seems to me they think just the same as we do. Several look like cowboys; you don’t happen to know any of the same, I suppose, Donald?”
“No,” Donald answered, after taking a good survey of the parties in question; “never ran across them before; but that isn’t queer, when you come to think how many ranches there are in this Southwest country; and how seldom punchers go outside of the limits of their own range.”
“Then there’s a bunch of real tourists,” continued Billie; “father, mother and two half-grown children, people of means, they must be, for they look like it; and they’ve got three guides along with ’em too, so’s not to get lost on the desert, like some sillies have a habit of doing. Chances are these Zunis will get considerable graft from that free-and-easy crowd.”
“Among the balance of the strangers in town there’s one man I’ve been watching, and he somehow gives me a bad feeling,” remarked Adrian.
“P’raps, now, I might pick him out, and then not half try,” added Donald; “just because I felt the same way about him. See here, Ad, is he that tall, domineering man, with the inky-black mustache, who looks about like the frisky gambler you see in the moving pictures of this Western country?”
“Hit it the first guess, Donald; but I took the trouble to ask a few questions about him from that smart looking young brave you saw me talking with a bit ago; and it seems that his name is Mark Braddon; and he’s some sort of showman.”
“Oh! you mean a circus proprietor, out here in the Wild and Woolly West to pick up novel attractions for his outfit in the East, is that it?” demanded Donald, quickly.
“That’s what he claims; and the youngster told me Braddon was trying to induce the chief to take a big party of braves, squaws and papooses, and go with him to exhibit this same rattlesnake dance in his circus. Says it would be the biggest card ever put before the public, and insure him crowded houses all through the winter in Chicago.”
Donald looked grave.
“I don’t like his ways, that’s all I can say,” he remarked, still watching the important looking man in question, who was not far away at the time, showing the family of tourists the largest cliff dwelling, with an air of proprietorship; as though he already felt that he had acquired an interest in the whole village by reason of the fact that he was daily and hourly increasing his offer of big pay, until the chief must give in, and accept a contract.
“And from what you told me about these people,” Adrian went on to say, gravely, “it seems to me they never could give that strange dance day after day, and have it still hold its solemn, religious character.”
“Never!” declared Donald, who knew so much about these Indians of the rock dwellings; “it can be danced only once a year, at a most particular season. Everything has to be just so, the moon at a certain age, and all sorts of other conditions are to be suitable, or it loses its significance. But then money is a strong factor nowadays, and if that tempter only made his offer big enough, he might get the old chief to consent.”
“That would be bad enough in itself,” remarked Adrian; “but between you and me, Donald, I’ve got a big suspicion that this circus man is something of a fake.”
“You mean that he would have some other scheme up his sleeve, in trying to tempt the chief to start out with him, taking the best part of the tribe along, is that your idea, Adrian?” asked the other, earnestly; as he again cast his gaze toward the big man with the deep, loud voice, and blustering ways, whose manner had seemingly struck them both as peculiarly offensive.
Adrian simply nodded.
He saw Billie listening with open mouth, and eyes that were distended, as though the information regarding these suspicions on the part of his chums was thrilling him through and through; and Adrian did not think it wholly advisable to get the fat boy started in the question line, because he would never stop quizzing them.
As Donald caught his meaning, he gave him a wink and a nod, after which he dropped all mention of the dark-haired man with the loud voice, and the bold stare.
When they became tired of climbing ladders, and investigating the quaint homes of the Zuni people, the three chums went back to where they had erected their tent, and had their animals staked out so they could secure their fill of grass.
Billie, of course was hungry; it was very seldom he could be found any other way these days; and so they thought it might be wise to start a fire, and cook something in the line of food.
Some of the Zuni boys gathered around to watch their operations, but as Donald had said, these people were strictly honest, the chums had no fear of their tent being entered during their absence, and anything stolen.
While dinner was being prepared Adrian noticed that Billie was unusually quiet and thoughtful, for him. He wondered what ailed the stout chum. Once he thought that what he and Donald had said concerning the big man with the loud voice and overbearing ways had affected Billie; and he was busying his brain in trying to figure out what sort of game the circus man could be engaged in carrying out.
Desiring to ease his mind on this score, and let him feel that after all their suspicions might not amount to anything, as the other was possibly just what he claimed to be, the proprietor of a Wild West Show, on the keen lookout for new and taking novelties to offer the public, Adrian presently introduced the matter to his companion.
“What makes you so sober, Billie; not feeling sick, I hope?” he remarked, while Donald was doing something over where the horses were tethered, and the pair of them found themselves temporarily deserted by the Zuni youths.
“What, me?” exclaimed the other, starting, and looking quickly up at the speaker; “oh, not at all, Adrian; far from it, because I never felt in better shape, only I’ll be stronger after we’ve had our grub, of course.”
“But something’s worrying you, Billie!” persisted the other.
“Oh! well, I wouldn’t be happy, Ad, you know, unless I was badgerin’ this old think-box of mine over something or other,” answered the fat chum, with a nervous laugh.
“And what is it now?” asked Adrian, fully expecting to hear him say that he was unable to get the conversation he had heard between them concerning Mark Braddon, out of his mind, to his surprise it turned out to be a very different affair entirely.
