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+Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts On The Range, by Lieut. Howard Payson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Boy Scouts On The Range
+
+Author: Lieut. Howard Payson
+
+Release Date: January 25, 2011 [EBook #35071]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Barbara Kosker and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ THE
+ BOY SCOUTS ON
+ THE RANGE
+
+
+
+
+ BY
+ LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON
+
+
+
+
+ NEW YORK
+ HURST & COMPANY
+ PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+ Copyright, 1911,
+ BY
+ HURST & COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ CHAPTER                                           PAGE
+
+      I. ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER                  5
+
+     II. NEWS OF THE MOQUIS                          23
+
+    III. THE DESERT WATER HOLE                       38
+
+     IV. SILVER TIP APPEARS                          54
+
+      V. AT THE HARKNESS RANCH                       65
+
+     VI. A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER"                75
+
+    VII. THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE             87
+
+   VIII. HEMMED IN BY THE HERD                      100
+
+     IX. THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE                112
+
+      X. THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING             125
+
+     XI. CAPTURED BY MOQUIS                         137
+
+    XII. TUBBY'S PERIL                              148
+
+   XIII. A FRIEND IN NEED                           161
+
+    XIV. A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER                     172
+
+     XV. WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT?                  185
+
+    XVI. BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO                   195
+
+   XVII. IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY             205
+
+  XVIII. THE INDIAN AGENT                           220
+
+    XIX. BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT                        233
+
+     XX. THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL                  246
+
+    XXI. THE MAVERICK RAID                          257
+
+   XXII. CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE             269
+
+  XXIII. THE WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE               280
+
+   XXIV. BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE                   291
+
+
+
+
+The Boy Scouts on the Range.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER.
+
+
+Northward from Truxton, Arizona, the desert stretches a red-hot, sandy
+arm, the elbow of which crooks about several arid ranges of baked hills
+clothed with a scanty growth of chaparral. Across this sun-bitten
+solitude of sand and sage brush extend two parallel steel lines--the
+branch of the Southern Pacific which at Truxton takes a bold plunge into
+the white solitudes of the dry country.
+
+Scattered few and far between on the monotonous level are desert towns,
+overtopped by lofty water tanks, perched on steel towers, in the place
+of trees, and sun-baked like everything else in the "great sandy."
+These isolated communities, the railroad serves. Twice a day, with the
+deliberate pace of the Gila Monster, a dusty train of three cars, drawn
+by a locomotive of obsolete pattern,--which has been not inaptly
+compared to a tailor's goose with a fire in it--makes its slow way.
+
+Rumbling through a gloomy, rock-walled cut traversing the barren range
+of the Sierra Tortilla, the railroad emerges--after much bumping through
+scorched foothills and rattling over straddle-legged trestles above dry
+arroyos--at Mesaville. Mesaville stands on the south bank of the San
+Pedro, a scanty branch of the Gila River. To the south of this little
+desert community, across the quivering stretches of glaring sand and
+mesquite, there hangs always a blue cloud--the Santa Catapina Range.
+
+The blazing noonday sun lay smitingly over Mesaville and the inhabitants
+of that town, when on a September day the dust-powdered train before
+referred to drew up groaningly at the depot, and from one of its forward
+cars there emerged three boys of a type strange to the primitive
+settlement.
+
+The eldest of the three, a boy of about seventeen, whom his two friends
+addressed as Rob, was Rob Blake, whom readers of the Boy Scouts of the
+Eagle Patrol--the first volume of this series--have met before. His
+companions were Corporal Merritt Crawford of the same patrol, and the
+rotund Tubby Hopkins, the son of widow Hopkins of Hampton, Long Island,
+from which village all three, in fact, came.
+
+"Well, here we are at Mesaville."
+
+Rob Blake gazed across the hot tracks at the row of raw buildings
+opposite as he spoke, and the town gazed back in frank curiosity at him.
+Opposite the depot was a small hotel, on the porch of which several
+figures had been seated with their chairs tilted back, and their feet on
+the rail, as the train rolled in.
+
+As it pulled out again, leaving the boys and an imposing pile of baggage
+exposed to the view of the Mesavillians, six pairs of feet were removed
+from the porch-rails as if by machinery, and their several owners bent
+forward in a frank stare at the newcomers.
+
+"Must think a circus has come to town," commented Tubby.
+
+"Well, they know where to look for the elephant," teased Merritt
+mischievously.
+
+"And for the laughing hyena, too, I guess," parried the fat youth, as
+the corporal went off into a paroxysm of suddenly checked laughter.
+
+The boys had bought sombreros at Truxton, and in their baggage was
+clothing of the kind which Harry Harkness--at whose invitation they had
+come to this part of the country--had advised them to buy. But as they
+still wore their light summer suits of Eastern cut and make, their
+generally "different" look from the members of the Mesaville Hotel
+Loungers' Association was quite sufficient to excite the attention of
+the latter.
+
+Readers of the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol will recall that in that
+book was related the formation of the patrol at Hampton Harbor, L. I.,
+and how it had been effected. How the boys of the patrol had many
+opportunities to show that they were true scouts was also told. Notably
+was this so in the incident of the stolen uniforms, in which the boys'
+enemies, Jack Curtiss, Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft, a disreputable
+old town character, were implicated.
+
+It will also be remembered that while encamped on an island near their
+home village, the Boy Scouts put off in a motor dory to the rescue of a
+stranded cattle ship on which Mr. Harkness, a cattle rancher, and his
+son Harry, a lad of the boys' own age, were returning from London,
+whither they had just taken a big consignment of stock. In return for
+their services, including the summoning of aid by wireless, Mr. Harkness
+invited the boys to spend some time on his cattle range. What
+adventurous boys would not have leaped at the invitation? But for a time
+it appeared as if it would be impossible for Rob and his chums to accept
+it, owing to the fact that the Hampton Academy, which they all attended,
+resumed its school term early in the fall.
+
+Just at this time, however, something happened which was very welcome
+to all three of the Scouts. Serious defects had been discovered in the
+foundation of the Academy, and it had been decided that it would be
+unsafe for the scholars to reassemble till these had been remedied. It
+was estimated that the work would take two months or more. Thus it had
+come about that the invitation of Mr. Harkness was accepted. To the
+boys' regret, however, only the members of the Patrol who stood that day
+on the platform at Mesaville had been able to obtain the consent of
+their parents to take the long, and to Eastern eyes, hazardous, trip.
+
+Arrangements had been made by letter for Harry Harkness, the rancher's
+son, to meet the boys at Mesaville, but the train had rolled in and
+rolled out again without his putting in an appearance.
+
+"Maybe Harry fell in that river and was drowned," suggested Tubby,
+pointing ahead down the tracks to the trestle crossing the San Pedro
+River. At this time of the year the so-called river was a mere trickle
+of mud-colored water, threading its way between high, sandy banks. The
+boys burst into a laugh at the idea of any one's drowning in it.
+
+"He'll be here before long," said Rob confidently. "It's a drive of more
+than fifty miles to the ranch, remember, and we can't start out till
+to-morrow morning, anyhow."
+
+Just then a white-aproned Chinaman appeared on the porch of the hotel
+and vigorously rang a bell. At the signal the lounging cow-punchers and
+plainsmen rose languidly from their chairs and bolted into the
+dining-room. From the few stores also appeared the merchants of
+Mesaville, most of whom lived at the hotel.
+
+"Sounds like dinner," remarked Tubby hopefully, sniffing the air on
+which an odor of food was wafted across the tracks. "Smells like it,
+too."
+
+"Trust Tubby to detect grub," laughed Rob.
+
+"He's a culinary Sherlock Holmes," declared Merritt, but his remark was
+made to Rob alone, for Tubby was beyond the reach of his sarcasm. He
+had started at once to cross the tracks and find the dining-room.
+
+"I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea to have something to eat while we're
+waiting," said Rob. "Let's go over."
+
+Tubby was already installed in a seat at the long table when his chums
+entered. He had in front of him a plate of soup, on the top of which
+floated a sort of upper crust of grease. From time to time an
+investigating fly ventured too near the edge and was miserably drowned.
+It was Tubby's initiation into desert hotel life, and he didn't look as
+if he was enjoying it.
+
+On both sides of the table, however, the cow-punchers, teamsters, and
+Mesaville commercial lights, were shoveling away their food without the
+flicker of an eyelash. Opposite to Tubby were seated two young fellows
+in cowboy garb, who seemed to extract much noisy amusement from watching
+the stout youth eat. They didn't seem to care if he overheard their
+somewhat personal remarks.
+
+"Ah, there's a lad who'll be a help to his folks when he grows up,"
+grinned one of the stout boy's tormentors, as Rob and Merritt took their
+seats.
+
+"Which will be before you do," placidly murmured Tubby, continuing to
+eat his soup.
+
+A shout of laughter went up at this, and it wasn't at Tubby's expense,
+either.
+
+The two youths who had been so anxious to display their wit reddened,
+and one of them angrily said something about "the fresh tenderfoot."
+
+"Here's two more of 'em," tittered the other, as Merritt and Rob came
+in. Rob wore on his breast, but pinned on his waistcoat and out of
+sight, the Red Honor for lifesaving, which had been presented to him for
+heroism at the time of the waterlogging of the hydroplane, as narrated
+in the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol. Merritt also wore the decoration
+in the same inconspicuous place.
+
+As the leader of the Eagle Patrol sat down, however, his coat caught
+against Tubby's shoulder and was thrown back, exposing the decoration.
+
+"Oh! ho! Look at the tenderfoot's medal," chuckled one of the young
+cattlemen; "wonder what it's for?"
+
+"The championship of the bread and milk eaters of New York State, I
+reckon," grinned the other, and another shout of laughter bore witness
+to the table's approval of this primitive humor.
+
+Rob flushed angrily, but said nothing. He did not wish to stir up
+trouble with two such ill-mannered young boors as the cattle-punchers
+were showing themselves to be. Encouraged by his silence, the badgering
+went on. One by one the other guests had been served by the Chinese
+attendant, with raisin pie and half-melted cheese, and had arisen and
+left the room. The two young cow-punchers and the Boy Scouts were
+shortly left alone in the fly-infested apartment. Rob and Merritt, who
+found the surroundings little to their liking, hurried through their
+meal, but Tubby ate conscientiously through everything that was brought
+him.
+
+It now grew plain, even if it had not been so before, that the two
+sun-burned young plainsmen sitting opposite the boys were deliberately
+trying to aggravate them.
+
+Interpreting the boys' silence as fear, they grew bolder and bolder in
+their remarks.
+
+"Have to catch up a real cow, I reckon," dreamily went on one of the
+boys' tormentors, gazing at the ceiling abstractedly, but fingering the
+condensed milk can.
+
+"What for?" inquired the other, playing into his hand.
+
+"Why, the tin cow might disagree with mama's boys."
+
+"Ho-ho-ho! Say, Clark."
+
+"What, Jess?"
+
+"Reckon they must be overstocked with yearlings East."
+
+"Looks that way. Do you suppose Easterners are born or jest grow?"
+
+The youth addressed by his companion as Jess looked straight at Rob as
+he spoke, and the insult was unmistakable. Rob's self-control suddenly
+deserted him with a rush.
+
+"I'll answer for your friend," he snapped out. "They
+grow-and-they-grow-right."
+
+Tubby looked up in surprise from his raisin pie, and Merritt's eyes
+opened wide at Rob's tone. It foreboded trouble as sure as a hurricane
+signal foretells a storm.
+
+"My! my!" grinned Jess, but it was an uncomfortable sort of a grin,
+"hear the little boy with the medal talk. Come on, Clark, let's go see
+to the ponies while the tenderfeet wait for their nurse to come and take
+their bibs off."
+
+They rose from the table, but Rob, still inwardly raging but outwardly
+cool as ice, stopped them.
+
+"Say," he said, "are you fellows cattlemen?"
+
+"You bet, stranger, from the ground up," rejoined Clark, with a vast air
+of self-importance.
+
+"Well, then we've been misinformed in the East," said Rob, coolly
+brushing a few stray crumbs from his knees.
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"Why, we'd been told that cattlemen were natural gentlemen; but whoever
+told us that was dead wrong. Judging by you fellows, they're not
+natural, and certainly not the other thing."
+
+Clark's face grew crimson and he muttered something about "fixing the
+fresh kid," but his companion drew him away.
+
+"We'll have plenty of time to rope and brand these young mavericks," he
+said, as they left the room.
+
+As they vanished Rob burst into a shout of laughter.
+
+"Score one for the Boy Scouts," he said. "If ever there were two
+discomfited cow-punchers, those fellows are it."
+
+The landlord, who had entered the room a few moments before, came
+forward as the boys arose from the table. He was a tall, lanky man, with
+a look of perpetual gloom on his face. A drooping, straw-colored
+mustache did not help to enliven his funereal features.
+
+"Say, strangers," he said, in a dismal voice, "you've started in bad."
+
+"How's that?" inquired Rob, in a somewhat peppery tone.
+
+"Why, riling up Clark Jennings and Jess Randell; they's two of the
+toughest boys in the country."
+
+"Think so, I guess," snorted Tubby.
+
+"Well, wait and see," said the landlord, with a melancholy shrug of his
+sloping shoulders. "Three dinners, please."
+
+He extended a yellow palm.
+
+"How much?" asked Rob, putting his hand in his pocket.
+
+"Three dollars and six bits."
+
+"What! three dollars and seventy-five cents for that fly-ridden stuff?"
+
+"That's the charge, stranger."
+
+Rob, seeing there was no use arguing, paid over the money, in exchange
+for which they had received three greasy plates of soup, three portions
+of ragged, overdone bull beef, and three slabs of raisin pie, together
+with three cups of muddy, inky coffee. But a sudden impulse of
+curiosity gripped him.
+
+"Say, what's the twenty-five cents extra all round for?" he asked.
+
+"Fer your ponies," rejoined the landlord, more miserably than ever. He
+seemed to be on the point of bursting into tears.
+
+"Ponies!" gasped Rob. "We haven't got any."
+
+"Never mind, it's a rule of the house," said the landlord, as if that
+settled the matter; "and if you ain't got any ponies it ain't my fault,
+is it?"
+
+There was no answering this sort of logic, and the boys strolled out to
+the porch to see if they could sight any trace of Harry Harkness. There
+was no sign of him, however, and after a prolonged period of gazing
+across the blazing desert, the boys sank back in three of the big
+rockers that stood in a row on the porch. It was dull, sitting there in
+the intense heat and drowsy silence, broken only at long intervals by
+the clatter of a pony's hoofs as some cow-puncher ambled by at an easy
+lope. A loud snore from Tubby soon proclaimed that he was off, and
+Merritt and Rob were about to follow him into the land of dreams, when
+there came a sudden interruption.
+
+Rob felt his shoulder roughly seized from behind, and a harsh, mandatory
+voice addressed him:
+
+"Say, that's my chair you're sitting in. You'll have to get out."
+
+The boy turned and saw Clark Jennings glaring at him. Close beside him,
+with a grin on his face, was Jess Randell.
+
+"Even supposing it is your chair," said Rob, "you can ask me for it like
+a gentleman,--then," he added to himself, "I'll think over giving it to
+you."
+
+"Oh, I guess you think you're a mighty fine gentleman?"
+
+"I hope I am one, yes."
+
+"Well, out here gentlemen have to fight for their title. Are you going
+to give me that chair?"
+
+"As you are no more a guest of this hotel than I am, I shall sit here
+till I get ready to get up."
+
+"Then I'll have to help you out----Ouch!"
+
+The remark and the exclamation came close together. Clark Jennings had
+bent forward as he spoke, and roughly laid hold of Rob to pull him from
+the chair by main force. As he did so, however, Rob had suddenly changed
+from a passive, rather sleepy boy, to a bundle of steel springs full of
+fight. Clark Jennings, as he laid hold of Rob, had felt himself hurled
+backward. Unable to check his impetus, he had landed against the wall of
+the hotel with a force which caused him to give vent to the exclamation
+recorded.
+
+"Look out, tenderfoot, he'll kill yer," warned the melancholy landlord
+from the window of the office, where he had been entering in a greasy
+book the extortion practiced on the boys.
+
+Several cow-punchers awoke to interest at the same time as Tubby and
+Merritt began to realize what was happening.
+
+His eyes blazing with fury, Clark Jennings crouched low, and then
+reaching back drew a revolver from his hip. He aimed it full at Rob,
+but simultaneously a strange thing happened. Rob was seen to dart
+forward, diving right under the leveled pistol. The next instant the
+weapon was spinning through the air. It landed with a thump in the
+middle of the dusty road. But Clark Jennings didn't see it, for the
+excellent reason that at that precise moment he was lying flat on his
+back on the hotel veranda. Before his eyes swam a whole galaxy of
+constellations. Over him stood Rob, with flushed face and clinched
+fists.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+NEWS OF THE MOQUIS.
+
+
+"Wow!" yelled the onlookers, as Clark's body struck the floor with a
+resounding thwack.
+
+Jess was in an agony of excitement over the sudden downfall of his
+friend. He was just about to hurl himself upon Rob when a sudden
+detaining arm fell on his with a heavy pressure.
+
+"Hold on there. We want fair play."
+
+It was Merritt Crawford who spoke, and Jess sullenly dropped his
+belligerent look. Somehow, the happenings of the last few seconds had
+altered the aspect of the tenderfeet materially in the eyes of the two
+young cow-punchers.
+
+"I'll fix you," growled Clark furiously, scrambling to his feet.
+
+"Why did you let him get up?" asked Tubby, his round cheeks glowing with
+excitement.
+
+"Because I want to give him plenty of rope," said Rob, a grim look
+creeping over his usually pleasant face.
+
+A sudden furious onrush on the part of Clark prohibited further
+conversation.
+
+"Go in and eat him up, Clark!" shouted a lanky, long-legged cow-puncher,
+one of several who had been attracted by the rumpus.
+
+"Looks as if your friend had developed a sudden attack of indigestion,"
+grinned Tubby delightedly, as Rob's fist collided with the advancing
+Clark's jaw, much to the latter's astonishment.
+
+"Never seed nothing like it," commented the landlord, somewhat less
+melancholy now. "Clark's the champeen round here."
+
+"He may be when he's got a gun to back him up, but not when he has to
+fall back on his fists," retorted Merritt.
+
+"Look out!" he yelled suddenly, as the young cow-puncher, finding that
+fair methods seemed to have failed, attempted a foul blow below Rob's
+belt.
+
+But there was no need of the warning. Rob had seen the blow coming
+halfway, swiftly delivered as it was. The cowardly attempt at foul
+tactics thoroughly enraged him.
+
+"I thought Westerners fought fair," he gritted out, gripping the
+astonished cow-puncher by the wrist of the offending hand. Before Clark
+could gasp his astonishment, his other wrist was captive.
+
+Then a strange thing happened. Before any one had time to realize just
+how it occurred, Clark's body was describing a sweeping arc in the air.
+His heels rushed through the atmosphere fully five feet from the floor.
+Like the lash of a whip, his powerless body was straightened out as he
+reached the limit of the aerial curve he had described. At the same
+instant a dismayed yell broke from his pallid lips as Rob let go.
+
+Over the veranda rail, and out into the dusty road the young cow-puncher
+followed his revolver. He landed in a heap in the white dust, while Rob
+yelled triumphantly:
+
+"Now pick up your gun and profit by the lesson in manners I've given
+you."
+
+So saying, the boy calmly seated himself once more in the disputed
+chair, only a slight, quick movement of his chest betraying the great
+physical effort he had been through. After all, surprising as it had
+seemed, there was nothing very amazing about Rob's achievement. At the
+Hampton Academy athletics had always been a boast. The trick Rob had
+just put into execution he had learned from his physical instructor,
+who in his turn had picked it up from a Samurai wrestler of Japan. But
+to the cowboys, and other loungers about the Mesaville Hotel, the feat
+had been little short of marvelous.
+
+They eagerly thronged about the boy as he took his seat once more, and
+this time he remained in undisputed possession of it.
+
+"Whip-sawed, that's what Clark was," exclaimed one of the group.
+
+Another, the same tall, lanky fellow who had just been urging the young
+cow-puncher on to what he thought would be an easy victory, approached
+Rob.
+
+"Say, stranger," he asked eagerly, "will you teach me that thar
+contraption?"
+
+"Couldn't do it," rejoined Rob soberly, although a smile played about
+the corners of his lips.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because, then, you'd know as much as I do," responded Rob. The
+assemblage burst into a loud roar of laughter, in which you may be sure,
+however, there were two voices which did not join. Those two were Clark
+Jennings' and Jess Randell's. The former had just picked himself up and
+stuffed his gun in his pistol pocket. A malevolent scowl marked his face
+as he did so. Nor did Jess smooth over matters by remarking audibly:
+
+"Say, Clark, what was the matter with you?"
+
+"Chilled feet, I guess," chortled Tubby, who had overheard the remark.
+
+"Get away from me, can't you?" snarled Clark irritably, facing round on
+his well-meaning crony, "why didn't you help me out?"
+
+"Help you out--how?"
+
+"Why, trip that tenderfoot up when I rushed him."
+
+"Oh, shucks, I thought you fought fair," said Jess, a little disgusted
+in spite of himself.
+
+"So I do," snorted Clark, "when I'm winning."
+
+"Well, come on round and see to the ponies. We'll think up some way to
+get even with these grain-fed mavericks before very long," comforted
+Jess.
+
+"You bet, and in a way they won't forget, either," Clark Jennings
+promised himself, as he followed his companion to the corral.
+
+Not long after this, the boys perceived, far out on the sultry plain, a
+sudden swirl of dust.
+
+"Something coming," shouted Tubby, who, strange to say, had been the
+first to notice the approaching column of dust.
+
+"Team," briefly grunted the landlord, "did I hear you fellers say you
+was waiting for some one from the Harkness range?"
+
+"Yes, you did," said Rob.
+
+"Waal, I guess that's them now. Must have a bear-cat of a team in to
+kick up all that smother."
+
+Closer and closer grew the dust cloud, and presently, from its yellow
+swirls, emerged the heads of the leaders of an eight-mule team. Behind
+them lumbered a big, broad-tired wagon, from the bed of which a high
+seat was reared like a watch tower. By the driver's side was a long iron
+foot brake. As the team approached the bank of the sandy little dried-up
+river, where the road took a dip, the driver placed his foot on the
+brake and a loud screeching and groaning resulted, as the big wagon,
+with the hind wheels locked, slid down the far bank. As the front wheels
+thundered across the rough bridge above the thin thread of luke-warm
+water, the heads of the first mules emerged over the top of the bank
+nearest the hotel.
+
+"Mountain style," commented the long, lanky cow-puncher admiringly, as
+the driver, a tall, sun-burned lad of about Rob's age, whirled a long
+whip three or four times round his head and concluded the flourish with
+a loud "crack" as sharp and penetrating as a pistol shot.
+
+An instant later the heavy wagon and its eight, dust-choked, sweating
+mules swept up in front of the hotel porch. The driver, flinging the
+single line with which he drove to his companion, clambered from his
+lofty perch and was immediately surrounded by the three tenderfeet.
+
+"Well, you certainly come into town with a flourish of trumpets,"
+laughed Rob, after the first salutations between the Eastern boys and
+Harry Harkness, the rancher's son, had been exchanged.
+
+"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long," responded the other, who in
+order to speak had pulled down a big red handkerchief which had bundled
+up the lower part of his face and kept it dust-proof while he drove;
+"but the fact is, we had some trouble on the way. A bunch of Moquis are
+out, and----"
+
+"Indians!" gasped Tubby, with round eyes.
+
+"Yes, regular Indians," laughed Harry; "the Moquis' reservation is off
+a hundred miles or more to the northwest, near Fort Miles, but----"
+
+"They're off the reservation," cut in Tubby, proud of his knowledge.
+
+"Out fer a snake dance, I reckon," put in the long, lanky cow-puncher,
+who had been an interested listener.
+
+"Why, hello, Lone Star," exclaimed Harry. "I didn't know you were in
+town. Yes," he went on, "there's a secret valley in the Santa Catapinas
+which has been used by them for centuries for their festivals, and
+although they are supposed to be kept within the limits of the
+reservation, every once in a while a bunch of them get over here and
+hold a snake dance."
+
+"I've read about them," said Rob; "they do all kinds of weird things
+with rattlesnakes, don't they?"
+
+"Well, no white man has ever seen them--or, if he has, never lived to
+tell about it," said Harry, "so of course nobody knows exactly what they
+do. But anyhow, when we camped last night we had eight mules, and when
+we woke this morning there were only six. Jose, there--hey, Jose, wake
+up!" He prodded the Mexican who still sat on the wagon seat, with the
+end of his long whip. "Well, as I was saying, Jose trailed them and
+found them tethered in a arroyo about a mile from camp."
+
+"The Indians took them?" asked Merritt.
+
+"Yes, Jose, who's as good a trailer as he is a sleeper, found
+unmistakable tracks of Moquis. I suppose they took the mules in the
+night and then got scared at something and hitched them in the arroyo,
+meaning to come back for them."
+
+"Whereabouts did the Injuns cut into you, Harry?"
+
+A new voice had broken into the conversation. That of Clark Jennings. He
+nursed above his right eye a rapidly swelling "goose egg," marking the
+spot at which he had collided with the roadway. At his elbow was the
+faithful Jess Randell.
+
+"Why, hello, Clark, you in town, too? Every one from the Santa Catapinas
+seems to be in to-day--you, too, Jess. Well, the Indians paid us their
+little call just this side of the Salt Licks,--why?"
+
+"Oh, jes' wanted to know. Me and Jess has got to ride home that way
+to-night, for it's better riding when it's cool; and I thought I'd like
+to know whar to expect the varmints."
+
+"Well, that's the best information I can give you," said Harry, "but
+what have you been doing to your eye?"
+
+"Oh, nothing," muttered Clark, turning away, while a loud guffaw went
+up.
+
+"What's all the joke,--what is it?" asked Harry. It was soon explained,
+and the young rancher burst into a laugh.
+
+"Say, Rob, you must mean to clean the country of bad men. Trimmed Clark
+Jennings! Ho, ho, ho!"
+
+"Has he much of a reputation?" inquired Rob innocently, but with a
+twinkle in his eye.
+
+"I should say so. He won't forgive you in a hurry. He's going to be your
+neighbor, too, for a while."
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"His father owns the next ranch to us. Jess Randell is Clark's cousin,
+an orphan, you know. He lives there, too. The two are great cronies, and
+think a lot of their reputation as tough citizens. The whole bunch have
+a bad name."
+
+As the team from the Harkness ranch was tired out by the long, hard
+journey across the hot desert, it was decided that the boys should spend
+the night at the Mesaville House, and start for the ranch the next
+morning while it was cool. This would bring them into the mountains by
+dusk. Over supper they laughed and talked merrily, recalling the last
+time they had met, which was in a wet, dripping fog off the Long Island
+coast. How differently were they now situated!
+
+After the meal Merritt and Harry sat down to a game of checkers, while
+Tubby, seated in a big chair, indulged in his favorite occupation--namely,
+taking a quiet doze. As for Rob, he wandered about the little town a
+while, but found nothing to interest him. Small as Mesaville was in
+common with most towns of the same character, it boasted several low
+dens in which the cow-punchers, miners and sheepmen gambled and drank
+their hard-earned money away. From these dens, as usual, there came the
+same blasts of foolish talk and loud laughter, as their swing doors
+opened and closed. A glare of light poured from their blazing interiors
+to the quiet, moonlit desert outside.
+
+As Rob, rather sickened, turned away from this section of the town, the
+doors of one of the places swung open, and the forms of Clark Jennings
+and his crony, Jess, emerged; with them was a third figure, that of a
+tall, stoop-shouldered young man. The eyes of all three fell
+simultaneously on the figure of Rob as he walked away.
+
+"Talk of the train and you hear her whistle," grinned Jess. "There he is
+now."
+
+The companion of the two young cow-punchers nodded.
+
+"That's him, all right. I recognize him. It'll be candy to me to get
+even with him."
+
+"We can trust you, Jack?"
+
+"I'll fix him, never fear."
+
+"All right, then, we're going to start. We'll ride into town ag'in in a
+few days and fix you up."
+
+"All right. I need the money. How's Bill and Hank making out?"
+
+"Oh, doing odd jobs around the ranch. You know, Cousin Bill has turned
+out to be quite a cow-puncher; guess he rode horses back East?"
+
+"Yes, his father owned some in Hampton," rejoined the stoop-shouldered
+young man. (It will be recalled that when Bill Bender left Hampton he
+spoke of stopping a while with relatives in the West.)
+
+After a little more talk, the three bade each other good night. Soon the
+clatter of two ponies' hoofs, growing fainter and fainter in the
+distance, marked the departure from town of Clark Jennings and his
+crony. In the meantime, Rob had looked into the hotel, and finding Harry
+and Merritt still engrossed in a hotly contested fifth game, and Tubby
+snoring contentedly, had set out on another stroll. This time his
+aimless footsteps took him in the direction of the desert. By the
+railroad bridge he paused, gazing down at the moonlit water. Where the
+bridge abutments projected, the thready current of the San Pedro
+collected and formed quite a deep pool.
+
+"If this was the East, there'd be fish in there," mused Rob, when
+suddenly behind him he thought he heard a furtive footfall. He turned
+quickly. But, even as he did so, an irresistible shove was given him.
+Blindly extending his arms, Rob plunged forward down the steep
+embankment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE DESERT WATER HOLE.
+
+
+As Rob toppled forward into vacancy, he received a startling momentary
+impression of familiarity from the tones of a loud laugh which rang out
+behind him. Fortunately for him, the water at the foot of the bridge
+abutment was some six or seven feet deep, and he struck it spread-eagle
+fashion, so that beyond the shock of his sudden fall he was uninjured.
+He at once struck out for the bank. When he stood again on the dry
+ground, shaking the water from himself, he began to rack his memory for
+the recollection of where and when he had heard a similar laugh to the
+one that had sounded in his ears as he plunged forward into space. Try
+as he would, however, he could not place it, and giving up the attempt
+finally, he made his way back to the hotel.
+
+The checker players started up as the dripping figure of the Boy Scout
+leader entered the room, and naturally began to ply him with questions.
+Rob's story of the events of the preceding few minutes was soon told,
+but so far as the shedding of any light on the mystery was concerned, it
+remained as blank a puzzle as ever.
+
+"I'd like to think that I dreamed it all," said Rob, "but
+these"--wringing out his wet clothes--"won't let me."
+
+"Well, there's no doubt that you were shoved over intentionally,"
+decided Harry Harkness, "but who is there out here who would do such a
+thing?"
+
+"It might have been one of those two cow-punchers you had the row with
+this afternoon," suggested Merritt.
+
+"No. I saw Clark and Jess ride out of town a good half-hour before Rob
+could have been shoved over," said Harry.
+
+"Maybe they mistook me for some one else," suggested Rob, as the easiest
+way of disposing of the matter. Privately, though, he entertained a
+different opinion. If he could only place that laugh! But try as he
+would, he could not for the life of him recall where he had heard it
+before.
+
+Soon afterward the Boy Scouts and their ranch friend retired to bed,
+Tubby having been sufficiently aroused to make his way upstairs to their
+room. Tired out as Rob was, he sank into a deep sleep almost as soon as
+his head touched the pillow. With Tubby things were different, however.
+His nap in the chair had rendered him wakeful, and he tossed and turned
+till almost midnight before he began to grow drowsy. Just as he was
+dropping off, two persons entered the adjoining room. The partitions, as
+is usual in the West, were of the very thinnest wood, and he could
+easily hear every movement made by their neighbors.
+
+"Well, Jack," said one of the voices, evidently resuming a conversation
+that had been begun some time previously, "so you did the kid up, eh?"
+
+"Yes, sent him head first over the bank. Wish he'd broken his neck. The
+kid is one of that bunch that was responsible for my leaving Hampton."
+
+"Is that so? I don't wonder you are sore at him. Why didn't you hit him
+a good crack on the head while you were about it?"
+
+"Oh, I figured that a cold bath would do as a starter. Wait till that
+bunch gets up to the mountains. Clark and Jess and my friends, Bender
+and Handcraft, will attend to them."
+
+Tubby's brain was in a whirl. He had had no difficulty in recalling one
+of the voices,--that of the one who had spoken of sending Rob over the
+bank of the San Pedro. Who the other was he couldn't imagine, however,
+except that he was evidently a crony of the first speaker. Impulsively
+the stout youth shook Rob's shoulder, and as the other opened his eyes,
+enjoined him to silence.
+
+"Say, Rob, who do you think is in the next room?" he gasped.
+
+"I don't know, I'm sure. The emperor of China?" asked Rob in a sleepy
+voice.
+
+"Hush! don't talk so loud. It's Jack Curtiss!"
+
+"What!"
+
+"It is. I'm sure of it. He was boasting about having shoved you over the
+bank of the river."
+
+"Whatever can he be doing out here?"
+
+"Living on the allowance his father sends him, I suppose. I heard before
+we left Hampton that he was some place in the West. I guess his father
+would soon stop his allowance if he knew he was up to his old tricks.
+Mr. Curtiss thinks that Jack is studying farming."
+
+"Raising a crop of mischief, I guess," breathed Rob, in the same
+cautious undertone that the two boys had used throughout their
+conversation. "I wonder if Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft are with him?"
+
+"That reminds me. I heard him mention them. They are on some ranch up in
+the mountains--where we are going, I gathered."
+
+"That means trouble ahead," mused Rob.
+
+"Are you going to have Jack arrested?"
+
+"No, how can I prove that it was he who shoved me in? Just overhearing a
+conversation is no proof. I know now, though, why that laugh I heard
+sounded so familiar."
+
+Both boys listened for some time, but they heard no further talk from
+Jack Curtiss and his companion regarding themselves. Their talk seemed
+to be about money matters, and as well as they could gather, Jack was in
+debt to some gamblers for a large sum which he despaired of raising.
+
+"I've only got a month to get it in," they heard him say.
+
+"Well, we'll hit upon a plan, never fear," rejoined his companion.
+
+The next morning Harry Harkness was told of the happenings of the night.
+He, of course, already knew of the bold attempt of the former bully of
+Hampton Academy to kidnap one of the Boy Scouts, as related in the first
+volume of this series, and was inclined to warn the boys to be careful
+of such a dangerous character. Viewed in the cheerful light of the early
+day, however, the boys did not regard the matter so seriously. Indeed,
+they forgot all about Jack and his threats in the bustle of preparation
+for their long trip across the waste lands.
+
+Breakfast was soon disposed of, and then the boys in a body made for the
+corral. Jose had been told two hours earlier to catch up and hitch the
+mules, but the long-eared animals were still browsing at the hay pile,
+and not a vestige of Jose was to be seen when the boys emerged.
+
+"There he is in the hay," shouted Rob suddenly, pointing to two long,
+thin legs sticking out of the fodder heap.
+
+"Asleep again, the rascal," exclaimed Harry. "Come on, Rob; you lay hold
+of one leg, and I'll take the other."
+
+Both boys seized hold of a designated limb, and soon the sleepy Jose,
+expostulating loudly, was hauled out into the sunlight.
+
+"Why aren't those mules hitched?" demanded Harry.
+
+"Me go sleep," grinned the Mexican teamster apologetically, showing a
+row of white teeth.
+
+"We don't need telling that. You are always asleep, except when you're
+eating. Get busy now and hitch up."
+
+Urged thus, Jose soon had his rawhide rope circling, and in ten minutes
+had caught up the team with far more agility and skill than would have
+been suspected in such an easy-going individual.
+
+The mules were soon attached to the heavy wagon and the single line
+which guided them threaded. This manner of driving was new to the boys,
+but they were soon to find that most teamsters in the far West use only
+a single rein attached to the lead mules on the right side. The others
+follow the leader. If the driver desires to turn his team to the left,
+instead of pulling the single line, he shouts, "Haugh!" and over swings
+the team.
+
+The boys' baggage had lain at the depot all night, and accordingly the
+first stop was made there. It was soon loaded on, and then, with a loud
+cry of, "Ge-ee, Fox! Gee-ee-e, Maud!" from Jose, the lead mules swung to
+the right. Over the bridge, beneath which Rob had met his misadventure
+of the night before, thundered the heavy vehicle. Swinging in a broad
+circle, they then headed toward the south, where the Santa Catapinas,
+blue and vague, were piled like clouds on the horizon.
+
+Early as was the hour at which the start was made, however, two persons
+in Mesaville besides the hotel employees were up to see it. These were
+Jack Curtiss and the friend who had shared his room the night before.
+They peered out of the window at the four boys with eager glances.
+
+"Look them over well, Emilio," Jack urged his companion, who in the
+daylight was seen to have a swarthy skin and the cigarette-stained
+fingers of a Mexican town lounger. Emilio Aguarrdo was a half-breed
+gambler, and a thoroughly vicious type of man. In him were combined the
+vices and evil passions of two races. His thin lips curled back from his
+yellow teeth as he watched the boys, who, with shouts and laughter, were
+loading up their belongings, while Jose slept on his lofty seat.
+
+"I won't forget them, Jack," he promised, as the wagon started off, the
+long whip cracking like a gatling gun.
+
+All that morning the wagon lumbered on across the hot plains, an
+occasional jack-rabbit or coyote being the only sign of life to be seen.
+As the sun grew higher, the boys saw in the far distance the strange
+sight of the town of Mesaville, hotel and all, hanging upside down above
+the horizon. It was a mirage, as clear and puzzling as these strange
+phenomena of the desert always are.
+
+As the hours wore on, the mountains, from mere wavy outlines of blue,
+began to take on definite form. They now showed formidable, seamed and
+rugged. As well as the boys could perceive at that distance, the hills
+were covered with dark trees to their summits and intersected by dense
+masses of shadow, marking cañons and abysses. A more forbidding-looking
+range could hardly be imagined, yet in the foothills to the southeast
+there grew great savannas of succulent bunch grass on which several
+ranges of cattle roamed.
+
+The noon camp was made in the foothills near a small depression in which
+grew some scanty grass of a dried-up, melancholy hue. The wagon road was
+at some little distance from this, and as soon as a halt was made, Jose,
+at Harry's orders, took a shovel from the wagon and started for the dip
+in the foothills.
+
+"Going to dig potatoes?" asked Tubby casually, as he watched the lazy
+Mexican saunter off.
+
+"No, water," responded Harry. His serious tone precluded any possibility
+that he was joking. But the idea of water in that sterile land seemed so
+ridiculous to the boys that they burst into a laugh.
+
+"I mean it," declared Harry. "Here, you fellows, take those buckets from
+under the wagon. We carry them to water the mules. Pack them over to
+that dip and in half an hour you'll be back with them full."
+
+"Huh! guess I could carry all the water that will come out of that place
+in one hand," commented the fat boy.
+
+"Don't be rash," laughed Harry; "before long you'll take digging for
+water as a matter of course."
+
+"Wish you could dig for ice-cream sodas," muttered the fat boy absently,
+picking up a bucket and starting off after Jose. Rob and Merritt
+followed, while Harry busied himself unhitching the mules for their
+noonday rest. This done, he lighted a fire of sage-brush roots, and
+awaited the return of the boys.
+
+The first thing the boys saw Jose do when he got to the bottom of the
+dip was to lie flat on his stomach and place an ear to the ground.
+
+"He's going to sleep again," suggested Merritt.
+
+"Looks like it," agreed Rob.
+
+But this time the Mexican did not drop off into a peaceful slumber.
+Instead, he presently straightened up, and shouldering his shovel, began
+tramping off once more. The boys followed him over several dips and
+rises till at last he descended into another depression in which grew
+some scanty herbage. Here he repeated the other performance and arose
+with a grunt of satisfaction. Suddenly he began digging furiously.
+
+"Wow! he's making the dirt fly," exclaimed Tubby, as the industrious
+Mexican dug as frantically as though his life depended on it. So fast
+did the work of excavation proceed that soon quite a large hole had been
+made in the soft ground.
+
+"Pity they haven't got him down at Panama," commented Merritt dryly.
+
+Jose had paid no attention to the boys hitherto, but now he suddenly
+shouted, pointing downward into the hole: "Mira qui!"
+
+"What's that about a key?" asked Tubby.
+
+"Try to conceal your natural ignorance," rejoined Merritt, with
+withering scorn. "He said, 'Mira qui.' That means 'Look here.'"
+
+"Oh, and 'latcha-key' means open the door, I suppose," retorted the
+stout youth. "You're a fine Spanish scholar, you are."
+
+"I've a good mind to throw you into that hole," threatened Merritt.
+
+"Try it," shouted the stout youth, hopping about aggravatingly.
+
+"I will."
+
+Merritt made a rush at the irritating Tubby, who leaped provokingly
+away. But suddenly he gave utterance to a yell of dismay, as in his
+efforts to retreat he stumbled into the hole which Jose had dug. By this
+time, to Rob's astonishment, for he had been watching Jose's methods
+with interest, quite a lot of muddy water had appeared, and into this
+accumulation of moisture the stout youth fell with a resounding splash.
+
+Even the solemn Jose smiled as Tubby sputtered and splashed about in the
+pool.
+
+"Come out of that water," commanded Merritt.
+
+"Call this water?" demanded Tubby, sputtering some of it out of his
+mouth. "Ugh! it tastes more like soap suds to me."
+
+"Him alkali," grinned Jose, as Tubby scrambled out and stood, rather
+crestfallen, on the verge of the magic pool; "mucho malo."
+
+"What's 'mucho malo'?" demanded Tubby of Merritt, the self-appointed
+interpreter.
+
+"It means you're a nuisance," retorted Merritt, which reply almost
+brought on a renewal of hostilities. Rob checked them, however, by
+reminding the stout youth that the water was for drinking and not for
+bathing purposes. The boys were anxious to dip their buckets in and
+return to the wagon, but Jose told them they must wait till the water
+cleared.
+
+"Pretty soon him like glass," he said.
+
+Sure enough, after a long interval of waiting, in which there was
+nothing to do but look at the sand and the burning blue sky above it,
+the previously muddy seepage water began to take on a green hue. With a
+yell, the boys rushed forward to dip it up.
+
+But as they bent over the brink of the water hole a sudden shout from
+Jose made them look up. They echoed the Mexican's yell as they did so,
+for outlined against the sky was a startling figure.