“Why,” said Billie, soberly, with three lines across his broad forehead, such as always appeared there when he found himself up against a hard proposition, “you see, Adrian, I just can’t get it through my mind who he can be at all. Bothers me right along now, and the more I pound my head the worse it gets.”
“But suppose you decide that he’s just what he claims, and let it go at that,” suggested the other.
Billie’s lower jaw fell, and he turned to stare at the speaker.
“Say, now, who d’ye suppose I’m talking about?” he demanded.
“Why, that man Braddon, of course,” replied Adrian.
Then Billie laughed merrily.
“Why, bless your innocent heart, Ad,” he said, in his jolly way, “I wasn’t bothering my head the least bit about that gruff-voiced fellow. What’s been on my nerves is the mystery we’re up against.”
“Mystery!” echoed Adrian, in a puzzled way; and then, as a light suddenly broke in upon him he went on to say hastily; “oh! I see now what you mean, Billie; you’re still badgering your poor brain about the unknown who shot the thieving young Apache buck when he was trying to rob us; and who you think must be the same party who put that warning in the split stick at the poisoned spring?”
“That’s what, Adrian!” declared the other, with a big sigh; “and it’s keeping me awake nights wondering just who our unknown friend can be.”
It was some time after the Broncho Rider Boys had finished their dinner that Adrian, while wandering around the village, chanced to come upon the old chief again.
As the other beckoned to him, and started a conversation, Adrian found himself irresistibly impelled presently to tell the chief what he thought about such a scheme as the one he had heard the circus man propose.
Adrian was something of a good talker; indeed, he some day expected to study to be a lawyer on this very account. And as the chief seemed glad of a chance to get some other person’s opinion concerning the honesty of Braddon, and the likelihood of his keeping a contract to the letter, he asked many questions.
But of course Adrian was too wise a boy to state boldly that he believed the other to be a fakir, when he had no evidence along that line, save his own conviction backed by that of his chum, Donald; and they were supposed to be only a pair of boys, hardly capable of forming judgment on another.
He confined the line of his argument upon other grounds, and succeeded in making the old chief very uncomfortable by his questions concerning the religious nature of the famous snake dance, and whether it would not be next door to sacrilege to perform it daily, just to amuse thousands of careless white people, for the mere sake of gain.
In other words, Adrian was hinting that possibly the Great Spirit might take it as an insult to have this same ceremonial dance made a common byword among the palefaces, and visit some terrible judgment upon the heads of those who were concerned.
He even asked what the medicine man thought about the scheme, and was not surprised to learn that the Wizard Doctor violently opposed anything of the sort; and it was his opposition that had caused the arrangements to hang fire so far.
The chief seemed very friendly, and Adrian believed that he had succeeded in influencing him to go slow about making such a radical change, without in any way reflecting upon the honor of the circus proprietor.
As he turned away after this long and earnest talk with the old Zuni chief he felt impelled to look to one side, as though some influence forced him to turn his eyes that way. And just as he half expected, he discovered that Braddon had been intently observing him, possibly much of the time he and the old chief held their heart-to-heart talk.
There was a dark scowl on the strong face of the big man. He smiled in a queer way, as he saw Adrian looking toward him; and somehow the expression on his face seemed anything but agreeable.
The boy half expected that Braddon would stalk toward him, and demand to know what he and the old Zuni leader had been talking about so earnestly; he was bracing himself to decline to answer, when he saw the other whirl around, and hurry after the chief, evidently meaning to get that information at first hands.
“I reckon that might spell trouble for me,” mused Adrian, as he walked on; and having somewhat tired of observing the strange sights of the village by now, or perhaps feeling that the company of his chums would be more agreeable, he headed toward the tent where Billie lay taking a nap in the shade, and Donald was busily engaged writing up some incident in his daily log.
Half an hour afterwards who should turn up there but Mark Braddon. When Adrian saw the big, dark-faced circus man approaching, with a set look on his countenance, he knew that there was going to be an explosion.
And he was not far wrong, either.
Donald stopped his writing, and jumping to his feet, hurried to the side of his chum, recognizing the signs of a storm when he saw them.
“See here, youngsters,” said the man, in his big bass voice, while he tried to look as fierce as possible, under the impression that in this way he might send a spasm of fear and dismay to the hearts of the boys whom he addressed, “it’d be a mighty good thing for you to stop poking your noses into my business, and look after your own affairs. Get thet, don’t you? Well, unless you want to find yourselves hurt rather sudden, just keep hands off, and allow me to run my own circus.”
He even shook his finger threateningly at them; and somehow the action angered Donald, who was quicker to flare up than Adrian. Billie was sitting up by now, and listening, with widely distended eyes, and open mouth.
“Oh!” said Donald, “I reckon, now, you’re doing all that talking about my chum advising the old chief that his medicine man was right in saying they would risk the ill will of the Manitou of the Zunis, if they took their sacred dance away from the spot where it has been done year after year for centuries, and made it the laughing stock of a rude crowd of white people at a circus. Well, the chief asked his opinion, and he had a right to give it, as any other person might.”