+
+It was that of an Indian, his sinewy limbs draped in a blanket of
+gorgeous hue, and astride of a thin, active-looking calico pony. For an
+instant the piercing eyes of the red man and the white boys met, and
+then, with a strange cry, he wheeled his pony and vanished over the rim
+of the depression.
+
+"Was that an Indian?" gasped Tubby, for the figure of the red man had
+appeared and vanished so swiftly that it seemed almost as if it might
+have been a delusion.
+
+"Moqui, very bad Indian," grunted the Mexican, who seemed nervous and
+fearful all of a sudden.
+
+"Oh, I thought maybe it was a jack-in-the-box," said Tubby, with a
+cheerful grin, which froze on his face, however, as suddenly as it had
+come.
+
+The rim of the water hole was surrounded by twenty or more wild figures,
+the companions of the solitary horseman. They had appeared as if by
+magic.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+SILVER TIP APPEARS.
+
+
+The interval of silence which succeeded to the discovery that they were
+surrounded by Moquis was the most trying any of the party had ever
+known. Resistance was useless, for each of the Indians carried a rifle
+of modern make, and even had the boys been armed, they could not have
+defended themselves.
+
+"What do you want?" demanded Rob at length, of an Indian who, judging by
+his ornate feather headdress, seemed to be the chief of the party.
+
+"White boys go to mountains?" demanded the chief.
+
+"Yes. We are going to the Harkness ranch," rejoined Rob, a trifle more
+boldly, as there did not seem to be any active antagonism in the chief's
+tone.
+
+"White boys got money?"
+
+"It's a hold up!" gasped Tubby.
+
+"Say, hold your tongue for once, can't you?" snapped Merritt angrily.
+
+"Yes, we have some money. Why?" inquired Rob.
+
+"We want um."
+
+It was a direct demand, and as the boy hesitated, a grim look spread
+over the chief's face. Rob, like the others, carried most of his money
+in a belt about his waist, but each lad had a few bills in his wallet
+and some small change in his pockets.
+
+"Say, what is this--Tag Day?" demanded Tubby, as the chief, having
+solemnly taken all Rob's small change, drew up in front of the stout
+youth and extended his dirty palm.
+
+"All right," said the fat boy, hastily digging down into his pocket, as
+the red man stared steadily at him. "Here's all I've got. Take it, Chief
+What-you-may-call-um, and I hope whatever you get with it chokes you."
+
+Fortunately for Tubby, the chief did not understand this, or it might
+have fared badly with the irrepressible youth. Merritt's turn came next,
+and then Jose, with many lamentations, surrendered a few small silver
+coins.
+
+"All right. You go now," said the chief, as with a shrill, wild yell he
+dug his naked heels into his pony's sides, and the little beast plunged
+up the steep bank. Echoing his shrill cries, the other Indians joined
+him, and the body of marauders swept off across the foothills at a rapid
+pace.
+
+"So that's the noble red man, is it?" demanded Tubby. "Hum! back home
+we'd call them noble panhandlers."
+
+"What did they want the money for?" asked Rob of the Mexican, who was
+still wringing his hands over the loss of his pocket money.
+
+"Moqui's go snake dance. Moocho red liquor," explained the guide from
+across the border.
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Rob. As he spoke, his eyes fell suddenly on
+a small piece of paper the Indian chief had dropped when he rode up the
+steep side of the water hole. He picked it up and opened its folds
+carefully. It appeared to be a scrap torn from a notebook, and the boy
+stared as his eyes fell on the name "Clark Jennings, His Book."
+
+"Say, fellows, look here," he cried excitedly, as he perused some
+writing on the other side. "That sneak I gave the razzle-dazzle to
+yesterday is in this."
+
+"What, Clark Jennings?"
+
+"The same. Listen!"
+
+From the side of the paper which bore the writing Rob read as follows:
+
+"'They will be near the water hole at noon. All three have money.'"
+
+"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Tubby in a puzzled tone. "I don't
+see the connection, quite."
+
+"It's plain enough. I've heard that these Indians are placid enough if
+they are not interfered with and given money. That fellow Clark knew
+they were somewhere hereabouts--you remember he asked Harry about them
+yesterday. He and Jess Randell left Mesaville early, so as to meet them
+and bribe them to hold us up."
+
+"But can the Indians read English writing?" asked Tubby.
+
+"Yes. Most of the present generation have been to government schools and
+are comparatively well educated."
+
+"Hooray for education!" shouted Tubby. "They sure are promising
+scholars."
+
+There came a sudden shout from above.
+
+"Hey, what's the matter with you fellows, anyhow? You've been gone
+almost an hour."
+
+Harry Harkness stood at the edge of the dip, looking down at the excited
+boys.
+
+"An hour isn't the only thing that's gone," wailed Tubby; "all our
+change has gone, too."
+
+When the laugh at Tubby's whimsical way of putting it had subsided, the
+situation was explained to Harry, who agreed that there was nothing to
+be done.
+
+"We had better be pushing on as fast as possible, though," he said;
+"there's no knowing when those fellows may wake up to the fact that we
+have more money about us and come back after it."
+
+A hasty lunch was cooked and eaten, and the mules watered with a bucket
+of water each. This done, the team was once more hitched, and Jose, who
+had in the meantime dropped off to sleep again, awakened. But as the
+Mexican cracked his whip, and his long-eared charges began to move, a
+sudden surprise occurred. From a little dip ahead a horseman suddenly
+appeared and hailed the boys.
+
+He was a tall, bearded man in regulation plainsman's costume, and his
+sun-burned face was shielded by a broad sombrero. On his face was a look
+of determination and self-reliance. As the boys looked at him they felt
+that here was a man of action and character.
+
+"Hullo, strangers," he said, checking the splendid horse he rode, as the
+mules came to a stop. "Have you seen anything of any Moquis hereabout?"
+
+"Why, yes," responded Rob; "they----"
+
+"Saw us to the extent of all our small change," put in Tubby.
+
+"Mine, too!" wailed the Mexican. "Mucho malo Indiano."
+
+"What! you have been robbed by them?"
+
+"Feels that way," said Tubby, patting his empty pockets.
+
+"That's too bad," said the man. "I am Jeffries Mayberry, the Indian
+agent from the reservation. I am trying to round those fellows up
+without making a lot of trouble over it, and having the papers get hold
+of the story and print exaggerated accounts of an uprising. They are
+really harmless if they don't get hold of liquor."
+
+"Or money," put in Tubby.
+
+"Well, as far as we know, they swept off to the southeast," said Rob.
+
+"Yes. They are going to have their snake dance in the Santa Catapinas.
+Every once in a while they break out and head for there. All the
+renegade Indian rascals for miles round join them, and besides the
+dance, which is a religious ceremony, they drink and gamble. Well, I
+must be getting on, and thank you for your information."
+
+With a wave of his hat, he dug his big blunt-rowelled spurs into his
+horse's sides and was off in a cloud of dust.
+
+"I'd like to help that fellow get his Indians rounded up," said Rob; "he
+seems the right sort of a chap."
+
+"Yes, his name is well known around here," rejoined Harry, as the wagon
+moved onward once more. "He is the best Indian agent that the Moquis
+have ever had, my father says. He knows them, and can handle them at all
+ordinary times. He dislikes fuss, however, and hates to see his name in
+the papers. Otherwise, I guess, he'd have had the soldiers after those
+fellows."
+
+"I wish we had the Eagle Patrol out here," said Merritt. "We'd soon get
+after that bunch of redskins."
+
+"Well, why not?" said Harry enigmatically.
+
+"Why not what?"
+
+"Why not form a patrol out here? You know we talked about it in the
+East in the brief time we had together."
+
+"Say, that's a great idea," assented Rob.
+
+"Who could we get to join, coyotes, rattlers, and jack-rabbits?" asked
+Tubby solemnly.
+
+"Say, Tubby, this is no joking matter," protested Merritt.
+
+"I'm not joking. Never more serious in my life. A coyote would make a
+fine scout."
+
+"Yes, to run away," laughed Rob. "But seriously, Harry, could we get
+enough fellows out here to form a patrol?"
+
+"Sure; I know of a dozen who would join. We could make it a mounted
+division, and maybe we could help Mr. Mayberry round up his Moquis."
+
+"Say, fellows!" exclaimed Rob, with shining face, "that would be
+splendid!"
+
+"Maybe we'd get our money back then," grunted Tubby.
+
+"Tell you what we'll do," said Harry. "To-morrow I'll take you with me,
+Rob, and we'll ride round all the ranches where I know some boys, and
+get them to sign up. We ought to have a patrol organized in a week at
+that rate."
+
+"Put me in as a commissariat officer, will you?" asked Tubby.
+
+"That goes without saying," laughed Rob.
+
+As the wagon jolted on over the road, which grew rapidly rougher and
+rougher, the boys eagerly discussed their great plan.
+
+The foothills were now passed, and they were forging ahead through a
+deep cañon, or gorge, well wooded on its rugged sides with dark trees
+and shrubs. Here and there great patches of slablike rock cropped
+through the soil and showed nakedly among the vegetation. All at once
+Rob gave a shout and pointed up the hillside at one of these "islands"
+of rock.
+
+"Look, look!" he shouted. "Something moved up there."
+
+"Something moved," echoed the rest, Indians being the "something"
+uppermost in every mind.
+
+"Indians?" gasped Tubby.
+
+"No; at least, I don't think so. It was some animal--a huge beast, it
+seemed to be."
+
+As he spoke there came a crashing of brush far up on the hillside, and
+every one in the party, even the sleepy Jose, gave vent to a perfect
+yell of amazement. On one of the rock shelves far above them was poised
+the massive form of an immense bear. His huge body showed blackly
+against the sunset-reddened shelf on which he stood. With the exception
+of one spot of white on his great chest, he was almost black.
+
+"Silver Tip!" shouted Harry Harkness, too excited even to remember his
+rifle, which lay in the bottom of the wagon.
+
+As he uttered the exclamation, the great ragged brute gave a snort of
+apparent disdain and clumsily lumbered off into the darker shadows. The
+next instant he was gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+AT THE HARKNESS RANCH.
+
+
+"Silver Tip!" echoed Rob, as the immense monarch of the Arizona forest
+crashed his way off through the undergrowth. "Well, when you told us
+about him on the steamer, you didn't exaggerate his size. He's as big as
+a pony."
+
+"Plenty of bear steaks on him," remarked Tubby judiciously.
+
+"I guess you'd find them well seasoned with lead," laughed Harry. "Every
+hunter in this part of the country has shot at Silver Tip, and plenty of
+them have hit him, but he always managed to get away. The Indians and
+the Mexicans are scared of him. They think he is not a bear at all, but
+some sort of demon in animal form. Eh, Jose?"
+
+"Silvree Teep mucho malo bear," grunted the Mexican. "Only can kill with
+silver bullet."
+
+"What do you think of that," laughed Harry. "But our hunters have wasted
+too many lead bullets on old Silver Tip to try him with silver ones. But
+in spite of his wonderful good fortune hitherto, that bear's day will
+come."
+
+"Like a dog's," commented Tubby. "You know they say every dog has his
+day--I guess it's the same way with that old sockdolliger."
+
+"That's so, I guess," rejoined Harry.
+
+Soon afterward they clattered and rumbled down a steep grade leading
+from the cañon into a wooded, green dip in the foothills. Before them
+suddenly spread out the vista of apparently illimitable pasture grounds,
+dotted with feeding cattle. In the foreground, half hidden by big
+cotton-wood trees, and overtopped by a windmill and water tank, stood a
+long, low ranch house, with numerous outbuildings and corrals about it.
+
+"That's the range," said Harry, pointing. And as the boys broke into an
+admiring chorus, the mules plunged forward into a brisk trot. In a short
+time the outer gate was reached, and opened by dint of pulling a hanging
+contrivance which worked on a system of levers, that opened and closed
+the gate at the will of whoever was entering or leaving, without
+obliging them to dismount.
+
+Around the bunkhouse stood a group of cowboys in leather chapareros and
+rough blue shirts, awaiting the call to supper in the low, red-painted
+cook-house. Some of them were gathered about a tin basin, removing the
+grime of the day. In a large corral were their ponies, browsing on a
+railed-off stack of grain hay, and occasionally kicking and biting and
+squealing, as some fractious soul among them instigated a fight.
+
+Suddenly a door in the ranch house opened, and a figure, which the boys
+recognized as that of Mr. Harkness, emerged. His hands were extended in
+a hearty welcome, and a smile wreathed his bronzed features.
+
+"Hulloa, boys!" he hailed. "Welcome to the Harkness ranch."
+
+The boys broke into a cheer, and leaping from the wagon, ran forward to
+greet their kind-hearted host, whom they had last met on the deck of a
+stranded steamer on the Long Island shoals.
+
+After the first chorus of greetings and questions had passed, Mr.
+Harkness inquired what had delayed them.
+
+"Indians," rejoined Harry. "They tried to steal mules going down, and
+they robbed the boys here of their small change on their way up."
+
+The face of the rancher grew graver.
+
+In response to his questions, Rob had soon placed him in possession of
+the facts surrounding the appearance of the Moquis at the water hole and
+the subsequent events.
+
+"We shall have to keep a sharp eye on the cattle, then," he said
+soberly. "I've got a bunch over on the far range, right up in the
+foothills. If these gentry get hungry they are likely to make a raid on
+them, or they may even do it out of pure wantonness."
+
+"Yes, it wouldn't be the first time," said Harry. "By the way, pop, we
+met Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, on the way up. He's after them."
+
+"That's bad," gravely commented the rancher.
+
+"Bad!" repeated Harry. "Why, dad, I've heard you yourself say that he
+was the best Indian agent you ever knew."
+
+"So he is, in a sense. But he is too kind-hearted. What those renegade
+rascals need is a file of soldiers with fixed bayonets and a burning
+desire to use them. However, come in, boys. Jose, wake up and put those
+trunks off. Get two men to help you bring them into the house. Come in,
+boys, and make yourselves at home in a rancher's shanty."
+
+Mr. Harkness may have called it a shanty, but to the boys' eyes there
+had seldom been presented a more attractive interior than that of the
+Harkness ranch house. The furniture was dark and heavy, and the walls
+were hung with trophies of the hunt. Bright-colored Navajo rugs were all
+about, lending a brilliant dash of brightness to the dark woods and
+walls. At one end of the room was a huge open fireplace, which was now
+filled with fresh green boughs.
+
+"Why--why, it's great!" exclaimed Rob, glancing about him admiringly.
+
+"Glad you like it," said the rancher, evidently well pleased at the
+boy's pleasure. "Those heads there are all the tale of my rifle."
+
+"The collection is only lacking in one thing--a single item," commented
+Rob.
+
+"Which is----"
+
+"The head of Silver Tip, the giant grizzly."
+
+"You know about him, then?" Mr. Harkness seemed much surprised. At the
+time of his leaving the stranded ship he had not overheard the
+conversation between his son and the Boy Scouts.
+
+"We've seen him," put in Tubby, nodding his head very sagely.
+
+Then of course the story of their glimpse of the monster had to come
+out.
+
+"It is unusual for Silver Tip to be about here at this time of year,"
+commented Mr. Harkness. "He usually does not visit us till later. That's
+an additional peril to the cattle."
+
+"How is that?" inquired Rob.
+
+"In two ways. In the first place, Silver Tip is what we call a rogue
+grizzly. He lives all alone, hunts by himself, and has nothing to do
+with any others of his kind. He is as cruel, wantonly so, as he is
+formidable. For instance, last winter he killed fifty or more head of
+steers just for the sheer love of killing. Then, too, he is dangerous in
+another way. It takes very little to stampede a band of cattle. I have
+seen them started by a jack-rabbit leaping up suddenly from the brush.
+The sight of such an appalling monster as Silver Tip would be sure to
+start them off. No, I certainly don't like to hear that he is about."
+
+Not long after this remark the announcement of supper put an end to
+further discussion of Silver Tip and his ways. Then and there Rob
+determined in his own mind that, if it were possible, the skin of that
+inaccessible monster would journey East with him when he returned.
+Absurd as the idea seemed, of him, an Eastern boy, green in the ways of
+the West, winning such a trophy, still Rob could not help dwelling on
+it. After the meal Mr. Harkness left the house for the bunkhouse, to
+give some orders to the night-riding cow-punchers. The news of the near
+neighborhood of the Moquis had made him nervous and unsettled.
+
+The evening passed away in further discussion among the boys of the
+proposed mounted patrol of Boy Scouts, and before they knew it, ten
+o'clock had arrived. Pretty well fatigued by the events of the day, they
+were not unwilling to seek their beds, which were situated in three
+small upper rooms, directly above the big main living room.
+
+Rob was just dropping off into unconsciousness when he heard a
+clattering of hoofs outside. Somebody had ridden up to the ranch house
+at full speed.
+
+"Who is it?" he heard asked in Mr. Harkness's voice.
+
+"It's me--Pete Bell," an excited voice rejoined, evidently that of the
+horseman who had just arrived.
+
+"Well, Pete, what is it?" inquired the voice of Mr. Harkness once more.
+
+"Why, sir, you know I was one of the bunch you sent to the far pasture
+to-night."
+
+"Yes, yes! Go on, man! What is it--the Indians?"
+
+"No, sir, no Indians. But, sir, we've seen it again."
+
+"What, that foolish ghost-story thing! Haven't you fellows got over
+harping on that yet?"
+
+"It ain't imagination, Mr. Harkness, as you seem to think," Rob heard
+the cow-puncher protest. "I seen it with these eyes as plain as I see
+you now. It come out on the cliff where the old cave dwellings are, and
+we saw it wring its hands a few times and then vanish just like it's
+always done before."
+
+"Nonsense, Pete," replied the hard-headed rancher. "I thought you knew
+better than to take stock in ghost stories."
+
+"So I do, sir; but when you see the ghost itself, that's getting close
+to home."
+
+"Well, get back to the pasture now, Pete, and I'll guarantee the ghost
+won't bother you any more. Come on, get some color in your face. You are
+chattering like a child."
+
+"Won't you send somebody back with me, sir? That thing ought to be
+looked into."
+
+"Nonsense! I wouldn't waste time, men or thought on such rubbish. If you
+get track of any Indians, let me know, but don't bother me with any
+ghost stories. Now be off!"
+
+"Y-y-yes, sir," said the cow-puncher obediently, but Rob noted that his
+pony didn't travel back toward the far pasture as fast as it had come
+away from it.
+
+"So," thought Rob to himself, "there are haunted cliff dwellings near
+here, as well as a rogue grizzly and a bunch of bad Indians. Well, it
+looks as if we had fallen into an ideal spot for Boy Scouts."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER."
+
+
+The next morning before breakfast Rob recounted to his chums the
+conversation he had overheard the night before. The story of the ghost
+of the ancient cliff dwellings was, it appeared, no new thing on the
+Harkness ranch, which accounted for its owner's apathy in regard to it.
+Successive batches of cow-punchers doing duty in the far pasture at
+night professed to have seen the grisly object on its nightly rounds,
+but nobody had ever had the courage to investigate it.
+
+After the morning meal had been dispatched, Mr. Harkness announced that
+he expected to be busied about the ranch for the morning.
+
+"But, Harry, you take the boys down to the corral," he said, "and have
+one of the men catch up some horses for them. You boys know best the
+kind of stock you want, so I'll let you choose them."
+
+The boys thanked him, and a few moments afterward he left the room. A
+short time later he galloped off to make a round of the different
+sections of the range and to prosecute inquiries about the renegade
+Moquis.
+
+The corral was, as was usually the case, full of ponies of all colors
+and grades of disposition, from mild beasts to fiery, half-broken
+bronchos. As the boys neared the enclosure, a stout little cowboy in a
+huge hairy pair of "chaps" approached them, airily swinging a lariat.
+His eyes opened and shut as rapidly as a loose shutter slat in a breeze.
+Cowboys have nick-names for everybody. His was of course "Blinky."
+
+"Good mornin', Master Harry. Want some cattle this a. m.?" he inquired.
+
+"Yes, Blinky. Have you got some good ones caught up?"
+
+"Why, yes, you can have White Eye, and what kind of stock does your
+friends fancy?"
+
+There was a twinkle in Blinky's fidgety optics as he asked this, for
+the boys, although they had donned regular ranch clothes, still bore
+about them that mysterious air which marks a "tenderfoot," as if they
+bore a brand.
+
+"How about you, Rob?" asked Harry, also smiling slightly. "Want a bronc,
+or something more on the rocking-horse style?"
+
+Now, although Rob could ride fairly well, and both Tubby and Merritt had
+had some practice on horseback, none of the boys were what might be
+called rough riders. But something in Blinky's tone and Harry's covert
+smile aroused all Rob's fighting blood.
+
+"Oh, I want something with some life in it," he said boldly.
+
+"Um-hum! The same will do for me, but not _too_ much life, if you
+please," chimed in Tubby, somewhat dubiously.
+
+"Anything I don't need to use spurs on," ordered Merritt, following up
+the general spirit.
+
+"All right, young fellers," said the cow-puncher, opening the corral
+gate. "Come on in while I catch 'em up for you."
+
+The instant the rawhide began whirling about Blinky's head the ponies
+evidently realized that something was up, for they began a wild race
+round and round the corral, heads up and heels lashing out right and
+left. The three tenderfeet regarded this exhibition with some
+apprehension, but they were too game to say anything.
+
+"I'll rope my own," said Harry, picking up a lariat which hung coiled
+over a snubbing post near the gate. The ranch boy stood by the post,
+leisurely whirling his rawhide and just keeping the loop open till a
+small bay pony, with a big patch of white round each eye, came plunging
+by with the rest of the stampede. The lariat suddenly became imbued with
+life. Faster it whirled and faster, the loop finally sailing through the
+air gracefully and landing in a rawhide necklace round White Eye's neck.
+
+At almost the same instant that White Eye became a captive, Blinky let
+his loop go, and roped a small, active buckskin pony which, as soon as
+it felt the loop on its neck, laid back its ears and began squealing and
+bucking viciously.
+
+"I guess that's your pony, Rob," said Tubby generously, as the
+cow-puncher drew the struggling little animal up to the snubbing post,
+and tying him there, went into the barn for a saddle.
+
+"If you are in any hurry, you can have him," volunteered Rob.
+
+"No, I guess I can wait. How about you, Merritt?"
+
+"Same here, I'm in no hurry."
+
+"Well," thought Rob, "I'm in for it now, and if that bronc doesn't buck
+me into the middle of next week, I'm lucky."
+
+After more struggles, the bridle and saddle were forced on the buckskin,
+and Blinky cast him loose, still maintaining a grip on the bridle,
+however.
+
+"All aboard!" he said, with a grin in Rob's direction.
+
+Feeling anything but as confident as he looked, Rob boldly put his foot
+in the heavy wooden stirrup with its big leather tapadero covering, and
+swung into the saddle. Hardly had he touched it when a strange thing
+happened. The boy felt as if an explosion must have occurred directly
+beneath him, and he was being shot skyward by it. The next instant the
+sensation changed, and as the broncho struck the hard ground of the
+corral, all four legs as stiff as drum sticks, Rob felt as if every bone
+in his body was in process of dislocation.
+
+"Stick to her, boy! Yow-ee-ee!"
+
+Blinky, roaring with laughter, shouted the advice. At this moment, too,
+just when Rob would much rather not have had any spectators about,
+several cow-punchers appeared as if by magic, and perching themselves on
+the corral rails, settled down to enjoy the spectacle.
+
+"Whoop!" they yelled. "That's a regular steamboat bucker."
+
+"Go on, boy! Grip her!"
+
+"Don't go to leather!"
+
+These and a hundred other excited exclamations were borne dimly to Rob's
+ears as the buckskin threshed about, trying in vain to rid itself of the
+troublesome boy. How he did it Rob never knew, but he stuck like a
+cockle-burr, and that without "going to leather," or, in other words,
+gripping any part of the saddle. He must have been a born rider to stand
+the antics of the maddened cayuse as he did. One second the little
+brute, tiring of bucking, would rear backward as if it must overbalance,
+and the next it would be fairly standing on its head. Once it lay down
+and tried to roll over, but the high horn of the saddle prevented this.
+As it collapsed to the ground, Rob skillfully slipped off, and when it
+struggled upon its feet again, the boy was standing over it and was as
+firmly in his seat as ever by the time the animal was ready for a new
+performance.
+
+All at once the buckskin made a mad rush for the corral fence. It was
+five feet in height, and Rob turned sick as he faced what seemed
+inevitable disaster.
+
+The yells of the cowboys, however, made him determined to stick it out.
+
+"I've stood it all this time. I'll stay with it if it kills me," thought
+the boy.
+
+The next instant the little broncho rose at the fence. The bars rose in
+front like an impassable wall.
+
+"He'll never make it," was the thought that flashed through Rob's head.
+
+But even as the fear of a direful crash flashed through his mind, the
+active little animal he bestrode had cleared the barrier, its hind hoofs
+just splintering the upper edge of the top rail. The buckskin alighted
+on the other side, trembling and sweating, with expanded nostrils and
+heaving flanks, but its ears were no longer back, nor did its eyes show
+white. The broncho seemed to have realized that it had played its trump
+card and lost.
+
+"Get up!" cried Rob, kicking the shivering pony in the sides.
+
+Meekly the little buckskin obeyed the rein, and Rob rode it back toward
+the corral gate--a conquered animal. From that time on the buckskin
+owned Rob as its master, and a better animal never bore saddle. As the
+cow-punchers burst into a loud chorus of admiring yells, wrung from them
+by the plucky exhibition, Rob took off his hat and waved it three times
+round his head. For the life of him, he could not have abstained from
+this little bit of braggadocio.
+
+"Yip-ee!" he yelled.
+
+"Good for you!" shouted Harry. "It was a mean trick of Blinky, and I was
+going to get him in a lot of trouble for it, but--all's well that ends
+well."
+
+"Say, you were fooling all of us. You must have been out with a Wild
+West show," exclaimed Blinky admiringly, as Rob patted the wet shoulder
+of the conquered buckskin.
+
+"I'm glad I could stick on," declared Rob modestly.
+
+"Stick on!" echoed another cow-puncher. "Why, you're a broncho buster,
+boy!"
+
+"Well, I've had enough of it to last me for a long time," laughed Rob.
+
+Two other ponies were soon caught and saddled, and much to the delight
+of Tubby and Merritt, they found that the cow-puncher's love of fun had
+been worked off when Rob was given the buckskin, and that they were each
+provided with mounts that tried no such tricks as standing on their
+heads.
+
+"Now, then, come on," said Harry, when all were mounted. "We've got a
+big round to make. The first ranch we'll head for will be Tom Simmons's.
+He and his two brothers will join, I'm sure. After that we'll finish up
+the others and issue a call for a meeting."
+
+The remainder of the day was spent in the saddle, with a brief stop for
+a noonday dinner at the Simmons ranch. By the end of the day the Boy
+Scouts' list contained ten names, which were as follows: Tom, Jack and
+Bill Simmons, Eph and Sam Ingalls, Henry Randolph, Charley and Frank
+Price, Silas Lamb and Jeb Cotton.
+
+All the would-be scouts had been ordered to report, three days from the
+day of their signing on, at the Harkness ranch. In the meantime the boys
+wrote to Eastern headquarters for organization papers, which, as Rob and
+his companions were already so well known, they anticipated no
+difficulty in receiving without delay, which, indeed, proved to be the
+case. Rob had, meanwhile, received a letter from Hampton which reported
+the successful formation of another patrol in that village where the
+famous Eagles first saw the light.
+
+The interval between the call for the meeting and the meeting itself the
+boys put in in practicing riding and shooting. As they all three were
+familiar with the rifle and revolver, even that brief practice made them
+fairly expert with firearms and their riding improved every day.
+
+Mr. Harkness and Mr. Simmons had consented to act as Scout Masters, and
+were present at the first meeting of the organization. Rob, on account
+of his experience as leader of the Eagle Patrol, was voted in as leader,
+with Merritt and Harry as corporals. Tubby was appointed a sort of drill
+master and instructor to the new scouts. This done, they all dispersed,
+subject to immediate call.
+
+As the ranches of Mr. Harkness and his neighbors, though separated
+widely by actual distance, were each joined by telephone, it was decided
+that it would be an easy matter to assemble the scouts at a given
+rendezvous. The opportunity to test this came sooner than any of the
+boys expected. One afternoon, about a week after the formation meeting,
+during which interval Tubby had held two drill nights, a cow-puncher on
+a sweat-covered horse galloped into the corral. Slipping off his
+exhausted animal, he dashed at top speed toward the house.
+
+"The cattle in the far pasture have stampeded," he panted, bursting into
+the rancher's office, "and are headed for the Graveyard Cliffs!"
+
+"Boys, boys!" shouted Mr. Harkness, hastily springing up from his
+account books and jamming a sombrero on his head. "Here's a chance to
+show your boy scouts some action. Here, you, Blinky, saddle my horse and
+the boys' animals! Sharp work now! There's not a moment to lose! We must
+head them off!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE.
+
+
+Such a scene of confusion, hurry and mad rushing about of men and horses
+as ensued, following the first shout of the alarm, the boys had never
+witnessed. Cow-punchers staggered about under the burden of heavy
+Mexican saddles. They tried to buckle on spurs and saddle and bridle
+their wild little horses all at the same time. But confused as the whole
+affair looked to an uninitiated spectator, there was system underlying
+it all. Each man knew what was required of him.
+
+At last all was ready. The last revolver was thrust into the last
+holster, and the last cinch was tightened round the belly of the last
+expostulating pony. Mr. Harkness, mounted on a powerful bay horse
+somewhat heavier than the others, rapidly explained to the punchers what
+had occurred. The cattle were stampeding on the far pasture. Their
+course led direct for the Graveyard Cliffs, a series of precipitous
+bluffs over which, in the past, many stampeding steers had fallen to
+their death.
+
+Fortunately, the steers had to take a round-about way, owing to various
+obstructions. The distance to be traversed by the men, cutting off every
+inch possible, was about five miles. It had to be covered in less than
+half an hour. No wonder the cow-punchers looked to their cinches and
+other harness details.
+
+Amid a wild yell from the throats of the score of cowboys who had been
+about the ranch when the summons was first given, the cavalcade swept
+forward.
+
+"Wow! this is riding with a vengeance," shouted Rob, above the roar of
+hoofs, in Harry's ear.
+
+"S-s-s-say!" sputtered Tubby, "I hope my horse doesn't stumble."
+
+Suddenly a voice close at hand struck in. It was one of the cow-punchers
+shouting to another.
+
+"Remember the last stampede, when Grizzly Sam was trampled?"
+
+"You bet I do. His pony's foot stuck in a gopher hole, and the whole
+stampede came lambasting on top of him."
+
+The boys began to look rather serious. Apparently they were off on a
+more dangerous errand than they had bargained for. It was too late to
+draw out now, however, and, anyhow, not one of them would, for this
+would have shown "the white feather."
+
+"Did you give the alarm to the rest of the boys?" asked Rob of Harry,
+after an interval of silence among the boys.
+
+"Yes. I only had time to call Simmons's place, but they'll get the
+others. Simmons's place is not far from the Graveyard Cliffs, and the
+boys will be there ahead of us, likely."
+
+"How about the others?"
+
+"They have to come from greater distances. They may not arrive till it's
+all over."
+
+It was impossible to see any of their surroundings in the thick cloud of
+dust. All about them, as far as the eye could penetrate the dense
+smother, were straining ponies and shouting cowboys.
+
+"How can we tell when we get to the place?" asked Tubby.
+
+"My father is riding up ahead," rejoined Harry; "that big bay of his can
+make two feet to a pony's one. He'll call a halt when we get there."
+
+In the meantime a rumor had been passed from mouth to mouth among the
+cow-punchers. Moquis had been seen near the far pasture the night
+before, and open accusations were made that the renegades had started
+the stampede so as to be able to make a feast off the dead cattle in
+case they swept over the cliffs.
+
+"Mr. Mayberry hasn't succeeded in rounding them up yet, then," said Rob.
+
+"No," rejoined Harry, "and I heard one of the punchers say yesterday
+that Indians for miles around are coming into the mountains. I guess
+they won't disperse till after the snake dance."
+
+Suddenly a wild yell from up in front caused them to halt.
+
+"Got there, I reckon," uttered one of the cowboys. As he spoke there was
+but one question in every mind.
+
+"Were they in time?"
+
+As the dust cloud settled, and they were able to make out their
+surroundings, the boys found that they had come to halt on a sort of
+plateau. Just beyond this was a sheer drop, as if a great hunk had been
+cut out of the ground. This drop--which was fully sixty feet
+deep,--formed the dreaded Graveyard Cliff, so called, although, as will
+be clear from our description, it was more properly a deep, narrow
+gulch.
+
+The distance across the yawning crack in the plateau--which was
+undoubtedly of volcanic origin--varied from a hundred feet or more to
+fifteen, and even less. A queerer place the boys had never seen.
+
+But they had little time to gaze about them. Blinky, who was one of the
+crowd of stampede arresters, gave a sudden shout as they came to a
+halt.
+
+"Hark!"
+
+From far off came a sound that, to the boys, resembled nothing so much
+as distant thunder. But unlike thunder, instead of ceasing, it grew
+steadily in volume.
+
+"Here they come!" shouted Mr. Harkness, as the advancing roar grew
+louder. The solid earth beneath the boys' feet seemed to shake as the
+stampede swept toward them.
+
+Suddenly, a mile or more off, a dark cloud grew and grew until it spread
+half across the blue sky, wiping it out.
+
+"They raise as much dust as a tornado," exclaimed Blinky. "Pesky
+critters! I'd like to get a shot at the Moquis what started them."
+
+But it was no time to exchange remarks. The face of each man in that
+little band was grave, and he appeared to be mustering every ounce of
+courage in his body for the struggle that was to come.
+
+To the boys, as to the men, the situation was clear enough. Across the
+plateau the stampeding cattle were thundering, headed straight for the
+Graveyard Cliffs. Behind them, like a mighty wall, rose the sheer face
+of a precipice where a bold peak of the range soared upward. Between
+this wall and the ominously named gorge was the little band of horsemen.
+They faced the problem of turning the stampede or being swept with it
+into the jaws of the deep, narrow gulch. Small wonder that the bravest
+of them felt his heart beat a little quicker as the cattle rushed on.
+
+Suddenly Mr. Harkness espied the boys.
+
+"You boys go back!" he shouted sharply. "I should never have let you
+come. This is too dangerous for you."
+
+"Why, dad, we'll be all right. Let us stay and see it out," protested
+Harry.
+
+"Go back at once, boy," said Mr. Harkness sternly. "You don't know the
+danger."
+
+There was no disobeying the stern command, and the boys, all of them
+with the exception of Tubby, regretting the necessity, turned their
+ponies away. The stout youth was inwardly much gratified at the idea of
+avoiding the stampede.
+
+"Beefsteak is all very fine," he said to himself, "but I like it inside,
+and not on top of me, at the bottom of a gulch."
+
+As the boys wheeled their mounts and separated from the main body of the
+cow-punchers, three other mounted figures swept toward them with wild
+yells. The newcomers were the three Simmons brothers, the recruits to
+the Boy Scouts. With them, and close behind, came Charley and Frank
+Price and Jeb Cotton. All had ridden post haste to the spot on receipt
+of the hastily 'phoned message from headquarters.
+
+Each boy gave the secret salute of the scouts as he drew rein, and
+awaited orders. A regular howl of disappointment went up when they
+learned that they had been ordered off "the firing line," so to speak.
+
+"It's a shame," growled Tom Simmons.
+
+"That's what," assented Jeb Cotton, trying to quiet his little calico
+pony, which was dancing about, scenting the excitement in the air.
+Indeed, all the animals seemed to have caught the infection, and were
+prancing about, almost unmanageable. Perhaps the increasing thunder of
+the hoofs of the advancing stampede had something to do with it.
+
+"Well, what are we to do?" demanded Frank Price.
+
+"Stay here and wait for a chance to help if we see it," said Rob.
+
+"Oh, pshaw! They're busy. They won't see us. Let's slip in while they're
+not looking," urged Bill Simmons.
+
+"The first duty of a Boy Scout is to obey orders," said Harry Harkness
+decisively.
+
+"It's mighty hard to sit here doing nothing, though," grumbled Frank
+Price.
+
+"That's what our soldiers had to do in many a battle," his brother
+Charley reminded him.
+
+"That's so. I guess we'll have to be patient."
+
+And now, under the direction of Mr. Harkness, the cattlemen spread out
+in a long line, so arranged as to be capable of sweeping across the
+vanguard of the cattle in a compact skirmish line rank. Each puncher
+had his gun ready for action, and at the word from Mr. Harkness they
+rode toward the approaching stampede at a quick lope.
+
+Up till now the stampede had not been visible. Only the signs of its
+approach were manifest. Suddenly, however, over the crest of a little
+rise, there swept into view an appalling spectacle. Hundreds of
+fear-crazed cattle, bellowing as they raced forward, and clashing their
+horns together with a sharp sound, formed the vanguard. Behind them came
+a huddled mass, goring and trampling each other in their terror.
+
+The boys' faces paled as they watched.
+
+"Yow-yow-yow-eee-ee-e!"
+
+The yells burst from the cattlemen's throats above the noise of the
+stampede.
+
+Bang! Bang! Bang!
+
+A score of revolver shots crackled as the line swept forward and rode at
+full gallop right across the faces of the leaders of the mad rush. It
+was terribly risky work. The slightest stumble would have meant death.
+At the head of his cow-punchers, like a general leading his forces,
+rode Mr. Harkness on his big bay.
+
+Clear across the front of the line the cow-punchers swept without
+appreciably diminishing the speed of the onrush.
+
+A second time they tried the daring tactics. This time they succeeded in
+checking the cattle a little, but only a bare two hundred yards remained
+between the leaders and the edge of the Graveyard. In this space
+galloped the cow-punchers. Could they stop the advance in time to save
+themselves from a terrible death?
+
+"Father! Father!" shouted Harry, in his painful excitement standing up
+in his stirrups.
+
+The boys felt a great sympathy for the rancher's son. If the cattle were
+not stopped in the next few minutes a terrible death seemed certain to
+overtake the brave man and his helpers.
+
+"Fire at 'em!" yelled Mr. Harkness suddenly.
+
+This was a desperate last resort. Hitherto, the cow-punchers had been
+firing in the air. Now, however, they leveled their revolvers at the
+oncoming herd.
+
+Bang! Bang! Bang!
+
+Several of the leaders crumpled up and fell to the ground, mortally
+wounded. In a second they were trampled under foot, but suddenly, after
+twenty or more had been thus slaughtered, the band began to waver. At
+last, with mad bellows, and amid frantic yells from the cowboys, their
+ranks broke and wavered.
+
+"Yip-yip-u-ee-ee!"
+
+The triumphant shrieks of the cowboys rang out as the disorganized herd
+split up.
+
+"Wow! They've turned 'em!" shouted Harry. "Hooray!"
+
+The next instant his shout of delight changed to a yell of dismay, and
+he turned his pony sharply.
+
+"Come on, Rob!" he cried. "We've got to get out of here!"
+
+"They're coming this way!" yelled Tubby, spurring his pony and galloping
+off at top speed, the others following him. As Rob's pony jumped
+forward, however, it stumbled and threw the boy headlong. He kept his
+hold of the reins, fortunately, and was up on its back in a trice. But
+the second's delay had been fatal.
+
+Sweeping toward the boy, from two points of the compass, were two
+sections of disorganized stampede. The cattle were trying, according to
+their instinct, to reunite.
+
+"I'm hemmed in," was Rob's thought.
+
+He switched rapidly round to a quarter where there seemed a chance of
+escape, but already it had been closed. The boy was on a sort of island.
+Behind him was the gorge, deep and terrible. In front of him on two
+sides, death was closing in on the wings of the wind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+HEMMED IN BY THE HERD.
+
+
+There was little time to think, and hardly more for action. A more
+perfect trap of its kind than that in which Rob was caught could not
+have been devised by the utmost ingenuity.
+
+Shouts of alarm went up from the cow-punchers, and from the little group
+of Boy Scouts as they saw his danger. But not one of those horrified
+onlookers could do more than sit powerless. All about them, like waves
+shattered against a mighty rock, surged the broken stampede, with wild
+cattle rushing hither and thither. They themselves were, in fact, by no
+means out of danger.
+
+With an angry bellow, the leader of the advancing left flank of cattle
+lowered his head. His mighty horns glistened like sharpened sabres.
+Straight at the boy he rushed, while his companions followed his
+example.
+
+An involuntary groan burst from the watchers. It seemed as if Rob's doom
+was sealed. But suddenly something happened that they still talk about
+in that part of the country.
+
+Quick as thought the boy decided that there was only one course open to
+him. Advance he could not. Retreat, on the other hand, seemed barred by
+the gulch. Yet on the gulch side of the beleaguered boy lay the only
+path.
+
+Foolhardy as the attempt appeared, Rob decided that the risk must be
+taken.
+
+A shout burst from the lips of the powerless onlookers as they realized
+what the boy meant to do.
+
+Leap the gulch on his pony!
+
+A run, or take-off, of some fifty feet lay between Rob and the dark
+crack in the earth that was the gulch. Short as was the distance, from
+what Rob knew of the active little beast he bestrode, he believed he
+could do it. He raised his heavy quirt above the pony's trembling
+flanks.
+
+Crack!
+
+The lash descended, cutting a broad wale on the buckskin's back. He gave
+a squeal of rage and bounded forward.
+
+"Yip-yip!" yelled Rob.
+
+Out of the peril of the situation a spirit of recklessness seemed to
+have descended upon him. He could have shouted aloud as he felt the
+active bounds of the cayuse. One hurried glance at the awful gap before
+him gave the boy a rough estimate of its width--ten feet or more. A
+tremendous leap for a pony. But it must be done.
+
+"Yip-yip," yelled Rob once more, as he dug his spurs in deep, and the
+maddened pony gave one tremendous bound that brought it right to the
+edge of the pit.
+
+[Illustration: Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the leap.]
+
+For one sickening instant it paused, and Rob felt the chill fear of
+death sweep over him. Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the
+leap. Like steel springs its tough muscles rebounded, and the yelling,
+shrieking cow-punchers saw a buckskin body, surmounted by a cheering
+boy, give a great leap upward and--alight safe on the farther side of
+the chasm.
+
+Cheer after cheer went up, while Rob waved his hat exultantly and yelled
+back at his friends.