“Yes,” added Adrian just then, “of course it doesn’t matter a red cent to any of us whether the chief takes up your offer or not; but I’ve got my opinion about whether he’d be a fool to try it, and so I told him. I don’t know you, Mr. Braddon, and I’m not saying that you wouldn’t deal honestly with these simple people; but I do know that they would never be the same again after they came back. That was what I asked him; and I’d do just the same again if any of the other Indians wanted to know my opinion.”
The big man looked at the speaker in surprise. He had doubtless counted on being easily able to cow these young fellows, who were only boys at best, while he had a fierce look, and in his own mind at least a resistless way of domineering.
“I give you fair warning right here and now,” he went on to say, furiously, “that unless you keep your hands off my personal business you’re going to think you’ve run up against a buzz-saw. I ain’t in the habit of knuckling down to a set of kids, when I plan a big thing for my show; and I won’t stand for it, hear that? Why, I’ve got a good notion to give you a lesson right here and now.”
He had assumed an attitude that looked dangerous, as though his passions had run away with his judgment; and Adrian was sorry that neither he nor Donald chanced to have anything along just at that critical moment in the way of firearms, with which to make things seem more even.
“Oh! I wouldn’t do that, mister, if I was you,” drawled a voice just then.
Of course it was Billie, and as all of them glanced toward the spot where he was squatted, they saw him handling his pet Marlin repeater.
Somehow the sight of that gun seemed to make the fierce showman change his mind. He shrugged his broad shoulders, and allowed a cynical smile to cross his face.
“Never mind raising that weapon, son,” he called out; “on second thought I guess I’d have been a fool to lay a hand on any of you. But just keep my warning in mind, and leave my plans for amusing the public alone, will you? I give you my word you’ll be sorry if you bother me any more.”
He wheeled, and hurried away. Billie chuckled a little, as though amused, and as the showman turned and shot a vindictive glance back toward him it was evident he must have heard the sound, and also that it rankled in his soul.
The three boys soon had their heads together, and of course this time the subject of their talk was the man who had made such a fool of himself as to threaten Adrian, because he had spoken his mind when the old chief asked his opinion.
“He’s a sure enough bad egg,” Billie affirmed, and neither of the others seemed inclined to differ with him on that score, at least.
“I saw him talking to two different men awhile back,” remarked Donald. “It was after you and the chief had been having that nice little confab, Adrian; and from the way he pointed over this way several times, I got the idea in my head he was telling them about what he’d seen you doing.”
“In that case then, you would know who two of his crowd might be?” suggested the other chum, quickly.
“That’s right, I do; and let me tell you both while I’m about it; because, if it seems we’re just bound to have a rumpus with Braddon and his set, the sooner we spot the whole outfit the better.”
“Go ahead then, Donald,” urged Adrian.
“First, there was that little sawed-off we were watching awhile back; he seems to be a lively specimen, even if he is so short; and I don’t fancy the cut of his jib any more’n I do that of Mr. Braddon, the showman.”
“Call him Shorty, then, since we don’t know his real name,” remarked Billie.
“The other was that young fellow who is dressed in the loud check suit, and who might be a son of the showman, for all anybody could say to the contrary. Seems to me they do look a bit alike, eh, Ad?”
“All right, let’s take that for granted, and call him Mark Braddon Jr.,” Billie went on to say, before Adrian could give his opinion; for it seemed as if the fat chum was feeling rather lively since he had surprised his comrades by his prompt holding up of the furious showman when he was threatening violence toward Adrian.
“Then we know three of the crowd,” Donald went on. “There may be others still, and we’d better keep our eyes open to pick the same out, from time to time.”
“You talk as if you thought we’d sure have trouble with the bunch yet,” remarked Adrian.
“Oh! you never can tell; but the signs all point that way right now,” Donald went on to say; “and you know, we’ve been brought up to keep on our guard all the time. They might take a silly notion to try and run us out of here.”
“Say, I hope not before that old dance comes off!” cried Billie, “because I’ve got my heart set on taking some fine snapshots of the same, and it’d grieve me a heap to have to toddle out of here before then.”
“Make your mind easy, Billie,” said Donald, with a firm closing of his jaws together, and a gleam in his eyes that proclaimed the spirit of the prairie boy, “we don’t leave this same village until we’re good and ready, no matter what Mr. Mark Braddon and his crowd think, or want us to do. And if it came to a fight, I’ve got an idea those several cowboys from the ranches would flock to our side, once I told ’em who I was, and that my dad owns the good old Keystone Ranch.”
Adrian looked up at that, with a smile on his face.
“Now that isn’t half a bad idea, Donald,” he remarked, hastily; “and if I was you I’d just stroll out, and make the acquaintance of some of those same punchers. There are three of them, and they seem to be a jolly lot. Not much danger that they’re in touch with Braddon in his game, whatever it may be.”
“I’ll do it, right away,” announced Donald, as he went into the tent to strap on his belt with its dangling six-shooter, without which no cowboy would care to be seen abroad; and waving his hand to his chums, he sauntered off on his mission.