+
+Nothing like that leap for life had ever been witnessed before.
+
+The amazed cattle, cheated of their prey, wavered, and the leaders tried
+in vain to check themselves. Desperately they dug their forefeet into
+the edge of the gulch, but the treacherous lip of the chasm gave under
+their weight, and with a roar and rattle, a cloud of dust and a
+despairing bellow, four of them shot over the edge and vanished.
+
+Rob could not repress a shudder as he patted his buckskin, and realized
+that but for the little steed's noble effort he might have shared the
+fate of the dumb brutes.
+
+Before long the cow-punchers had the rest of the steers rounded up, and
+ready to be driven back to the Far Pasture. Many were the threats
+breathed against the Moquis as they did so. The cattle, as is the nature
+of these half-wild brutes, having had their run out, seemed inclined to
+collapse from fatigue. As long as unreasoning terror held sway among
+them they had galloped tirelessly, but now their legs shook under them
+and they quivered and drooped pitifully. But the cattlemen showed them
+no mercy. With loud yells and popping of revolvers and cracking of
+quirts, they rode round them, getting them together into a compact mass.
+
+While all this was going on, Rob had ridden his buckskin along the edge
+of the gulch. Some two miles below the place where his leap had been
+made, he found a spot which seemed favorable for crossing. The pony slid
+down one bank on its haunches and clambered up the other like a cat. As
+the boy traversed the bottom of the Graveyard, he noticed a peculiarly
+offensive odor. The smell which offended his nostrils, he found, sprang
+from the carcasses of the cattle which had at various times fallen into
+the gulch, above where he was crossing.
+
+"Wonder why they don't put up a fence here," thought the boy.
+
+He did not learn till afterward that that very thing had been done, but
+every time a freshet occurred in the mountains a part of the gulch caved
+away, carrying with it the fence and all. It had thus grown to be less
+of an expense to the ranchmen to lose a few cattle every season than to
+erect new fences constantly.
+
+By the time Rob rejoined his friends, the cattle were standing ready for
+the drive back to their pastures. A more forlorn looking lot of beasts
+could not have been imagined.
+
+"They know they done wrong," volunteered Blinky, gazing at the dejected
+herd.
+
+"Well done, my boy," exclaimed Mr. Harkness, as Rob rode up. "I never
+saw a finer bit of horsemanship. But let us hope that such a resource
+will never again be necessary."
+
+"I hope so, too, Mr. Harkness," said Rob. "I tell you I was scared blue
+for a minute or two. If it hadn't been for this gritty little cayuse
+here, I'd never have done it."
+
+"So I did you a good turn, after all, when I roped up that four-legged
+bit of dynamite, thinking to play you a fine joke," said Blinky.
+
+"You did," laughed Rob, "and I thank you for it."
+
+"Say, Rob," put in Tubby plaintively, after the other boys had got
+through congratulating Rob, and wringing his hand till, as he said, it
+felt like a broken pump handle. "Say, Rob, don't ever do anything like
+that again, will you?"
+
+"Not likely to, Tubby--but why so earnest?"
+
+"Well, you know I've got a weak heart, and----"
+
+"A good digestion," laughed Mr. Harkness; "and speaking of digestions,
+reminds me that we haven't had any dinner."
+
+"As I was just about to observe," put in Tubby, in so comical a tone
+that they all had to burst out laughing, at which the stout youth put on
+an air of innocence and rode apart.
+
+"But," went on Mr. Harkness, "the 'chuck-wagon' I sent out to the Far
+Pasture last night should still be there. It isn't more than five miles.
+If you boys think you can hold out we can ride over there, and we can
+have a real chuck-wagon luncheon. How will that suit you?"
+
+"Down to the ground," said Rob.
+
+"From the ground up," chimed in Tubby, who had recovered from his
+assumed fit of the sulks, at the mention of the immediate prospect of a
+meal.
+
+"It'll be great," was Merritt's contribution to the general chorus of
+approval.
+
+"Very well, then. Blinky, you ride on ahead and tell Soapy Sam to cook
+us up a fine feed."
+
+"With beans, sir?" asked Blinky in an interested tone.
+
+"Of course. And if he has any T bone steaks, tell him we want those,
+too."
+
+"Say, did you hear the name of that cook?" asked Tubby, edging his pony
+up to Merritt's, as the cow-puncher spurred off on his errand.
+
+"Yes--Soapy Sam; what of it?"
+
+"Oh, I thought it was Soupy Sam, that's all," muttered Tubby.
+
+"Say, is that meant for a joke? If so, where is the chart that goes with
+it?"
+
+But Tubby had loped off to join the cow-punchers, who with yells and
+loud outcries were getting the steers in motion.
+
+Presently the cloud of dust moved forward. After traversing some rough
+country a yell announced that the cabins and the chuck-wagon of the Far
+Pasture were in sight. The cow-punchers immediately abandoned the tired
+cattle, leaving them to feed on the range, and swept down on the camp
+like a swarm of locusts.
+
+Soapy Sam, his sleeves rolled up and a big apron about his waist,
+flourished a spoon at them as they began chanting in a kind of
+monotonous chorus:
+
+    "Chick-chock-we-want Chuck!
+    Chuck-chuck we want chuck!
+      Cook-ee! Cook-ee! Cook-ee!"
+
+What's the luck?
+
+As they chanted they rode round and round the cook, whose fires and pots
+were all on the ground. In a huge iron kettle behind him, simmered that
+staple of the cow-puncher, beans. The atmosphere was redolent with
+those sweetest of aromas to the hungry man or boy, sizzling hot steaks
+and strong coffee. Soapy Sam had fairly outdone himself since Blinky had
+ridden in with news that the boss and some guests were on the way.
+
+"Now you go way back and sit down, you ill-mannered steer-steering bunch
+of cattle-teasers," bellowed Soapy Sam indignantly, at the singing
+punchers. "If you don't, you won't get a thing to eat."
+
+"Oh, cook-ee!" howled the cowboys.
+
+"Oh, I mean it, not a mother's son of you," yelled Soapy Sam. "All you
+fellows think about is eating and drinking, and then smoking and
+swopping lies."
+
+"How about work, cook-ee?" yelled some one.
+
+"Work!" sputtered the cook with biting sarcasm. "Why, if work 'ud come
+up to you and say 'Hello, Bill!' you'd say, 'Sir, I don't know you.'"
+
+Further exchange of ranch pleasantries was put a stop to at this moment
+by the arrival of Mr. Harkness and the boys, for the Simmons boys and
+the other Boy Scouts had been included in his invitation. The cowboys
+dispersed at once, riding over toward the huts, where they unsaddled
+their ponies and turned them into a rough corral. Water from a spring
+was dipped into tin basins, and a hasty toilet was made. By the time
+this was finished, Soapy Sam announced dinner by beating loudly on the
+bottom of a tin pan with a spoon.
+
+"Grub!" yelled the cowboys.
+
+"Come and get it," rejoined Sam in the time-honored formula.
+
+Within ten minutes everybody was seated, and in the lap of each member
+of the party was a tin plate, piled high with juicy steak, fried
+potatoes, and a generous portion of beans of Soapy Sam's own peculiar
+devising. Handy at each man's or boy's right was a steaming cup of
+coffee. But milk there was none, as Tubby soon found out when he
+plaintively asked for some of that fluid.
+
+"Maybe there's a tin cow in the wagon," said Soapy Sam; "I'll see."
+
+"A 'tin cow'," repeated Tubby wonderingly; "whatever is that?"
+
+A perfect howl of merriment greeted the fat boy's query.
+
+"I guess its first cousin to a can of condensed milk," smiled Mr.
+Harkness. "But if you'll take my advice, you'll drink your coffee
+straight, in the regular range way."
+
+And so the meal went merrily forward, in the shadow of the frowning,
+rugged peaks of the Santa Catapinas. In after days, the Boy Scouts were
+destined to eat in many strange places and by many "strange camp fires,"
+but they never forgot that chuck-wagon luncheon, eaten under the
+cloudless Arizona sky on the open range.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE.
+
+
+The meal disposed of, the cow-punchers and the boys, all of whom were
+pretty well tired out by their exertions of the morning, lounged about a
+while. Then preparations for the return to the ranch began. A guard was
+to be left over the cattle, however, as they were still restless and ill
+at ease, and the boys begged hard to be allowed to form a part of it. At
+first Mr. Harkness would not hear of it.
+
+"Why, dad, the boys are out here to get experience," protested Harry,
+"and what better training could they have in ranch life than by standing
+a night watch over restive cattle?"
+
+"That's all very well," rejoined his father, "but you must remember that
+I am in a measure responsible for the safety of these young men, and
+you boys have, up to date, displayed quite a capacity for getting into
+mischief."
+
+"And getting out of it again," put in the irrepressible Tubby. And the
+victory was won, as many another victory has been, by a burst of
+laughter. Soon after, the boys loped to the top of a nearby knoll, and
+waved good-by to the ranch-bound party. Then they turned their ponies
+and cantered back to the cow-punchers' huts at a smart pace. Besides the
+boys, the three Simmons brothers, Frank and Charlie Price and Jeb Cotton
+were to share the Scouts' watch, Mr. Harkness having promised to 'phone
+to their various homes explaining their absences. In charge of the four
+punchers was Blinky, who had also been given orders by Mr. Harkness to
+keep the boys out of mischief. The cattle, however, grew so restive
+during the afternoon that the attention of the punchers was fully
+occupied in "riding them." It seemed to soothe the bovines to have their
+guardians constantly near them.
+
+"The brutes smell Injuns, just as sure as my name is Blinky Small,"
+declared Blinky emphatically.
+
+The boys, after riding a few rounds with the punchers, began to find
+this occupation growing monotonous, and looked about for some other
+means of diversion.
+
+"I know," shouted Tubby suddenly.
+
+"Tubby's got an idea," laughed Merritt.
+
+"Tell him to hold it. He may never get another," jeered Rob.
+
+"Let's play ball," went on the stout youth, absolutely unperturbed by
+the laughter Rob's comment aroused.
+
+"Fine," came sarcastically from one of the boys. "Where's the bat?"
+
+"Where's the ball?"
+
+"Where are the mitts?"
+
+"Oh, where's the earth?" interrupted Tubby impatiently, stemming the
+tide of objections. "Say, can't you fellows play ball without a big
+league collection of stuff?"
+
+"Well, here's a bit of board I can trim down a bit and make a bat of,"
+said Jeb Cotton.
+
+"Good for you, Jeb. You are a young man of resource and ingenuity.
+You'll make a good scout. How's this for a ball?"
+
+The stout youth held up a rounded bowlder, which must have weighed at
+least four pounds.
+
+"Oh, rats! Say, what do you want to do--brain us?"
+
+"Couldn't," responded Tubby enigmatically.
+
+"Couldn't what?"
+
+"Brain you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Haven't got any."
+
+"Any what?"
+
+"B-r-a-i-n-s, brains!" yelled Tubby, retreating to a safe distance.
+
+"I have it!" exclaimed Rob suddenly.
+
+"What, the pip?"
+
+"No, an idea," responded the boy recklessly, forgetting his own comments
+on Tubby's inspiration.
+
+"Ho! ho! ho!" howled the stout youth delightedly. "Step up, ladies and
+gentlemen, and see the eighth--or ninth wonder of the world--Rob Blake
+has an idea. Step up lively now, before the little creature gets away."
+
+"We can borrow some potatoes from Soapy Sam," said Rob, when some of the
+laughter at his expense had subsided.
+
+"Borrow them?" exclaimed Bill Simmons. "I guess it will mean giving
+them. What I couldn't do to a potato with this bat----"
+
+He flourished the piece of lumber Jeb Cotton had shaped, as he spoke.
+However, Rob's suggestion was tried; but even as Bill Simmons had
+prophesied, the borrowed potatoes did not prove a success as baseballs.
+One after another, they were scattered into tiny fragments, and Soapy
+Sam, on being requisitioned for more, threatened to evict the entire
+party from his premises.
+
+"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Tubby petulantly. "What'll we do?"
+
+"Go swimming," laughed Merritt.
+
+"I have it," exclaimed Rob suddenly.
+
+"He's got it again--a relapse of ideas," grinned Tubby.
+
+"What's the matter with climbing that cliff and exploring those old cave
+dwellings?"
+
+"Great!" was the unanimous verdict. Privately, one or two of the boys
+who had heard the ghost legend, were not quite as eager as they seemed
+to be, to traverse the mysterious passages and tomb-like dwellings of a
+vanished race, but they didn't say so.
+
+"It's about three hours to sundown. We'll have to shake a leg to get up
+there and back," said Frank Price.
+
+Acting on this advice, no time was lost in making a start.
+
+"Have we all got revolvers?" asked Rob suddenly.
+
+"Sure," responded Jeb Cotton. "I brought mine when I heard that it was a
+stampede we were called out on."
+
+The others had done likewise.
+
+"Say," put in Tubby gloomily, as they set out, "what's the good of
+taking guns with us?"
+
+"Why, you never know what you'll run into in a cave," said Bill
+Simmons.
+
+"Huh, I never heard of guns being any good against ghosts," chillily
+remarked the fat youth.
+
+"Well, you're a nice cheerful soul, you are," burst out Rob. "Are you
+scared?"
+
+"Oh, no; I'm not. Go ahead and rout your ghosts out. Stir 'em up, and
+make 'em jump through the hoops and back again. Fine!" exploded Tubby.
+
+"Whatever is the matter with him?" asked Merritt, looking about for an
+answer.
+
+"That idea he had a while back has gone to his head," laughed Harry.
+
+And such was the general opinion.
+
+As has been said, the cliff, at the summit of which were the cave
+dwellings, lay about half a mile back from the huts of the Far Pasture
+cow-punchers. The cliff was in itself a remarkable formation. It towered
+sheer up and down like the wall of a house. It was just as if a giant
+cheese-knife had shaved a neat slab off the face of the mountain--a slab
+some four hundred or more feet in height, and a mile or more wide at the
+base.
+
+From where the boys were, however, they could perceive an old cattle
+trail winding up the mountainside, off beyond one edge of the smooth
+cliff. It traced its way among the scrub growth and stunted trees
+almost--so far as they could judge--to a point near the summit, and
+afforded an easy way of reaching the top of the cliff.
+
+An hour or more of tough climbing brought them to the top of the
+mountain--or high hill--which formed a sort of plateau. No time was lost
+in making for the edge of the cliff, in the face of which, some twenty
+feet or more from the top, were bored the entrances to the
+cave-dwellers' mysterious homes.
+
+"Well," said Tubby triumphantly, as he gazed over the dizzy precipice
+"no cave man's home for us."
+
+It looked as if the stout youth was right. A narrow ledge, forming a
+sort of pathway against the naked side of the cliff, ran below the cave
+dwellings as a shelf is seen to extend sometimes below a row of pigeon
+holes. But from the summit of the cliff to the ledge was, as has been
+said, all of twenty feet, and there seemed to be no way of bridging the
+distance.
+
+"Those cave men must have been way ahead of the times," mused Tubby.
+
+"How do you make that out?" inquired Jack Simmons, Bill's younger
+brother.
+
+"Why, they must have had air ships. They couldn't have rung their front
+door bells any other way."
+
+"Nonsense they must have had some way of getting down," interposed Rob,
+who was looking about carefully--"Hooray, fellows! I've got it," he
+exclaimed suddenly, "look!"
+
+He pushed aside a clump of brush and exposed to view a flight of steps
+cut in the face of the rock. So filled with dust were they, however,
+that they had not been visible to any but the sharp eyes of the Boy
+Scout leader.
+
+"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt, as Rob made for the lip of
+the cliff.
+
+"Going down there, of course," rejoined Rob.
+
+Merritt, as he gazed over the brink and viewed the sheer drop, down
+which one false step would have sent its maker plunging like a loosened
+stone, was about to utter a warning. He checked himself, however, and,
+with the rest, eagerly watched Rob, as the boy made his way down the
+precipitous steps, or rather niches, cut in the face of the rock.
+
+It was breath-catching work. The descending boy was compelled to cling
+to the surface of the cliff like a fly to a window-pane. Between him and
+the ground, four hundred feet under his shoe soles, nothing interposed
+but the narrow ledge of rock outside the cliff-dwellers' "front doors."
+
+Rob made the descent in safety, and presently stood in triumph on the
+ledge. One after another, the Boy Scouts of the Range Patrol followed
+him, and presently they all stood side by side on the narrow shelf.
+
+"Say, I hope the underpinnings of this don't give way," said Tubby, as
+he joined them, his round cheeks even ruddier than usual from the
+exertion of his climb.
+
+"You ought to have been an undertaker, Tubby," exclaimed Merritt. "All
+you can think of is death and disaster and ghosts."
+
+"Well, if you feel so good about it, you can have the first chance at
+going into one of those holes," parried Tubby.
+
+"Very well, I will," rejoined Merritt, flushing. He privately did not
+much relish the idea of being the first to enter those long-untrod
+passageways. They looked dark and mysterious. An oppressive silence,
+too, hung about the boys, and half-unconsciously they had dropped their
+voices to a whisper, as they stood on the threshold of a civilization
+long passed to ashes.
+
+"Go ahead," said Rob, coming to Merritt's side. Together the two boys,
+followed by the remainder of the newly recruited Boy Scouts, entered the
+rocky portal of the first of the dwellings.
+
+A faint, musty smell puffed out in their faces.
+
+"Smells like grandpa's cellar in the country," remarked Tubby, sniffing
+it.
+
+"Where you used to swipe milk and apples, I suppose," laughed Merritt.
+Hollow echoes of his merriment went gurgling off down the dark passage,
+almost as if distant voices had taken them up and were repeating the
+joke over and over, till it died away in a tiny tinkle of a laugh, like
+the ghost of a baby's whisper.
+
+"Ugh, I guess I won't laugh again," remarked Merritt.
+
+"Say, Rob, how about a light?" asked Jeb Cotton suddenly.
+
+"I've got a bit of candle here in my pocket," rejoined Rob. "I put it
+there the other night when Harry was developing some pictures. By the
+way, I wish you'd brought your camera, Harry."
+
+"So do I. This would make a dandy flashlight in here."
+
+The boys gazed about them admiringly, as Rob struck a match from his
+waterproof match-safe and lit the candle. They had penetrated fully a
+hundred feet into the cliff by this time, and the walls about them were
+marked with curious paintings and carvings, the work of the
+long-vanished cave-dwellers.
+
+Under their feet was a thick, choking dust, that entered their eyes,
+ears and noses as they breathed, almost suffocating them. But not one of
+them was inclined to notice this, when there was so much to take up his
+attention elsewhere.
+
+"I wonder what the cave-dwellers ate----" began Tubby, when his words
+were fairly taken out of his mouth by a startling occurrence.
+
+A sudden puff of wind, chill as the breath of a tomb, blew toward them
+down the tunnel, and at the same instant Rob's candle was blown out. It
+was all the boys could do to keep from shouting aloud with alarm as they
+stood plunged into sudden blackness.
+
+The next instant there came an appalling sound, an onrush like the voice
+of a hundred waterfalls. The wind puffed in their faces in sharp blasts,
+and something swept by them in the darkness with a strange, muffled
+shriek.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING.
+
+
+"L-l-let's get out of here--_quick_!"
+
+Tubby gasped the exclamation, as with a resounding rush the mysterious
+sounds swept by.
+
+"Ouch, somebody hit me in the face!" howled Jeb Cotton suddenly.
+
+"Me, too!" yelled Bill Simmons.
+
+"Say, fellows," shouted Rob suddenly, as the noise lessened, "be quiet,
+will you, till I light a candle. I've an idea what that noise was, and
+it was nothing to get scared at."
+
+"Oh, it wasn't, eh?" protested Tubby angrily. "Well, something hit me a
+bang on the nose."
+
+"And me on the ear," chimed in Jeb Cotton.
+
+"And me----" Bill Simmons was beginning, when Rob checked him.
+
+"Let up a minute, will you, and give me a chance? All that racket was
+caused by nothing more than a lot of old bats."
+
+"Cats, you mean, or flying rats," said Tubby scornfully.
+
+"No, bats. Look here. I knocked down one."
+
+Rob held his candle high above his head, and the astonished boys saw
+lying under a projecting bit of rock one of the leathern-winged
+cave-dwellers.
+
+"Huh," remarked Tubby, "and I thought it was ghosts. The ghost of the
+cliff. The one the cow-puncher said he saw."
+
+"I guess that ghost has leather wings and a furry body, if the truth
+were known," laughed Rob, as he flung the bat he had knocked down into
+the air, and the creature flapped heavily off toward the cave mouth.
+
+"Yes, ghosts are----" began Merritt, when he broke off suddenly. His
+mouth opened to its fullest extent, and his eyes grew as round as two
+big marbles. "Great hookey--what's that?"
+
+His frightened expression was mirrored on the rest of the countenances
+in the candle-lit circle, as a strange sound was borne to the ears of
+the Boy Scouts.
+
+"It's footsteps," gasped Jeb Cotton.
+
+"Coming this way, too," stuttered Tubby, edging back.
+
+"Nonsense," said Rob sharply, but nevertheless loosening his revolver in
+its holster. "It's the wind or something."
+
+"The funniest wind I ever heard," interrupted Tubby scornfully. "It's
+got feet--hark!"
+
+Nearer and nearer came the mysterious sound. They could now hear it
+distinctly--a soft "phut-phut" on the dusty floor of the passage.
+
+"Wow-oo, I see two eyes!" yelled Tubby, suddenly taking to his heels.
+His toe caught on a hidden rock, and he fell headlong in the choking
+dust.
+
+Scarcely less startled than the fat boy was Rob, as he made out, glaring
+at them from beyond the friendly circle of light, two big green points
+of fire.
+
+"Who's there?" he cried sharply.
+
+There was no answer, but the two green globes never moved.
+
+"Speak, or I'll fire!" cried the boy.
+
+"A-choo-oo-o--o-o-o-o-o!"
+
+The tense silence was shattered by a loud sneeze from Tubby, whose
+nostrils had become filled with the irritating dust. At the same instant
+an unearthly howl rang through the rocky corridors--a cry so terrible
+that it set Rob's heart to beating fiercely.
+
+He pulled the trigger more by instinct than anything else, and six
+spurts of flame leaped from the barrel of his automatic. With a howl
+more ear-piercing than the first, the points of fire vanished, and there
+was the sound of a heavy body falling.
+
+"Dead! whatever it is," was Rob's thought, but nevertheless he proceeded
+cautiously. It was well that he did so, for as he held his candle aloft,
+the huge, dun-colored body, which lay on the ground directly in front of
+him, made a convulsive spring. Rob, on the alert as he was, leaped back,
+and avoided it by a hair's breadth.
+
+"A mountain lion!" cried Harry.
+
+"That's what, and a whumper, too," exclaimed Merritt. "I guess we've
+laid the ghost all right. In the moonlight a light-colored creature like
+this would look white against the cliff face."
+
+"I wonder if that last sneeze of mine killed it?" remarked Tubby, who
+had leisurely sauntered up. There was now no doubt that the great tawny
+creature was dead. Its final spring must have been a purely convulsive
+act, for Rob's bullets had pierced its skull in three places.
+
+"Say, fellows," exclaimed Rob suddenly, "the fact that this brute was in
+here proves a mighty interesting fact."
+
+"And that is, that it's dead."
+
+"Please be quiet for two consecutive minutes, Tubby, if you can do it
+without injuring yourself. It means that there is another entrance to
+this place somewhere."
+
+"How do you make that out?" asked Jeb Cotton.
+
+"By applying a little scout lore. There are no tracks at the mouth of
+the cave, yet this lion is fat and well-fed, so that it must get its
+food outside somewhere. Therefore, there must be another entrance to the
+cave."
+
+"Quod erat demonstrandum," quoth Tubby learnedly.
+
+"Which is all the Euclid you know," teased Merritt.
+
+"Well," asked Rob, while Harry Harkness skillfully skinned the lion,
+"shall we go on or turn back?"
+
+"We'll go on!" shouted everybody.
+
+"If you guarantee no more scares," amended Tubby.
+
+With the tawny pelt slung over Harry's broad shoulder, the little party
+therefore pressed on into the darkness.
+
+"We'll have to hurry," said Rob suddenly, regarding his candle, of which
+not much was left.
+
+"How far do you guess it is from the entrance?" questioned Harry.
+
+"I've no idea," was Rob's rejoinder. "I half believe now we were wrong
+to try to find a way out this way."
+
+He said this in a low voice, so as not to alarm the others, who were
+behind the leaders. It did indeed begin to look as if the young
+explorers had placed themselves in a predicament.
+
+Presently, however, the air began to grow fresher, and, uttering a cheer
+at this sign that they were near to daylight, the lads rushed forward.
+Still cheering, they emerged into a place where the passage broadened,
+and in another moment would have been out of the farther end of the
+tunnel but for an unexpected happening that occurred at that moment.
+
+Rob, who had been slightly in advance, gave the first warning of the new
+alarm. As the welcome daylight poured upon his face, and he gazed into a
+sort of cup-like valley beyond the passage mouth, he heard a sudden
+"z-i-ip!" past his ear, like the whizzing of a locust.
+
+The next instant fragments of rock scattered about his head and he heard
+a sharp report somewhere outside.
+
+Like a flash, the boy threw himself flat on his stomach and wriggled
+back into the tunnel.
+
+"They're firing at us!" cried Tubby.
+
+"Yes, but who?" demanded Merritt.
+
+"That's the question," was Rob's rejoinder. "I guess it must be Indians,
+but then, again, it may be hunters, who, having seen something move,
+fired. I'm going to try to find out."
+
+"Oh, Rob, be careful," begged Merritt.
+
+"That's all right. Here, Bill, lend me that long pole you've got."
+
+Bill Simmons obediently handed over a long branch he had broken off to
+use as a guiding staff, before they entered the dark passageway. Rob
+pulled off his sombrero and stuck it on the pole.
+
+Then he cautiously poked it out of the rocky portal.
+
+"Bang!"
+
+Rob drew in the hat and examined it.
+
+"Phew!" gasped Tubby. "That's a fine way to ventilate a fellow's lid."
+
+A bullet had bored a hole right through the soft gray crown.
+
+"Guess that's Indians, all right," said Harry; "nobody else would be
+able to shoot like that."
+
+"It is Indians," announced Rob. "I saw one dodge behind some brush when
+I looked out."
+
+"Well, what are we going to do?" gasped Charley, the younger of the
+Price brothers, a lad of about fourteen. His face grew long, and he
+began to whimper.
+
+"Hey, hush up, there," admonished Tubby. "Boy Scouts don't cry when they
+get in a difficulty; they sit down and try to figure some way out of
+it."
+
+"And, in this case, that is easy," said Rob.
+
+"Huh?"
+
+"I said it is easy. All we've got to do is to go back again."
+
+"What, without the candle? Make our way through that dark place?"
+
+"Of course. That is, if you don't want to get drilled full of holes by
+those Indian bullets."
+
+"But supposing they follow us?"
+
+"We'll have to take our chances on that," rejoined Rob.
+
+"Well, you're a cool hand, I must say. You calmly propose that we shall
+walk back through a dark tunnel, with Heaven knows how many Indians at
+our heels?"
+
+"It's all we can do, isn't it?"
+
+"Um-m-well, I suppose so. Come on, then, if we've got to do it, the
+sooner we start the better."
+
+"Wait one minute," said Rob, and, stooping down, he pulled up some dry
+brush that grew near the cave mouth. He piled this in a heap and set
+fire to it.
+
+"Whatever are you doing that for?" asked Tubby.
+
+"I know," said Jeb Cotton, "so that the Indians, or whoever it is firing
+at us, will see it and think we are still there."
+
+Rob nodded approvingly.
+
+"That's it," he said, and plunged off into the blackness of the tunnel.
+He led the others through it at a rapid pace, but they did not travel so
+fast that they beat the daylight, however, for when they emerged at the
+other end it was dark, and the stars were shining above them. Far below
+they could see little flickering points of fire, where the cow-punchers
+were keeping watch.
+
+"Wish we were down there," muttered Tubby, as they all emerged on the
+ledge. "I'm hungry."
+
+"So am I," agreed Rob, "and the quicker we get down the mountain the
+quicker we'll get some hot supper."
+
+As he spoke, from the mouth of the tunnel, which acted as a sort of
+gigantic speaking-tube, there came what seemed to be the hollow echo of
+a shout.
+
+"The Indians!" gasped Rob; "they're after us! Up the steps, everybody,
+quick!"
+
+A rush for the rough stone steps followed, and so fast did the boys
+press forward that Rob had to warn them of the danger of speed.
+
+"If you slipped you'd be over the edge," he said.
+
+It was enough. The rush moderated. The thought of slipping off into
+black space was enough to alarm the stoutest hearts among them.
+
+Tubby was the last up but Rob, who remained behind with drawn revolver.
+He had nerved himself to fire at the first Indian head that showed out
+of the tunnel.
+
+"Come on, up with you," Rob urged, as the fat boy placed his foot on the
+rough flight hewn in the sheer face of the cliff.
+
+"All right, Rob," rejoined the stout youth, scrambling upward. "I'll be
+up before----"
+
+He broke off short, with a terrible cry that rang out far into the
+night.
+
+Rob, speechless with horror, saw the stout youth's feet slip from under
+him, and his hands clutch unavailingly at the smooth face of the cliff.
+
+The next instant--for the whole thing happened in the wink of an
+instantaneous photographic shutter--Tubby was gone.
+
+With a dreadful sinking of his heart, Rob stretched far over the edge of
+the ledge, which hung like some flying thing, between heaven and earth.
+Below him was utter blackness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+CAPTURED BY MOQUIS.
+
+
+Too frightened to utter a sound, the others, who by this time had
+reached the summit of the cliff, gazed over into the inky depths beneath
+them. It was Merritt who first found his voice.
+
+"Rob, oh, Rob! What has happened?"
+
+"Don't ask me yet," gasped the boy below him, and, throwing himself flat
+on the narrow shelf, he peered over into the black void.
+
+"Tubby, Tubby!" he called softly.
+
+"Gee, that was a drop, all right!" came up a voice from below him.
+
+The astonished Rob almost fell over the edge of the ledge himself in his
+excitement.
+
+"Oh, Tubby, is that really you?"
+
+"I guess so," came the voice below, "but I wish you fellows would hurry
+up and get me out of this; I'm hungry."
+
+"Gracious!" thought Rob; "fancy thinking of hunger in such a position as
+he is in."
+
+"I'm clinging to a tree," came up Tubby's voice. "I grabbed it as I was
+falling. It's only a very little tree, though, and I don't just know how
+long it'll bear me."
+
+"Get in as close to the roots of it as you can," breathed Rob, hardly
+daring to speak above a whisper for fear of dislodging his chum by the
+mere vibration of his voice.
+
+"All right," said Tubby, and Rob could hear him cautiously making his
+way along his slender aerial perch.
+
+Rob turned his face upward and hailed his corporal.
+
+"Say, Merritt," he cried, "take the fellows, and get back to camp as
+quick as your legs will carry you, and then get back up here again.
+Bring ponies and ropes with you--all you can get of them, and maybe
+Blinky and some of the men had better come."
+
+"All right, Rob. But how about you?"
+
+"I'll wait here. Hurry back, now."
+
+"We will," and an instant later Rob was alone, and his companions were
+making full speed to the camp.
+
+"How are you making out, Tubby?" called down Rob in a low tone.
+
+"All right. But my legs are cramped. Gee! I was lucky to strike this
+tree."
+
+"You bet you were. I noticed a few small ones clinging to the rocks as
+we peeped over, but I didn't think they'd ever be the means of saving a
+life."
+
+"Don't holler till we're out of the wood. It's bad luck."
+
+"Well, they ought to be back within an hour with the ropes. I guess they
+can get ponies up that trail."
+
+"I hope so," groaned Tubby. "I don't think I can hold out much longer."
+
+"Good gracious!" gasped Rob, "is the tree beginning to give?"
+
+"No, without grub, I mean. I tried to eat some of the leaves off this
+tree, but they're bitter and don't taste just right."
+
+"What! You've been moving about?"
+
+"Sure. I've got to have something to do."
+
+The very idea of any one's stretching their limbs in such a position as
+the fat boy's, almost made Rob's hair stand on end.
+
+"Tubby must have nerves of steel," he murmured, "or else not know the
+meaning of fear."
+
+Then he went on aloud:
+
+"For goodness' sake, don't move any more, Tubby. The slightest false
+move might send you off into space."
+
+"All right, I'll keep still," Tubby assured him, but in a free-and-easy
+tone.
+
+"Well, perhaps it's a good thing he isn't scared," thought Rob; "if he
+were, it would make the job of getting him up twice as difficult."
+
+For a long time he lay silent on the narrow ledge, so absorbed in the
+difficulties of the situation that he forgot everything. Even the
+recollection that there was a strong likelihood of the Indians pursuing
+them down the passage had entirely gone out of his mind--displaced by
+Tubby's accident. Suddenly the boy started up with a bound, which
+almost projected him over the ledge after Tubby.
+
+A hand had been placed on his shoulder.
+
+Before Rob could utter a sound another hand was placed over his mouth
+and he felt himself lifted from his feet. Peering down into his face,
+the startled boy could make out, in the faint starlight, half a dozen
+cruel countenances.
+
+How bitterly he blamed himself for being thus caught off his guard! The
+simplest precaution would have kept him safe, but he had allowed the
+soft-moccasined red men to slip up on him without placing the slightest
+difficulty in their path. If ever a boy felt foolish and angry, it was
+Rob, as his silent captors slid noiselessly as cats into the black mouth
+of the tunnel of the cave-dwellers.
+
+"I'm a fine scout to be caught napping like that," was his thought.
+
+But as the redskins bore him into the narrow portal, they were compelled
+to release one of his hands. Rob took advantage of this to break a
+shrub, in a way which he knew would indicate as plain as print to any
+Boy Scout who saw it which way he had been carried off.
+
+The next instant they were in the black tunnel. The Indians ran swiftly
+but noiselessly, bearing in their sinewy arms the powerless boy.
+Frightened Rob was not. His brain was too busy thinking up some plan of
+escape for that. His uppermost emotion was impatient anger at his folly.
+Even a loose rock, placed at the mouth of the passageway, would have
+been tripped over by the Indians, and thus have given him warning of
+their coming. Bitterly he blamed himself for his oversight. More bitter
+still were his thoughts, as his mind reverted to poor Tubby, hanging
+alone in space, without any means of knowing what had become of Rob, for
+the shelf, or ledge, on which the sudden drama of his taking off had
+been enacted, overhung the cliff face as an eyebrow does an eye.
+
+On and on traveled the Moquis, almost noiselessly pitter-pattering along
+the dusty floor of the passage. They skillfully avoided treading on the
+carcass of the skinned mountain lion, and it was not long before they
+emerged in the bowl-like valley in which Rob had seen the solitary
+marksman who had made a sieve of his hat.
+
+At the rocky portal the Moquis paused and grunted gutturally, and then
+started forward on a steady jog-trot once more.
+
+"Well, this is a luxurious way of riding," thought Rob, as he reposed in
+the sort of armchair the arms of the Indians formed, "if the
+circumstances were different, I wouldn't mind taking a long trip like
+this."
+
+It was so dark in the cup-like valley that the boy could see but little
+of the country. He only knew they were in the strange depression by
+noting how the dark walls upreared against the lighter hue of the
+star-sprinkled sky.
+
+Before long, however, his tireless kidnappers began to trot along over
+rising ground. For what seemed hours they traveled thus. Presently the
+boy became aware of a faint glare in the near distance. At the same
+time, the short, sharp yapping of a mongrel dog was borne to his ears.
+Before many moments had passed, they came in sight of several tepees,
+pitched under a grove of trees in a small, and seemingly inaccessible,
+cañon. The cook fires were lighted, and big pots hung over some of them.
+Children, squaws and dogs swarmed about, the curs yapping and snapping
+at each other. As the Indians who had captured the boy gave a shrill
+screech, the village literally boiled over with activity. From the
+tepees poured braves and squaws and more children. All rushed forward to
+meet the returning redskins.
+
+"Well, they seem glad to see us," thought Rob to himself; "wish I could
+say the same for myself. If only I knew how Tubby came out, I'd feel
+better."
+
+As he was borne into the circle of firelight, the boy was surrounded by
+a curious, chattering crowd, who pulled his clothes about, and poked him
+inquisitively. Suddenly, a tall Indian, his face hideously daubed with
+red, yellow and black, emerged with a stately stride from a tepee
+covered with rude pictures of hunts and battles. He regarded the boy
+with a piercing eye for a moment, and then, raising his arm, pointed to
+another tepee, and gave some sort of an order.
+
+Instantly Rob's arms were seized and pinioned by the Indians who had
+brought him from the cliff, and he was hustled over the ground and flung
+roughly into the tepee.
+
+"So that's their game, is it," gritted out Rob savagely, every drop of
+his fighting blood aroused by the cold-blooded ferocity of his manner of
+entrance into the patched and smoky tent.
+
+"Well," he went on, "there's no use getting mad, I suppose. Anyhow, it's
+a strange experience--captured by real Indians. That's more than any of
+the Boy Scouts at home can say, anyhow."
+
+No attempt had been made to bind him, and Rob therefore peeped out of
+the flap of his place of confinement to see what was going on about him.
+
+His experience of Indians had hitherto been confined to the Wild West
+show variety. He was deeply interested in the life of the tepee village,
+as he watched it busily moving about him. The savory smell of the
+Indians' supper, as they dispatched it, caused a strange sensation of
+emptiness about Rob's ribs, but no one came near him with food.
+
+"I'll be hanged if I'll ask them for it," grunted Rob to himself,
+"especially after the way they chucked me in here."
+
+When the meal was over, the braves pulled out their clay-bowled pipes
+and smoked stolidly. Not one threw even a glance at his tepee, and Rob
+began to think they must have forgotten him. He grew terribly thirsty,
+and not far from the camp there must be a brook, as he realized, by
+hearing the silvery tinkle, tinkle of its waters over the rocks.
+
+"Well, as no one will bring me a drink, I'll go and get one," thought
+the boy to himself, and he boldly threw back the flap of the tent and
+marched out.
+
+For an instant a wild hope flashed across him that he could escape. No
+attempt was made by any member of the smoking circle to check him, and
+the boy reached the bank of the stream without the slightest
+interference being opposed to his movements.
+
+"I'll try it," thought Rob. "I believe they've forgotten me."
+
+He placed his foot on a rock and was about to spring to the farther bank
+of the little creek, when a sharp voice behind him checked him abruptly:
+
+"White boy, come back!"
+
+The words came in the guttural, grunting tone that was unmistakably
+Indian.
+
+Rob wheeled, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a gleaming
+rifle-barrel.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+TUBBY'S PERIL.
+
+
+"That's queer; I don't see a sign of him."
+
+Merritt Crawford, on the return of the Boy Scouts with ropes and help,
+peered about the ledge for a trace of his leader, but in vain.
+
+"He can't have gone over, too."
+
+It was Blinky who suggested this alarming possibility.
+
+"Don't suggest such a thing," protested Merritt. "Hullo, Tubby!--below
+there--are you all right?"
+
+"Fine and dandy, but snake down a rope as soon as you can, will you, and
+you might tie a sandwich on it, if you don't mind."
+
+"You can have your sandwich when we get you up," promised Merritt, as
+the others, despite their worry over Rob's disappearance, broke into a
+loud laugh at Tubby's unconcerned manner.
+
+"Come on, now, and lend a hand with the ropes," ordered Blinky, who had
+brought several lariats up on his pony, and was busily engaged in tying
+them together so as to form a long lifeline. Tubby had not yet been
+informed of Rob's disappearance, as it was feared that it might unnerve
+him.
+
+A fresh difficulty now presented itself. On the narrow ledge there was
+not sufficient room for the holders of the rope to brace themselves. To
+haul up the stout youth, therefore, it was necessary to return to the
+summit of the cliff. This was quickly done, but you may be sure that
+great caution was exercised in mounting the steps cut in the rock face.
+The fate of Tubby was fresh in their minds, even without the reminder
+that he was still clinging to his uncertain support, so far below them.
+
+Blinky began looking about for a suitable tree, around which to take a
+turn of the rope, as soon as they reached the summit. One was found
+about fifteen feet back from the lip of the precipice.
+
+"Now, then," ordered the cow-puncher, as he tied a big loop in one end
+of his long line, "we'll see if this will reach."
+
+He dropped it over the edge of the cliff and dangled it about so that it
+rattled against the rock. This was in order that the fat boy could hear
+it and indicate in which direction he wished it swung.
+
+"Is it near you, now, Tubby?" shouted Blinky, peering down into the
+darkness and tentatively swinging the rope.
+
+"A little more to the right," came up the stout boy's voice, as steady
+as if he was asking for another helping of ice cream.
+
+"That boy's grit clear through, even if he does like to play the giddy
+goat sometimes," muttered the puncher.
+
+"How's that?" he asked a minute later.
+
+"Wait, I'll reach out and grab it."
+
+"Don't you dare do any such thing!" almost yelled the cow-puncher. "You
+might lose your balance, and----"
+
+He stopped with a gasp. A jerk had come at the other end of the rope.
+Down there, out of sight, Tubby had hold of it. A succession of jerks
+told the holder of the rope on the cliff edge that he was making the
+loop fast about him.
+
+"All right!" finally hailed Tubby. Then in imitation of an elevator
+runner:
+
+"Go--ing up!"
+
+"Hold on a minute," croaked out Blinky, even his iron nerve a trifle
+shaken now that the crucial moment was near.
+
+He ran back to the tree and took a deft turn round the trunk. Then he
+extended the end of the rope to the boys and told them to "tail on."
+
+"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt.
+
+"I'm going to stand at the edge of the cliff and transmit orders from
+below. Mind you, obey them the instant you hear them."
+
+"All right. We will, Blinky," came in chorus.
+
+"Very well. Now hold on and when I tell you to start hauling, pull with
+all your might. That boy's a heavy load."
+
+"A hundred and forty pounds and still growing," volunteered Harry
+Harkness.
+
+"Well, that rope held a six-hundred-pound steer, so I guess it'll stand
+his weight. All I'm afraid of is a knot giving. I made them in the dark,
+you know."
+
+The cow-puncher, after giving a few more final instructions, ran to the
+cliff edge.
+
+"All right?" he shouted down.
+
+"All right!" rejoined Tubby.