Billie began to tire of lying around, and once more started out to investigate things for himself. He carried his little kodak along with him, for there were a couple of pictures he had thought of which he wanted very much to get, if the opportunity arose, and he could induce some of the Zuni boys, in their peculiar costumes, to pose for him, and he thought that would not be hard for a fellow whom his chums both said had such an insinuating, wheedling way about him.
He spent a good hour in the task, while Donald still remained absent; and Adrian put in his time in various ways, now with the horses, and again at the tent.
The one who had remained behind was somewhat surprised at seeing Billie hurrying toward the camp after a while, and to note the look of deep anxiety upon the rosy face of the fat chum.
“Hello! there, what’s been happening to you now, I wonder?” Adrian remarked, as Billie threw himself down on the ground beside him, seemingly short of breath, for he was panting heavily.
He made a gesture to indicate that after he had managed to get in half-way decent shape again, he would proceed to enlighten the stay-at-home chums; and so Adrian had to take it out for a minute or two in vague guessing.
“Chances are three to one that it’s got something to do with that same Braddon?” he proceeded to say, presently, when Billie failed to start explaining.
A violent nod of the other’s head announced that his first shot had hit the mark in the bull’s-eye.
“Don’t tell me he tackled you, and abused you in any way?” demanded Adrian, with a look of gathering anger on his face.
Billie shook his head, this time in the negative. Then he seemed to have reached the opinion that he had recovered enough of his breath to explain.
“No, it wasn’t that, you see; but what I managed to hear them say,” he exclaimed.
“Meaning Braddon and some of his bunch; is that it, Billie?”
“Yes, and the very pair Donald was warning us against, Shorty and Junior,” the fat boy went on to declare eagerly.
“So, they were having a nice little confab all by themselves, were they?” asked the other.
“Just what they were; and say, Ad, d’ye know the temptation was really too much for me, and I had to make the try, even if I did know what I’d rub up against if they discovered me listenin’ to ’em talk.”
“Do you mean to say you crept up close enough to hear anything?” demanded Adrian, as though he could hardly believe it possible on the part of the stout chum to attempt such a bold thing, in the first place, and actually carry it to a successful issue in the second.
Billie wagged his head, and a proud gleam came into his sunny blue eyes.
“I got away with it, though how I did the same will puzzle me lots,” he started to explain. “But when I saw that bunch with their heads so close together I just made up my mind they must be plottin’ like fun; and I wished I could get a chance to listen. Then, all at once I noticed that there was a way a fellow might crawl up back of the rocks, if only he knew how to do it. How I wished either you or Donald was with me; because you see I was afraid that I’d make a bad job of the thing, and only get a few nice kicks for my trouble. But all at once I gritted my teeth this way, you know; and when I do that there’s going to something happen, make up your mind to that.”
“Yes, I know, Billie, there surely is; and so you concluded to try the crawl by yourself, did you?”
“I just got down on my ham-bones, and began to sneak along the best I knew how,” the enthusiastic fat boy went on to say, excitedly, as though even the remembrance of his recent feat stirred him to the core. “Inch by inch, and foot by foot, I went crawling along, till at last I landed in the snuggest little nook you ever saw, and where I couldn’t go any further because there wasn’t any more cover.”
“And what did you hear?” asked Adrian.
“I just managed to pick up a few words now and then, when one of the bunch talked a little louder than common; and at first it was like a lot of Choctaw to me, because, you see, I hadn’t got my clue yet. After a little I could put things together better, and then the whole thing flashed on me like an avalanche.”
“Yes, go on, Billie, I’m listening,” urged the other, beginning to himself feel the thrill of eager expectation, which of course was what Billie was leading up to all this while.
“Let me tell you what I reckon that schemer Braddon is planning to do with his big pay promises to the old Zuni chief,” Billie continued, impressively; “he wants to get the greater part of the tribe to flock away after him; and when he finds a chance he means to give ’em the slip, come back here, and force the old medicine man to show him where that wonderful treasure of his lies, that has been talked about so much all through this region for years! What d’ye think of that for a grand scheme, now, Pard Adrian?”
The other sat there for a full minute, as though digesting the tremendous idea in his mind, while Billie waited to hear what his opinion might be, his face reflecting the various emotions that controlled him.
Finally Adrian looked up.
“First of all, let me congratulate you, Billie, on doing what you did. It was the work of no greenhorn. After this Donald and myself have got to look out, if we don’t want to wake up some fine morning, and find ourselves only has-beens. You’re getting there with a rush. But I reckon you hugged that hiding-place till they went about their business; you never tried to crawl back again, and take new chances?”
“I guess I knew enough for that, Adrian. I just lay there, and waited. They went off after a bit; and when the coast was clear, I stepped out and walked around, like nothing was the matter. But as soon as I got the first chance, let me tell you I scooted for the camp, licketty-split. I was fairly bursting with that news. And it’s nice of you to pay me such a compliment, that’s right. I feel as if it was worth all it cost, just to know that one of my chums appreciates me.”
“And the other will say the same when he hears what you did,” Adrian hastened to declare. “But I wish Donald would show up; he’s been gone all of two hours.”
“Say, you don’t think they could a got hold of him, any sort of way, do you, Adrian?” questioned Billie, as though a sudden terrible suspicion had gripped him.
“Well, hardly, in broad daylight,” laughed the other; “if it was night, now, there might be some little reason to think that way. He’ll be along soon. P’raps he’s found those cowboys good company, and is clinching them as friends, so we could rely on their backing, if it came to such a showdown.”
“Oh! I hope we don’t have trouble with that bunch,” remarked Billie; “because I’m opposed to violence, you know; but then, if they try to chase us out of this Zuni town, I reckon I’d get my back up, and kick just as hard as the rest of you. But you believe what I told you, don’t you, Adrian?”
“It seems almost too terrible to believe, but when I remember the look on the face of that man, Mark Braddon, I’m tempted to say that nothing would be too dreadful for him to try, if he thought he saw a chance to make a big haul by it.”
“Well, he would, if his game worked well, and they could force the old medicine man to give up the secret of his hidden treasure,” Billie went on to say in a reflective sort of way. “Goodness knows we’ve heard a heap about the same; and if even one tenth of it is true, he must know where a mighty rich gold vein lies in the heart of this old Sacred Mountain of theirs.”
“Still, do you know, I’m not so very much surprised at what you’ve been telling me,” the other chum went on to say.
“You sort of had an idea he was up to some dodge like that, didn’t you, Adrian?” Billie asked; for he had fallen into a way of believing that these two wide-awake comrades of his could see through puzzles that bothered him greatly.
“He looked like a man who would engineer a big game, and yet I couldn’t seem to get it through my head what sort of a play he could make by luring the chief away with more than half the tribe. Then what I heard about the tremendous pay he offered, which he kept on increasing every new time he talked it over with the head man, made me suspect that he never meant to do the right thing. But honest now, Billie, I never once thought of such a clever scheme as you’ve been telling me about.”
“Well, what’ll we do about it?” demanded the fat chum.
“Nothing right away, I should think,” replied Adrian, after apparently thinking it all over.
“What, not even tell the chief how he’s been taken in and done for; would that be fair and square for us, Adrian?”
“There’s no hurry, you see,” answered the other, calmly; “look at the thing without getting excited, Billie, and you’ll agree with me. To-morrow comes the day for all this Zuni ceremony business to reach a head, for they’re going to give the rattlesnake dance then. After that’s once over with we can get the chief to listen, while you tell all you heard. He’d be a fool after that to take any stock in the big offers of money that Braddon is making, to coax him to be an attraction for his Wild West Show, which, between you and me, I never heard of, and don’t believe ever had any existence.”
Billie sighed. Perhaps he still thought they should “make hay while the sun shone,” and it may have been that he secretly feared lest the schemer Braddon find some way to get the better of them; so that his path might be cleared, and nothing interfere with the carrying out of his villainous scheme.
But then he was so accustomed by now to yielding to the better judgment of his two chums that he did not offer any further objections.
“We’ll see what Donald says about it when he comes in,” added Adrian; “though I feel pretty sure he’ll think the same that I do. We don’t want anything to interfere with our enjoying that wonderful affair tomorrow, you know. And this fakir of a showman can’t just swoop off with the main part of the village in the wink of an eye. If they concluded to go with him they’d have to take some time to make preparations, you see; and that’d let us have a chance to whisper a few interesting things in the ear of the old chief, that might make him sit up and take notice.”
“You’re right, Adrian, quite right,” admitted Billie, as though fully convinced by this time; “there’s no desperate need of hurry; and just as you often say, many a well laid plan’s gone to pieces because of too much haste. But we’ll soon know what Donald has to say about it, because here he comes right now, and with a wide grin on his face, as though he’d made good friends of those cow-punchers!”
That night saw many strange things going on in the Zuni village, to all of which our three young friends gave close attention; for they were deeply interested in the quaint ceremonies of these people who traced their ancestors far back beyond the time of the red man on the continent of North America.
They did not forget to keep close together after the shades of night fell; for both Donald and Adrian were agreed on that subject, to the effect that a man with such a lack of conscience as Braddon, who would scheme to rob these poor Indians, and lure them away from their home on a false trail, just to endeavor to learn the old medicine man’s secret, and profit by the same, would not stop at anything.
Donald had been of the same mind as the other chum, with regard to keeping their secret for a short time, until the Zuni ceremony of the rattlesnake dance had been gone through with. And accordingly none of them had made the first move looking to interviewing the old chief, who was so much taken up with his duties that he had no time for talking now.
When they finally came back to the tent, cautious Adrian made it his business to carefully examine it all over. Billie watched this operation with interest. He finally demanded to know what the other expected to find, and if it could be anything in the nature of a bomb.
“I know that away Down East, around New York City, the Italian Black Hand do that sort of thing regularly; but I never dreamed it could happen out here,” he went on to say, uneasily; as though it was not very pleasant to suspect that in the middle of a sentence a fellow might be suddenly hoisted heavenward by some infernal machine exploding under his blanket.
“Oh! I hardly expected to find that,” Adrian assured him; “but this is a queer country, and all sorts of strange things happen. Remember, now, about that poisoned spring. With so many crawling critters around here, it struck me that a fellow would be only showing ordinary wisdom to look under his blanket before he lay down.”