+
+Blinky straightened up and turned back toward the boys, holding onto the
+rope.
+
+"Haul away, boys," he ordered.
+
+A cheer burst from the throats of the Boy Scouts as they tailed on the
+lifeline, and walked backward from the tree with it.
+
+"Whoa!" came a shout from below suddenly.
+
+"Whoa!" yelled Blinky, repeating the word.
+
+"What's the matter?" he hailed down, as the hoisting movement stopped.
+
+"Why, I'm bumping my delicate knees," came up in Tubby's voice.
+
+"Can't be helped," yelled down Blinky. Then hailing the hauling line:--
+
+"Pull away, boys."
+
+Steadily they pulled till the fat boy had been raised twenty feet or
+more from his tree. Suddenly he hailed Blinky.
+
+"Whoa!" roared the cow-puncher.
+
+Instantly the hoisting ceased.
+
+"Now, what is it, Tubby?"
+
+"I just thought of something."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Say, lots of folks would pay money to see this, wouldn't they?"
+
+"Never mind that now. Are you all right?"
+
+"Yes, except my knees."
+
+"Ha-ul a-way."
+
+The boys on the other end of the rope hauled steadily now, and the fat
+boy drew nearer and nearer to the ledge.
+
+As he rose higher, hanging suspended like a spider from the end of his
+gossamer thread between the sky and the ground, a sudden thought struck
+Blinky. It would be manifestly impossible to haul Tubby over the edge of
+the ledge which projected like the eaves of a roof. Hardly had the
+thought flashed across his mind before a shout of alarm came from the
+boys, simultaneously with a sharp:
+
+Crack!
+
+"The rope!" came a wild yell from the tree.
+
+"It's broken!"
+
+Blinky went white, and his knees shook. At the same instant the rope
+began to snake hissingly over the edge of the precipice. It had parted.
+Tubby was once more dropping downward like a stone.
+
+"Catch it!" roared Blinky, regardless of his own peril, throwing himself
+onto the fast-retreating rawhide. He gripped it, but was carried like a
+feather before the wind toward the edge of the cliff by the descending
+Tubby's weight. In another moment--for he obstinately refused to let
+go--he would have been over the edge, when the line suddenly tightened.
+
+"Hooray! I've got it."
+
+The shout came in Merritt's voice.
+
+The boy, with great presence of mind, had managed to catch the rope, and
+secure it before its end whipped round the trunk of the tree. As the
+knot which had parted was in the section of the rawhide above the tree,
+this was possible. Had the rope broken between the tree and the cliff
+both Tubby and Blinky would have been dashed to death.
+
+"What parted?" roared Blinky, as soon as he had recovered his senses.
+
+"One of the knots. It slipped. It's all right, now we've fixed it!"
+hailed Merritt back.
+
+"Merritt, you're all right," shouted the cow-puncher, "if it hadn't been
+for you, I'd have been down among the cattle now. I'd have traveled by
+lightening express, too."
+
+As it was dark, the boys had not been able to see what the cow-puncher
+had done, so it was not till long afterward that they found out the
+meaning of his remark and learned of his courageous action.
+
+The cow-puncher feared that the sudden drop and the danger of the rope
+breaking again under the renewed strain might have frightened Tubby into
+a swoon. To his intense joy, however, in reply to his hail there came up
+a cheerful:
+
+"Say, what are you fellows doing? Having a game up there? You almost
+jolted the daylights out of me."
+
+"All right, we'll be more careful in future, Tubby," breathed the
+puncher, not daring to tell the boy what had actually happened.
+
+"Are you near the ledge, Tubby?" hailed the puncher suddenly, after an
+interval of hauling.
+
+"Yes, I think so. I can see a dark thing like a shelf right above me."
+
+"Stop!" shouted the cow-puncher to the rope handlers.
+
+The most difficult part of the enterprise was yet to come. They had to
+get the boy up on the ledge. To accomplish this at first was a poser,
+but Blinky finally solved it. Enjoining the rope handlers not to make a
+move till he hailed them, he slipped down the stone steps and reached
+the ledge. Arrived there, he peered over into the black void under his
+feet. Swinging a short distance below, he could distinguish a blacker
+object than the surrounding night. He could also make out a sound of
+humming. It was Tubby crooning to himself as he swung on the end of the
+frail rope:
+
+    "See-saw! see-saw!
+    On a s-um-mers day!"
+
+"Well, I'll be extra special, double-jiggered!" breathed the puncher, as
+he heard.
+
+He knelt on the edge of the ledge and spoke to the vocalist.
+
+"How's your nerve, Tubby?"
+
+"Fine, but it needs feeding," was the cheerful response.
+
+"All right, you'll do," rejoined the cow-puncher. "Now, then, Tubby, I
+want you to hang to the edge of this ledge by your finger tips for just
+two minutes. Think you can do it?"
+
+"I'll have to, won't I?" innocently inquired the stout youth.
+
+"Yes, or----"
+
+"Take a tumble," Tubby finished for him.
+
+"Never mind about that," spoke Blinky sharply. Then cupping his hands to
+his mouth, he shouted upward:
+
+"Haul away! Slow, now!"
+
+He placed his fingers on the taut rope and felt it slip upward through
+them.
+
+"Good old ropes," he murmured; "stretched like a fiddle string and sound
+as a ship's cable."
+
+Presently Tubby was hauled up level with the ledge.
+
+"Stop!" roared Blinky.
+
+He could have reached over in the darkness, and, catching the stout
+boy's hands, have hauled him up beside him--he could have, that is if
+Tubby had been able to assist him by digging his feet into the rock
+face. But this he could not do, as he was dangling from the lip of the
+ledge, fully three feet out from the face of the precipice, and with
+four hundred feet of empty space under the soles of his shoes. Moreover,
+in such case the cow-puncher would have nothing to brace himself with,
+and there would have been grave danger of his being dragged over by the
+other's suspended weight. Instead, therefore--necessity being the mother
+of invention--he had thought up a daring plan. What this was we shall
+soon see.
+
+"Can you grip the edge with your fingers, Tubby?" whispered the
+cow-puncher.
+
+"Yes," rejoined Tubby, reaching up.
+
+"All right, then, grab it--and in Heaven's name, hold on!"
+
+With a single swift stroke of his knife, the cow-puncher slashed the
+rope, leaving Tubby with the loop draped uselessly under his shoulders.
+The fat boy's hold on the edge of the ledge was all that now lay between
+him and eternity.
+
+Blinky's breath came sharp and hard as he rapidly adjusted the rope
+around himself just under the shoulders. Then leaning forward, he seized
+the stout boy's wrists in his steel-muscled grip.
+
+"Haul!" he bellowed.
+
+The line tautened just as the cow-puncher braced his muscles.
+
+"Stop!"
+
+The line became motionless, holding the cow-puncher firmly on the ledge,
+while his hands gripped Tubby's wrists.
+
+"Now," breathed Blinky to himself, bracing every muscle till they
+seemed to crack. The sweat rolled down his face, and his features became
+contorted. Tubby was a heavier load than he had bargained for. But pluck
+and grit won out, and after a few seconds of this Titanic struggle the
+stout boy stood safe on the ledge beside his rescuer.
+
+"Got him!" muttered Blinky triumphantly. But even as he spoke he almost
+lost the rescued boy. All at once Tubby became as limp as a half-emptied
+sack of grain, and seemed about to slide backward out of the
+cow-puncher's arms.
+
+"Hey, hold on, there! What's the matter?" roared Blinky in amazement,
+dragging him back.
+
+"Gone out, by the great horn spoon!" he exclaimed, as the rescued boy
+sank heavily in a dead swoon on the ledge beside his rescuer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+A FRIEND IN NEED.
+
+
+"Hum!" said Rob to himself, with an accent of deep conviction.
+"Evidently these chaps keep a closer watch on their prisoner than I had
+imagined. I guess I'd better retire to my boudoir again."
+
+The Indian sentinel lowered his rifle as the boy turned, and eyed him
+stoically without any more expression on his stolid features than would
+have shown on the features of a mask.
+
+"All right," Rob said to him, nodding cheerfully. "Don't worry about me,
+old chap. I'm going to bed."
+
+If the Indian understood, he made no sign. Instead, he wheeled and
+solemnly followed the boy back to the tepee. Rob entered it and lay
+down. Presently, to his delight, some blankets were thrown in to him.
+
+"Well, if I can't eat I can sleep, anyhow," he said philosophically, and
+in a few minutes he was curled up in the coverings and off as soundly as
+if he was slumbering in a cot at the ranch house.
+
+It was dawn when Rob awoke, as he speedily became aware when the tent
+flap was thrown open, and he saw facing him a rather pretty young Indian
+girl who bore in her hand an earthenware dish.
+
+"Hullo!" said Rob, sitting up in his blankets.
+
+"Hullo," rejoined the girl in a more friendly tone than Rob had yet
+heard in the Indian camp.
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"My name Susyjan," was the response, as the girl set down the steaming
+dish, in which, as a concession to Rob, an earthenware spoon had been
+placed.
+
+"All right, Susyjan," smiled Rob. "If you don't mind, I'm going to eat."
+
+"All right, you go ahead," acquiesced Susyjan, who, as Rob guessed, had
+been named after some white Susy Jane.
+
+"You talk pretty good English, Susyjan," remarked Rob, between
+mouthfuls of the contents of the dish, which had some sort of stew in
+it.
+
+"Um! Me with Wild West show one time."
+
+"Is that so?" asked Rob, interested. "So you've been East?"
+
+"Um! New York, Chicago, Bosstown, every place."
+
+"Maybe I've seen you in the show some place?"
+
+"Maybe."
+
+"What did you like best in the East, Susyjan?" asked Rob, after a brief
+silence.
+
+"Beads," rejoined Susyjan, without an instant's hesitation.
+
+"Beans?" inquired Rob, puzzled. "Oh, in Boston, you mean?"
+
+"No beans--beads," pouted the young squaw. "Ladies' beads. Round
+neck--savee?"
+
+Rob nodded.
+
+"Oh, yes, I savee, Susyjan. So you like beads, eh?"
+
+"Plenty much," rejoined Susyjan, nodding her smooth black head
+vigorously and showing her white, even teeth in two smiling rows.
+
+A bold idea came into Rob's head. Perhaps out of this young squaw's
+vanity he might contrive a means to escape. But he would have to go to
+work gradually, or she might betray him, and that would result, as he
+knew, in closer captivity than ever for himself.
+
+"What have they got me here for, Susyjan,--you know?" he asked.
+
+"Um-hum. Big Chief Spotted Snake him say bimeby get plenty much money
+for you. Have big dance."
+
+"Oh, that's the game, is it?" mused Rob. "Holding me for ransom. In that
+case, then, no wonder they are guarding me closely."
+
+"Say, Susyjan," broke out Rob presently, "how you like to have lots of
+beads--fine ones, like white ladies wear?"
+
+The Indian girl clapped her hands, which to any one familiar with these
+unemotional people indicated that she was hugely excited over the idea.
+Presently her face clouded over, however.
+
+"How can?" she asked.
+
+"Me give um you."
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes. I'll give you the finest set of beads ever strung together, but
+you have got to do something for me."
+
+"What that?"
+
+"Bring a pony round to the back of the tent to-night."
+
+The girl shook her head positively. But Rob saw that mingled with her
+refusal was an admixture of keen regrets for the loss of the promised
+beads. She knitted her brow in deep thought for a few seconds, and then
+sprang up, radiant once more.
+
+"All right, white boy. Me get you pony. Charley One-Eyed Horse him very
+sick. I get you his pony."
+
+"All right, then, that's settled," said Rob cheerfully. "But how about
+you? Won't you get into trouble over it? I don't want that, you know."
+
+"Oh, no," laughed the girl. "Charley One-Eyed Horse my uncle. Him very
+old man. Pony very old, too--plenty mean. I break rope. Braves think
+pony bust 'em and get away."
+
+Although the ethics of this didn't seem just straight to Rob, he was in
+no position to be very particular. More especially as the girl went on
+to tell him that the tribe expected to move on the next day, making for
+the valley in which the great snake dance was to be held. In the event
+of his being carried with them, Rob knew that his chances of escape
+would be problematical. If he was to make the attempt, he would have to
+carry it out as soon as possible.
+
+How the rest of that day passed, the boy could never tell. The feigning
+of sleepy indifference to things about him cost him the hardest effort
+he had ever known. The hours seemed to drag by. It appeared as if night
+would never come.
+
+Susyjan did not come near him again that day, and although he saw her
+moving about the camp at various times, she gave no sign of recognition.
+Once a dreadful thought flashed across Rob's mind. What if the girl had
+been used as a spy, and had betrayed his secret. This put him into a
+fever, but he was, of course, powerless to resolve his doubts. Suspense
+was all that was left for him.
+
+As evening closed in, the agony of waiting grew worse.
+
+"Those fellows must have made up their minds to keep awake all night,"
+thought Rob, as hour after hour went by, and the Indians still sat,
+blanket-shrouded, by their fire, playing some sort of game with flat
+slabs of stone. Finally, however, even the most persistent players
+ceased and went to their tepees.
+
+By the dying fire there now stood only two figures, tall, motionless and
+apparently wooden. But Rob knew that they were sentinels posted to watch
+the tepee in which he was confined. He knew, also, that even though they
+did seem unconscious of everything, their little black eyes were alert
+and awake to the slightest move on his part.
+
+"I guess I'll have to give it up for to-night," thought Rob, casting
+himself down on his blankets. He felt more despondent than he had at any
+time since his capture. The camp was now as silent as a country
+graveyard. In the intense stillness he could even hear the occasional
+crackle of an ember falling to ashes.
+
+Suddenly the boy started, and gazed, open-eyed, at the back curtain of
+his tepee.
+
+Surely the flap had moved.
+
+After a few seconds' gazing there was no doubt of it. The flap slowly
+rose, and presently Susyjan's flat-nosed countenance peered into the
+gloom of the shelter.
+
+"Come, white boy," she whispered. "Me got pony."
+
+"Blessings on your black, clayed head!" breathed Rob under his breath.
+
+Silently as a stalking cat, he moved toward the back of the tent. In
+another moment he was out of it and under the starry canopy of the sky.
+
+"Come," whispered the young squaw, gliding like a snake into the dark
+fringe of forest behind the tepee. Rob followed as quietly as he could,
+but alas! he was not as expert as the girl. His foot struck a twig which
+snapped with a loud "crack!" under his tread.
+
+Instantly the motionless Indians by the fire galvanized into life. They
+looked about them in a startled way, and for one dreadful moment Rob,
+crouching in the shadow and hardly daring to breathe, thought that they
+were about to examine his tepee. To his intense relief, however, they
+contented themselves with gazing about them, and seeing nothing unusual,
+resumed their statue-like vigil.
+
+"White boy like lame cow. Plenty tumble," snickered Susyjan, while Rob's
+cheeks burned wrathfully. He took greater care from that time on, and
+managed to follow the noiselessly gliding girl without causing another
+alarm, while she led him in a circuitous route round the back of the
+encampment.
+
+Suddenly they came to a hillside covered with wild oats, on which
+several dark objects that the boy made out to be ponies were hobbled.
+Deftly seizing one by the nose, the girl forced a rope "hackamore" she
+had brought with her into its mouth, and cast off its hobbles.
+
+Rob, with one hand on the little animal's rump, and the other on its
+withers, vaulted to the pony's back in a second.
+
+"Which way I go?" he whispered.
+
+"Over there," rejoined the girl, pointing to the eastward. "Bymby find
+trail."
+
+"All right, Susyjan; you're a brick," whispered Rob, "and I won't forget
+the beads."
+
+"Real ones, like white lady," insisted Susyjan.
+
+"Sure, and the whitest of them isn't any whiter than you," Rob assured
+her, as he dug his heels into the pony's bony sides and the little
+animal plunged forward. As he did so, Susyjan wheeled and vanished. It
+was important for her to be in bed in her tepee in case the alarm was
+given.
+
+"Slow and steady's the word, I guess, along here," mused Rob, as the
+pony picked his way among rough rock and stubbly brush. "If this little
+animal doesn't stumble and wake the whole camp, I'm in luck. Anyhow,
+Susyjan won't get in trouble over it now. That's one thing, and----"
+
+Crash!
+
+The little pony had done just what Rob dreaded. Nimble as it was, a
+loose rock had proved its undoing, and it had come down on its knees
+with a crash. Instantly it scrambled up again, but as it did so a series
+of demoniacal yells rang out behind the boy.
+
+The alarm had been given.
+
+Suddenly there was added to the general confusion the sound of confused
+shooting.
+
+Bang! Bang!
+
+"Waking up the camp," muttered Rob, swinging the end of his rope
+hackamore and bringing it down over the pony's flanks with a resounding
+"thwack." "Now get a move on, Uncle One-Eyed Horse's pony, for if ever
+you carried a fellow in need, you've got one on your back to-night."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER.
+
+
+Pluckily forward plunged the pony, as if anxious to redeem his untimely
+stumble.
+
+"It'll take them some time to get to their ponies and unhobble them,"
+thought Rob. "If I've luck, I may get away yet."
+
+Keeping steadily to the direction the girl had pointed out, the boy
+pressed on at as fast a clip as he dared. The farther he rode ahead of
+the pursuing tribe, the better chance he stood of getting beyond their
+earshot.
+
+It was risky riding, though, through an unknown country on such a dark
+night. What sort of going it was under foot, Rob could only tell by the
+uncertain gait of the beast he bestrode. Bushes occasionally brushed in
+his face, scratching it, and once in a while an extra strong bunch of
+chaparral would press against his legs, almost brushing him from his
+pony's back.
+
+Suddenly the way took a steep downward pitch.
+
+"I hope this isn't another precipice," thought the boy, as the pony
+half-slid, half-clambered down in the darkness. Presently his hoofs
+splashed in water, and Rob knew they were crossing a creek. He drew back
+on his single rein and listened intently. Fortunately the wind, what
+there was of it, set toward him.
+
+Borne on it he could hear distant shouts and cries. To his intense
+satisfaction, it seemed to him that they were farther off than when he
+had first heard them.
+
+"Gained on them!" muttered Rob triumphantly. "Now, if daylight would
+only come along----"
+
+But it was long to wait till daylight, and in the meantime Rob did not
+dare remain where he was. The Indians probably knew the mountains like a
+book, and would work them on a system. In such an event his only
+salvation lay in keeping moving. All at once he stopped, with a sudden
+heart leap, as his pony scrambled up the farther bank of the creek.
+
+A shrill cry sounded close behind him.
+
+Could it be possible that the advance guard of the Indians had
+approached him so nearly?
+
+The next instant Rob gave a laugh of relief. The shrill cry came again.
+
+"Whoo-to-too, who-o-o!"
+
+"Only an owl," exclaimed the boy. "Hullo, though, that's funny! There's
+another answering it--and by George! there's another!"
+
+From the woods to the right and left had come similar hoots to the
+owl-like sound he had noted behind him. At the same instant, the
+unmistakable sound of a dislodged stone bounding and rattling down the
+steep incline he had just descended was borne to his ears.
+
+"That's no owl," gasped Rob, "it's Indians!"
+
+As he realized how badly he had been fooled, his pony topped the rise.
+To any one below in the hollow, the outline of the pony and the boy
+showed blackly against the stars. Suddenly a sound like an angry bee in
+full flight hummed close to Rob's ear, and the next moment there came a
+sharp report behind him.
+
+Instantaneously the hoots to the right and left flanks redoubled, and
+began closing in. All at once one of the birdlike cries sounded right in
+front of the escaping white boy.
+
+He was hemmed in by Indians!
+
+The craft of the red men had proven too much for Rob. Even the darkness
+had not prevented their unerringly tracking him. By their skillful
+woodcraft and keenness of perception they had succeeded in discovering
+him and surrounding him.
+
+For an instant Rob's heart stood still. Then, as a second shot whizzed
+by his ear, aimed by the unseen marksman below, he urged his pony on
+over the rise.
+
+The advance, however, over the rocky ground sounded as loud as the
+approach of a squadron of cavalry. Wild cries and yells rang out on
+every side of the boy. What was he to do?
+
+One of those inspirations born in moments of keen stress came to him in
+his extremity. If all went well, he would fool the Indians yet, hard as
+they were to deceive.
+
+Slipping noiselessly from his pony as he rode under a dark clump of
+piñon trees, the boy turned it loose. The little animal, to his
+surprise, immediately turned backward, heading round toward the camp.
+But this turn of events, at first alarming, ultimately proved to be the
+very best thing that could have happened for Rob, who had at first hoped
+that the pony would trot forward.
+
+The Indians, hearing its rapid footsteps galloping back, reasoned that
+Rob, realizing that he was headed off, had turned his mount in a
+desperate effort to escape that way. Yelling like demons, and
+discharging their rifles in an almost continuous fusillade, the Indians
+wheeled and rode after the retreating pony. Naturally, the more they
+shouted and fired, the faster the little animal ran, and every step took
+them farther from Rob, who was crouching under his piñon trees.
+
+Not till they got back to their camp did the redskins discover that the
+white boy had served craft with strategy, and outwitted them. It was
+then too late to follow up the pursuit that night. The redskins knew
+that any one cunning enough to have devised such a trick would not have
+stood still while they were chasing a will-o'-the-wisp in the opposite
+direction to their desired quarry.