“That’s right,” added Donald; “and I’m going to put that horse-hair lariat of mine in a double loop around the tent; because cowboys say that a snake will never crawl across one of that sort. The hair tickles ’em, and scares ’em off, I understand.”
“Besides, we’re going to keep watch, you know, Donald,” Adrian remarked.
Billie was on the point of stoutly announcing that he must have his assignment in this part of the camp duty, when he suddenly remembered the mess he had made of it the last time they let him try. So he was forced to gulp down his bitter disappointment, and let it pass him by. If Billie’s ability to accomplish things were only as good as his ambition to try, there would never have been any trouble; but the fact was, he could not keep awake after a certain hour any more than he could refrain from eating when hungry, and the opportunity came along.
But after all, there was no sudden alarm during the night, although the sentry sat there with a gun across his knees every minute of the time he was on duty, and ready to give any creeper the surprise of his life.
Perhaps those whom they fancied might want to disturb them guessed that the boys would be on the watch; and knowing that they possessed rifles, they did not care to take the risk of being shot.
At any rate, morning found them just as the sinking sun had left them, making preparations for a meal; and in the eyes of Billie this was the essence of delight, as we have learned long since.
The morning was to be given up to a number of minor events that would be of considerable importance, though it was in the afternoon that the culmination of the whole ceremony would come about in the thrilling rattlesnake dance, the reputation of which had gone all over the land.
The Broncho Rider Boys were deeply interested in everything, and Billie used his little kodak freely, in snapping off pictures that appealed to him as worth preserving.
Like all other tribes of Indians, the Zunis have a test through which their boys have to go before they can be called real braves, and be looked upon as full fledged warriors, capable of taking arms, and doing the fighting for the tribe; though it has been a long time, doubtless, since the Zunis have gone upon the warpath, because their old-time enemies, the Apaches, have been on a reservation for many years.
Still, that must not interfere in any degree from the making of warriors; and as might be expected, the ability to stoically endure terrible bodily pain is the main feature of these tests.
There were half a dozen applicants, being young boys who aspired to assume the privileges of the warrior class, perhaps select a future wife, and settle down to having homes of their own, up among those tiers of rock houses.
They showed what they could do in all manner of contests, and after winning the admiration of all observers, these young lads submitted themselves to the committee, headed by the old medicine man, and which had a programme laid out that caused some of the paleface observers to shudder, and turn away.
Those dusky sons of the desert allowed their judges to pass splinters of tough wood through certain muscles of their arms and shoulders, and not one of them by so much as a single groan manifested any interest in the matter. A stolid look on their faces told that they had steeled themselves to endure anything, rather than be disgraced by a cry of anguish.
They were then hung up from the supports erected for this especial purpose, the ropes being actually secured to the wooden splinters that had been passed through their flesh.
It made even Donald shudder when one of the judges, at an order from the awful-looking medicine man, actually started to turn the victims around; for the agony must have been terrible indeed.
One of the wretched candidates actually fainted dead away, and hung there in that condition; but there was not a groan, not even a sigh, or a look of pain on any of their faces.
It was the greatest exhibition of courage, and ability to suffer in absolute silence, that any of the spectators had ever witnessed. Billie had to put his quivering hand before his eyes, and finally turn away, being utterly unable to stand it any longer.
Still, this had been the custom of these people for all the centuries. They believed that no man could assume the name of a warrior who was not able to laugh at his mortal foes as they invented all manner of fiendish cruelties in the way of torture, should he by chance fall into their hands during war times.
Other things not so fearful were carried out, some of them ceremonial dances that had to do with the “sacred meal,” and such things. Billie had taken pictures of everything that came along; even the six dangling candidates for honors as budding warriors had not been neglected, though his hands did tremble so much at this spectacle that he could hardly press the button of his camera.
And now it was all over but the one grand final scene that the afternoon was to witness, and which was the culminating event of the whole occasion.
The boys wandered back to their camp, bent on cooking something for a meal, and then lounging around until from the bustle and confusion they knew that it was high time they sought their places on the elevated rocks above the little plaza, where these interesting things were taking place.
Everything seemed to be just as they had left it, as Adrian, a little suspicious perhaps, made up his mind, after he had cast a quick look around.
Billie started in at once to gather some wood, so as to make a fire. When there was anything in the line of cooking going on, he could show an astonishing amount of spryness for a fellow so stout.
“You never saw anything like this before, I reckon, Donald?” Adrian asked, as the two of them busied themselves getting things ready, so that when Billie had his blaze started they could put the coffee and frying-pan on, and thus begin dinner.
“No, and I’ve always wanted to have a chance to watch how they did these queer stunts,” replied the other; “but between us, Ad, I’ve pretty nearly got my fill of Zuni practices.”
“Same here, Donald,” replied his chum, with a shrug of his shoulders that spoke even more plainly than his words, “I felt a cold chill run all over me when I saw those boys hung up there, with their whole weight supported by those skewers run through their shoulder muscles. Ugh! made me think of a beef that was put in the ice-house to hang, till it got tender. But they never whimpered once. Talk to me about your grit, did you ever see any equal to that?”
“I think any one of those brave chaps would sooner have died outright than let his folks and friends hear a groan from his lips. And how long do you suppose they’ll let those boys hang there, Adrian; why, perhaps until sheer tomorrow morning, unless by good luck one of them chances to twist and squirm around, until he actually breaks loose, when he can crawl to his father’s hole in the rock, and lie down on a blanket. But under no circumstances must one of them be taken down until a certain number of hours have passed.”
“Well, I’m glad I ain’t a Zuni!” Billie was heard to say about that time; “but what’s that fastened to the flap of the tent just behind you, Donald? I declare if it don’t look like a dirty piece of paper.”
Donald turned quickly, and in another instant had the object which Billie’s sharp eyes had detected, in his hand.
“It is a piece of paper, and here’s some writing on the same!” he exclaimed.
“Wow! another letter of warning, mebbe, just like that was at the poisoned spring!” cried Billie, crowding close to the shoulder of Donald, as the other read out what he found written there, in a rough way, but evidently meant in sincerity:
“Yu want to watch out fur that showman Hes aplannin to git yu all into a bad hole sos yull be kicked outen thee plac Hes ben an fixed the sam with a pair of his crones to steal the ole fraud medcin mans belt that he valles moren his lif an hid same in yur tent Keep yur eyes peeld an ketch the pizen snake at his game No mor at presnt but look out yu dont git nabbed A Frend”
No sooner had Donald finished reading this scrawl than Billie broke out with:
“Looky, will you, boys, just the same kind of crooked writing and bad spelling there was in that other warning letter. Yes, sir, it’s from that same unknown friend that keeps watch over us, and never shows himself. Don’t it beat all who he can be?”
“You hit the right nail on the head, Billie, when you said that,” was the way Donald told how he agreed with the remark of the other.
In fact, all of them had been struck with the similarity of the crooked handwriting that they saw upon the soiled piece of paper before them, and that which had been upon the warning at the spring.
To make doubly sure Billie pulled out the latter, he having secured it at the time; and a hasty examination proved to be all that was necessary to convince the three boys that their suspicions held good.
“The same hand wrote both!” declared Adrian.
“All right,” spoke up Billie, instantly; “don’t that prove the other warning was meant right for us, and not stuck there in a general way, as Donald here seemed to think?”
“I own up that the proof is overwhelming, Billie,” admitted the party in question; “but just to think of them laying such a measly plot to get us in bad favor with our new friend, the Zuni chief. I remember seeing that belt right well, and remarked at the time that it was the finest one I had ever set eyes on, and I’ve seen quite a bunch of the same among the Indians on the reservations; for they try to excel each other making them valuable with precious stones and little nuggets of gold.”
“Yes,” added Adrian, “and I could hardly take my eyes off it this very morning, when the medicine man took a share in the first part of the programme. Then he left the rest to some sub-chiefs, and went away with the head of the tribe. It’s a beauty of a belt, and must be worth considerable, just in money alone.”
“Huh!” grunted Billie, “didn’t this unknown friend of ours say right there that the Witch Doctor values it more’n his own life. And the meanness of them to think to steal it, and fasten the job on us for keeps! It makes my blood boil, I tell you! Yes, I’m opposed to violence of all kinds, except when it’s necessary to teach a rascal like Braddon that the Broncho Rider Boys can take care of themselves, thank you. Why, I’d almost feel like puncturing one of his arms or legs with a bit of hot lead from my trusty rifle, so as to teach him the lesson he needs.”
“Hold your fire, Billie; we may need all the ammunition we’ve got before we’re through with this thing,” advised Donald.
“Oh! I’m only saying what I’d like to do, not what I expect to,” remarked Billie, as he carefully placed the two “warnings” away in one of the pockets of his khaki hunting coat. “Wonder how many more times this bully friend is agoing to do us a good turn, without showing his face?”
Adrian and Donald exchanged looks, and then the former went on to say:
“Seems like we’ll have to pass that by, Billie, because nobody knows. Just who he is, and why he keeps so shy, is more’n I can guess. Perhaps some day he’ll come out into the open, and let us see who we’ve got to thank. If you asked me to give my best guess now, I’d say he’s one of those same punchers Donald was making friends with yesterday. He’s keeping it up just for a lark, to sort of bother us. There’s no accounting for some people’s sense of what they call humor. He may think it’s the best joke he ever had to do with, just keeping us guessing.”
“Well, I only hope that some day I’ll be able to tell him how much we think of him for watching out for us like he has,” ventured the fat chum, looking all around as he spoke, as though half hoping he might see a laughing, sun-burned face projecting from behind nearby rocks, waiting to be invited to join their circle; but nothing of the kind was visible.
Adrian happened to think of something just then, and spoke to Donald, who, not being engaged at that particular moment, arose, and slipped inside the tent.
“Whee! I wonder none of us thought of doing that before now!” burst from Billie, showing that he had noticed the movement, and instantly jumped to some conclusion concerning the same.
There was heard a sound from within, as though Donald might be turning things over in a hurried search. Then they heard him give vent to a low ejaculation that somehow sent a thrill of expectancy through both the chums without.
Immediately Donald came rushing into the outer air. He was gripping something in one of his hands, and half holding the same aloft, while his face was indeed a study, being both triumphant and grim at the same time, a curious combination indeed.
There was no need for him to shout aloud, and tell the others what he had discovered secreted under some of their traps in the tent; for both Adrian and Billie had eyes, and could see for themselves.
It was the sacred belt of the old Zuni medicine man, which they had seen fastened about his waist only an hour or two previous, and which he undoubtedly valued above all price, as a part of his ensignia of office—the magical belt which was believed by his people to have come down to him from the home of the Great Manitou in the Happy Hunting Grounds of the red men in the other world.
Billie tried to say something, but although his jaws were seen to work, only a queer gasping sound proceeded from between them. His very breath seemed to have been taken completely away by the astounding nature of the discovery made by the other chum, inside their tent.
It was not so bad with Adrian. He could command his speech, though almost as much staggered as poor Billie at sight of the Indian belt.
“They didn’t lose any time in getting busy, did they, Donald?” was what first came into his mind to say.
“I should say not,” replied the boy who held the belt. “While we were away some sneak crept into our tent here, and hid this under our traps. You can see what the game is; later on the medicine man will learn of his loss, and set up the biggest howl ever. Then somebody’ll kind of give him a sly hint that perhaps the paleface boys may know something about that same belt; for one of them was seen hanging around the rock lodge of the Witch Doctor—which was you, Billie, while trying to get a picture of the medicine man just coming out of his place, which the Indians believe is bewitched, so that nothing could hire one of them to even peep inside.”
“That’s about the way they mean to work it, as sure as you’re born,” agreed Adrian, nodding his head in confirmation.
“When d’ye reckon they’d get here, to look for the lost belt?” asked Billie, eying the dinner that was by now cooking merrily; and his plaintive manner declared even more than his words expressed; for Billie was worrying as to whether or not they would be allowed to enjoy their meal in peace.
“I was just thinking that it might be a dangerous thing for us to keep that belt here any longer than we can help,” remarked Adrian, thoughtfully.
“Yes,” added Donald, “because we don’t know the minute the medicine man will discover his loss; and then things will get pretty hot around the old town, as sure as you live. Perhaps I’d better hide it under my coat, and hunt up the old chief right away. I’ll tell him how it is, and that some enemy has done this just to make him drive us out of the village, so we can’t influence him any more against accepting the offer of this pretended showman.”
“Do it while you may, then, Donald; we’ll keep some dinner piping hot for you, make sure of that!” declared Billie, in a great perspiration lest he turn and see a crowd of the Zuni braves on the run toward the spot where they had located their tent, and headed by that terrible figure of the aroused medicine man.
Donald immediately crushed the glittering belt into an inside pocket of his hunting coat.
He next stooped down and took hold of his rifle; for things were getting a bit too exciting around that Zuni village to allow of his going without some means for self-defense.
“Watch out for signs of trouble, boys!” were his last words, as he started to walk hastily away, heading for the rock settlement.
The pair thus left in the camp proceeded to continue cooking their dinner as though they had nothing to worry about. All the same, Billie was forever casting suspicious glances all around, as though he expected at any moment to discover a band of excited braves coming on the full run for their camp, and with the wizard of the tribe leading the march, bent on conducting a search, and with a hope of finding the lost sacred article.
Donald had been gone possibly ten minutes at the most when an exclamation from Billie announced that he had at last caught sight of the object his excited fancy had been conjuring up every second of the time since Donald vanished among the outcropping masses of stones, which would offer the spectators good seats later on from which they could observe all that went on, and at the same time feel perfectly safe from any of the crawling things that had a big share in the ceremony of the rattlesnake dance.
“Coming, are they, Billie?” asked Adrian, as calmly as he could, although there was a trace of unsteadiness in his tones as he quietly laid down the frying-pan he had been attending, and stood up, the better to see.
Yes, it was true, there could not be a solitary doubt of that. From out of the Zuni village a group of figures had burst, and these now came hurrying along toward the spot where the boys had raised their tent, and put out their ponies to graze.
“Whew! Look at the medicine man striding along at the head of the bunch, would you, Adrian?” burst out Billie. “There’s that Braddon along, also one of his cowardly helpers, the young chap we believe must be his son, Hey! Adrian, shall we let ’em come into camp, and nose around, or do you mean to hold the lot up with a show of guns?”
Billie had made sure to have his repeating rifle close at hand all the while. Just as soon as he learned there was a strong likelihood that the camp was going to be invaded sooner or later, and themselves accused of a crime they had never dreamed of carrying out, the fat boy trailed his gun all around with him, no matter if he only stepped out to pick up another armful of fuel, so that the fire could be kept going, and their lunch continue to cook.
“If I’ve learned one thing since I came out to this country,” Billie often said these days, “it’s this: that whenever you do want a gun you want it in a mighty big hurry; and I don’t calculate to get left more’n I can help.”
“We’ve got to let them make a search; but neither of those white men shall take a step inside our tent,” declared Adrian, resolutely, as he too picked up his gun. “Because I wouldn’t put it past them to drop something else there, and then make out to find it. Let me do the talking, please, Billie, that’s a good fellow!”