+
+And they were right in this assumption. Rob, as soon as the beat of
+their ponies' hoofs had grown faint, had chuckled to himself at their
+mistake, and silently as possible resumed his journey. If it had been a
+hard ride, it was a doubly hard tramp he had before him.
+
+Susyjan had told him that a trail lay not so very far ahead. In the
+darkness it was possible that he might have lost it. If he had, without
+food or water, he would soon be in a serious position. But Rob,
+nevertheless, determined that his best course lay in pushing on, and
+through the darkness he steadily and pluckily advanced.
+
+Presently he began to ascend what he knew must be a hill or
+mountainside. This complicated the problem. To go on along level ground
+was one thing, but to attempt to continue his way over an acclivity as
+steep as the one that faced him seemed foolhardy. Every step he took
+might be leading him farther and farther astray.
+
+"Oh, for a nice soft bed!" muttered Rob. "But not having one, a good
+flat stone would do."
+
+Soon afterward, following a lot of feeling about, he managed to find a
+flat-surfaced rock which seemed to promise well for a rough and ready
+couch. To the boy's delight, it retained some of the warmth of the sun
+which had beaten on it all day, and had he possessed a blanket to throw
+over it, might not have proved unacceptable as a sleeping place.
+
+Casting himself down on it, Rob soon dozed off, nor did he awaken till
+the blackness turned to the gray that preceded the dawn. Viewed by
+daylight, Rob found his surroundings such that he was glad that he had
+not proceeded any farther during the night. He lay on a hillside behind
+a screen of chaparral. But what caused him to feel some apprehension,
+when he thought of what might have happened had he continued his
+journey, was the fact that below his rock quite a steep slope dropped
+down to the valley below. It was a drop of some thirty feet, and while
+in the daylight any active man or boy could have clambered down it
+without injury, in the dark night it might have meant broken bones.
+
+But Rob had little time to think of such possibilities. Something else
+suddenly occupied all his attention, and that something was an odor of
+frying bacon!
+
+Mingled with it came the unmistakable aroma of tobacco. Somebody was
+camped near him, that was a certainty. His first impulse was to shout,
+but he checked it. It speaks volumes for the Western training that the
+boy was rapidly acquiring when it is said that before he showed himself
+from behind his chaparral, he gazed cautiously through that leafy
+screen.
+
+Below him he saw three figures seated about a fire, over which was
+frying the bacon that had aroused his hunger almost to the exclamation
+point. The three campers, whose ponies were tethered a short distance
+from them, had their backs turned to Rob, but presently one of them
+turned to reach something from a saddle bag. Rob came very near to
+uttering a startled exclamation and betraying his hiding place as he saw
+the man's features.
+
+It was Hank Handcraft.
+
+The former beachcomber wore Western clothes and had trimmed his once
+luxuriant and scraggly beard, but he was none the less unmistakably
+Handcraft. Nor, as almost simultaneously Hank's companions turned, was
+Rob's astonishment at all lessened, for one of them was Bill Bender and
+the other was the ranch boy to whom he had given a lesson in jiu
+jitsu--Clark Jennings.
+
+"Hurry up and stow your grub, Hank," Clark was saying. "We've got to
+light out of this neighborhood for a while and stick around the ranch."
+
+"You think that old Harkness is suspicious, then?" inquired Hank.
+
+"No, our disguises were too good. I'll bet they're cussin' the Moquis
+now."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Bill Bender. "That was a great idea, dressing up
+like Indians. I guess we got even on old Harkness for driving those
+sheep off his pastures."
+
+"You bet! and we'll do worse to him before we get through," grunted
+Clark. "It's pie for me. More especially as I can get even, at the same
+time, with that young sniffler, Harry Harkness, and his friends from the
+East--your old pals, Bill."
+
+"No pals of mine. You can bet your life on that," grunted Bill. "The
+best thing I'd heard for a long time was when you told me about Jack
+Curtiss shoving that kid Rob into the river. I'd like to have seen it.
+If it hadn't been for those Boy Scouts, as they call themselves, Hank
+and Jack and I would have been East now, instead of in this God-forsaken
+country."
+
+"What are you kicking at?" laughed Clark. "You've done pretty well since
+you've been here, and if we can get that bunch of mavericks of
+Harkness's, we'll all have a pocketful of money."
+
+"When are you going after them?" asked Hank, placing a big bit of bacon
+on a hunk of bread and gnawing on it in a satisfied way that set Rob
+half crazy to watch.
+
+"Soon as they are turned out on the Far Pasture. When they get over the
+scare of the stampede, they'll leave the place unwatched, and we'll have
+our chance. We ought to get five hundred apiece out of it, anyhow."
+
+"That would look good to me," grunted Hank.
+
+"Oh, the scoundrels!" breathed Rob to himself. "They're plotting to
+steal some of Mr. Harkness's mavericks. I remember now hearing him speak
+of turning them out in the Far Pasture."
+
+"Then we can clear out and get back East," concluded Bill, "and take
+poor old Jack with us. He isn't making out very well."
+
+"Sort of hanger-on in that gambling place, isn't he?" asked Clark.
+
+"I guess that's what you'd call it."
+
+Soon after the group saddled up their ponies and prepared to leave their
+temporary camp. That they were on the trail, after having concluded
+their dastardly attempt to stampede Mr. Harkness's cattle, Rob had no
+doubt, judging by their conversation.
+
+"Better put that fire out!" warned Clark. "Scatter the ashes. We don't
+want any one trailing us."
+
+The three worthies bent together over the ashes, while their saddled
+ponies stood eying them at some short distance.
+
+"Guess I'd better pull back out of this before they take it into their
+heads to look around," thought Rob, who in his eagerness to hear what
+was going forward below had thrust his head out through the bush which
+screened him.
+
+With the object of drawing back again, he braced himself on one hand and
+pushed backward. How it happened he never knew, for he had been very
+careful, but suddenly the small rock on which the pressure of his hand
+rested gave way with a crash.
+
+Clawing wildly at the bush, Rob sought to save himself from being flung
+headlong down the hill into the camp below him, but it was too late.
+
+Down the hill he shot at lightning speed, in the midst of a roaring,
+rattling landslide of rocks and earth.
+
+The men in the camp started and turned as the sudden uproar of Rob's
+involuntary toboggan slide reached their ears.
+
+"What the----" shouted Hank Handcraft.
+
+"Who is----" began Clark, when Rob's feet caught him in the stomach and
+cannoned him against Hank Handcraft. Clutching wildly to prevent his own
+fall, Hank caught Bill Bender's sleeve, and the next instant all three
+of the campers were rolling in a confused mass in the ashes of their
+fire.
+
+"It's a bear!" yelled Hank.
+
+"Bear nothing!" bellowed Clark Jennings, as Rob scrambled to his feet
+and darted off like a shot. "It's a boy!"
+
+"After him!" shouted Bill Bender, snatching up a rifle and aiming it.
+"That kid's Rob Blake."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT?
+
+
+But even as the former Long Islander raised the weapon to his shoulder,
+it was dashed down by Clark Jennings.
+
+"Look out, you idiot!" he bellowed. "Do you want to kill the ponies?"
+
+Rob, the instant he had recovered his self-possession, which preceded
+the recovery of the surprised plotters by some seconds, had made a dash
+for the ponies, which, as has been said, stood, saddled and bridled,
+near at hand.
+
+"Yip-yip!" he screeched, as he leaped onto the back of the first one he
+reached.
+
+Excited by the shouts and cries of the three amazed campers, and
+half-crazed by Rob's sudden leap onto its back, the animal plunged
+forward and vanished in a flash into the dark woods which veiled an
+abrupt turn in the trail.
+
+"Now, shall we shoot, Clark?" urged Bill Bender.
+
+"No, no; waste no time doing that. Hank, you stay here and look after
+things. Come, Bill--quick--the ponies!"
+
+In a second Bill and Clark were mounted and dashing off down the trail
+in a cloud of dust, in hot pursuit of the lad.
+
+"Do you think he heard what we were talking about?"
+
+Clark Jennings propounded the question as they clattered down the trail.
+Not far in front they could hear the rapid hoof beats of Rob's mount.
+
+"Don't know. The minute he came sky-hooting into the camp I'd a notion
+it was some one I've seen afore some place," rejoined Bill vaguely.
+
+"Yes, yes; but do you think he overheard?"
+
+"Dunno. We weren't expecting company, and therefore didn't lower our
+voices. Say, Clark, what if--what if he did hear?"
+
+"Then Harkness will find out everything."
+
+"Yes, if----"
+
+"Well, if what?"
+
+"If we don't bring him down. If we should kill him, we could easy blame
+it on the Indians. In fact, I guess the ranch folks would conclude the
+redskins did it, anyhow."
+
+Clark's ruddy face grew pale at Bill's sinister suggestion.
+
+"If he overheard, he knows enough to send us all to jail," prompted
+Bill.
+
+"That's right, too. Do you think you could----"
+
+Clark hesitated, as if the thought his mind held was too dreadful for
+him to voice.
+
+"Bring him down, you mean?" inquired Bill cheerfully. "Don't know. We're
+hitting up a hot pace for good shooting."
+
+"Say, Bill, I think you are the most cold-blooded fellow I ever met."
+
+"Oh, I'm cool, all right, in such a case as this," rejoined Bill.
+"Hark!"
+
+Both drew rein for a second and listened. The beat of hoofs in front of
+them suddenly slackened. So near was the sound that it seemed as if it
+could not have been more than a few feet ahead.
+
+"Right through that brush there!" whispered Clark, and hot as the day
+was, he shivered as if stricken with a sudden fever.
+
+Bill Bender coolly raised his rifle. He deliberately aimed it into the
+leafy screen. The next instant its deafening report rang out. It was
+followed by a loud crash from beyond the bushes, as if some heavy body
+had fallen.
+
+Clark fairly turned his pony round. He was too much of a coward even to
+dare to ask the question that forced itself to his lips. No such qualms
+assailed Bill Bender, however. He pressed spurs to his pony, and in a
+second flashed round the trees that hid what lay on the trail beyond. A
+second later a loud cry of astonishment broke from his lips. It was
+mingled with curses.
+
+"What's the matter?" hailed Clark tremblingly.
+
+"Come here."
+
+"Oh, Bill, I don't want to. I----"
+
+"Come here, I say. There's nothing to be afraid of."
+
+Thus urged, Clark, whose cheeks were still ashen under the bronze, urged
+his pony forward, and presently joined Bill. The latter had dismounted,
+and was standing over a dark, still object in the road.
+
+It was the pony Rob had borrowed so hurriedly.
+
+It lay stone dead, pierced in a vital spot by Bill Bender's bullet.
+
+"But the b-b-boy, is he----" stuttered Clark.
+
+"He's gone!" exclaimed Bill.
+
+"Gone?" echoed Clark in an amazed tone.
+
+"Yes, clean wiped out."
+
+"But how?"
+
+"Ask me an easy one."
+
+"Hasn't he left a trail?"
+
+"No, that's what makes it so queer. He must have had an aeroplane."
+
+For half an hour or more both youths searched the dusty trail and beat
+in and out of the dense brush, but not a trace of the missing boy
+rewarded their close scrutiny of the surroundings. Had the earth opened
+at that spot and swallowed Rob up bodily, he could not have vanished
+more utterly. The only trace of the missing boy was his sombrero, lying
+by the dead pony.
+
+Absolutely dumfounded with amazement, the two worthies finally gave up
+their search, and taking the saddle and bridle off the dead pony, made
+their way back to their camp, carrying Rob's broad-brimmed hat.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At about the same hour that Clark and Bill were searching among the
+piñon and scrub growth for some solution of the mystery of Rob's
+inexplicable disappearance, an equally perplexed party was assembled on
+a small rise some miles away. The latter group consisted of Mr.
+Harkness, his son, the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Corporal Merritt
+Crawford and Tubby Hopkins, Blinky and two other cow-punchers.
+
+The day before, following the rescued Tubby's return to the ranch with
+his companions, the expedition to find the missing Rob had been
+hurriedly formed. The cliff face had been reached in quicker time than
+would have seemed possible, and an examination by the cow-punchers and
+the Boy Scouts soon showed which way Rob had been carried off.
+
+The broken shrub at the entrance to the tunnel, with the end pointing
+into the darkness, indicated clearly enough to Merritt that Rob had made
+a Boy Scout sign that his trail lay that way.
+
+Leaving their ponies in charge of one of the cow-punchers who had
+accompanied them that far, the party had proceeded through the tunnel on
+foot. They were led by Blinky, who was almost as expert a trailer as an
+Indian, and had at the present moment arrived near the site of the
+Indian camp from which Rob had escaped the night before. Had the boy
+only known it, on his wild flight he had passed within a few miles of
+those who were searching for him in the darkness.
+
+With the earliest light they had picked up the trail once more, and now
+they had reached its termination, the camp of the Moquis. But to reward
+their activity and perseverance they found only black ashes and
+scattered traces of cooking and stabling. Of the camp itself, all trace
+had vanished.
+
+Blinky bent over the ashes and stirred them with his fingers.
+
+"Been gone some hours," he announced, after an examination. "The ashes
+are plumb cold."
+
+"How far do you think they will have proceeded by this time?" inquired
+Mr. Harkness.
+
+"Maybe twenty miles or more," rejoined the cow-puncher. "It's hard to
+tell. These redskins travel fast, boss, as you know."
+
+"Yes, I do know," rejoined the rancher bitterly; "especially when they
+have a good reason to. But what do you suppose they carried off the poor
+boy for?"
+
+"Maybe they figgered he was a spy from the Indian territory, and maybe
+they thought they could get a good price for him if they held him long
+enough."
+
+"I guess you are right, Blinky," said the rancher sadly, sitting down
+upon an outcropping rock.
+
+He flicked his riding boots meditatively for some seconds with his
+rawhide quirt, which he still carried, and then spoke.
+
+"Boys," he said, addressing the little party, "those Moquis have carried
+off Rob. There's no doubt of that. The question now is, shall we follow
+them up, or shall we go back and get the ponies, and thus lose valuable
+time? I think it only fair to tell you that I am for going forward."
+
+"I guess there's no need to take a vote, Mr. Harkness," smiled Merritt,
+gazing at the determined faces of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol.
+Every member of the body was there. Harry and the telephone had seen to
+that as soon as they had made certain that Rob had been carried off.
+
+"We've got enough to eat with us," put in Tubby, "so there's no reason
+why we shouldn't go ahead."
+
+As Tubby said, the party had brought rations with them which, though
+not very plentiful, were enough to last until they struck a further food
+supply.
+
+"Then forward it is," said Mr. Harkness.
+
+"Ye-ow!" yelled the cow-punchers.
+
+The boys joined in their wild shouts, but their enthusiastic start was
+suddenly thrown into silence by an unexpected incident. Hoof beats
+sounded on the trail, and as everybody turned expectantly in the
+direction from whence the sound had proceeded, they were astonished to
+see two ponies emerge, carrying three men.
+
+The new arrivals were Clark Jennings and Bill Bender, and, seated behind
+the latter, Hank Handcraft. The faces of all three took on a guilty,
+confused air as they perceived that, instead of riding, as they had
+expected, into a camp of Moquis, they had unexpectedly encountered the
+last persons whom at that particular moment they wanted to meet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO.
+
+
+If astonishment and uneasiness were depicted on the countenances of
+Clark Jennings and his companions, equally amazed looks were cast upon
+the newcomers by Mr. Harkness's party. The rancher was the first to
+recover his voice.
+
+"Well, Clark," he said rather sternly, "what are you doing here?"
+
+"We're not stealing sheepmen's land and feed from them, Mr. Harkness,"
+spoke up Clark boldly, as soon as he saw by the rancher's manner that
+the party was not, as he had at first feared, aware of Rob's strange
+fate.
+
+"We won't discuss that old question now, Clark," said Mr. Harkness
+leniently. "As long as there are sheepmen and cattlemen that question
+will always be productive of strife, more's the pity. Besides, certain
+fence-cutting incidents----"
+
+"You can't say I cut your fences!" sputtered Clark angrily.
+
+"Certainly not. I never dreamed of doing such a thing--without the
+proper evidence."
+
+The rancher threw a grim emphasis into these last words.
+
+"What we want from you now, Clark, is information."
+
+"Well?" asked the other in sullen tone.
+
+"We have lost track of a young man who was my guest at the ranch,"
+explained Mr. Harkness, his dislike of being compelled to ask
+information of Clark Jennings showing in his face. "His name is Rob
+Blake----"
+
+"Those two fellows know him well enough," broke out Merritt, pointing at
+Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft. The faces of those two worthies grew
+green as the boy pointed accusingly at them. Unwittingly Merritt had
+come near hitting the nail on the head when he connected them in a
+vague way with Rob's disappearance.
+
+"Well, what if we do know him?" growled Hank sullenly.
+
+"Mr. Harkness knows the mean tricks you put up on us in the East, so you
+needn't try to pretend you never met us before," went on Merritt
+angrily.
+
+"Come, come, Merritt," interrupted Mr. Harkness, "this will do no good.
+Whatever happened in the East is past and gone. What we want to know now
+is if they have seen Rob?"
+
+"No, we ain't," declared Clark boldly. "Why, do you think he's lost
+hereabouts?"
+
+"That's what we are afraid of. The Indians carried him off, and here, as
+you see, they were camped last night. I cherished a hope that he might
+have had the good fortune to escape."
+
+"I don't know anything about it," rejoined Clark in a more amiable tone,
+now that he saw that no suspicion attached to him.
+
+"What yer ridin' two on one pony for?" asked Blinky suddenly.
+
+"None of your business," rejoined Clark. "I guess we can ride the way we
+like."
+
+"Well, I guess so," echoed Hank. "Fine way they interfere with
+gentlemen's preferences out here in the West."
+
+"You had three ponies when you started out," pursued Blinky, looking at
+the spurs on Hank's feet, and noting the extra saddle which Clark
+carried behind him.
+
+"We did not."
+
+"What yer got the extra saddle for, then, and what's he got on spurs
+for, just ter decorate his handsome figure?"
+
+"Well, I can if I want to, can't I?" demanded Hank.
+
+"We're looking for a stray pony," explained Clark glibly. "That's why
+we're carrying the saddle--to put on him when we find him. That, too,
+accounts for the spurs. Anything else you'd like to know?"
+
+"Yes," demanded Merritt, his eyes blazing and his voice shaking with
+excitement as he stepped forward. "_Where did you get Rob Blake's
+sombrero?_"
+
+His eye had fallen on that article of headgear just as Hank had clumsily
+tried to conceal it. Merritt instantly recognized it by the stamped band
+about its crown.
+
+"Why, I--we--that is--it's my hat," lied Hank clumsily.
+
+"That's not true, and you know it!" shouted Merritt, carried away by
+rage. "You know where Rob Blake is. You----"
+
+Crack!
+
+The boy staggered back, half-blinded, as Bill Bender raised his heavy
+quirt and cut him full across the face with it.
+
+"Come on, boys!" shouted Clark, as Merritt reeled backward. "Let's get
+out of this."
+
+The two ponies sprang forward, leaving the ranch party half-stunned by
+the suddenness of Bill's brutal blow. But it was only for a second. In
+that interval of time Blinky's face had grown wrinkled and drawn with
+anger, and his hand had slid back to his hip and produced his
+forty-four. In another instant Bill would have paid dearly for his
+blow, but the rancher's hand fell on the cow-puncher's arm.
+
+"Not that way, Blinky," he said.
+
+"All right, boss," rejoined Blinky regretfully; "but it would have been
+a heap of satisfaction to have let daylight into that coyote's carcass."
+
+"Those fellows know where Rob is!" shouted Merritt, across whose face an
+angry red ridge lay, marking where the quirt had struck him. "Stop
+them!"
+
+"Steady on, boy, steady on," said Mr. Harkness in an even, cool tone.
+
+"And we without a spavined cayuse to follow 'em!" raged one of the
+cow-punchers.
+
+As he spoke, the three tormentors of the ranch party topped the little
+rise.
+
+As they did so, Clark Jennings rose in his stirrups and faced back.
+
+"Ye-ow!" he yelled defiantly, waving his hat mockingly toward them.
+
+Bang!
+
+The sombrero was suddenly whirled out of the youth's hand as if some
+invisible grasp had been laid upon it.
+
+Blinky looked apologetically at Mr. Harkness, and then carefully blew
+the smoke from the barrel of his pistol, the weapon with which he had
+just punctured Clark's headgear.
+
+"Awful sorry, boss," he said contritely, "but I just plumb couldn't help
+it."
+
+"Well, I don't know that I blame you," said Mr. Harkness, as the Clark
+Jennings party vanished in a hurry.
+
+The encounter with the three ne'er-do-wells had, however, changed the
+rancher's plans. Deducing from the fact that Hank Handcraft had Rob's
+hat in his possession, that the boy must have escaped from the Indians
+in some miraculous way, it was concluded that it would be a mere waste
+of effort to pursue the Moquis. The search must now be made for Rob
+himself. Even Tubby's spirits were dashed by the disturbing occurrences
+of the last few hours, and he and Merritt were both silent as the party
+made its way back to the cliff where the ponies had been left the day
+before. The plan now was to mount and scatter through the range.
+
+"We'll run a fine-tooth comb through it," was the emphatic way Mr.
+Harkness put it, "and if we don't find the boy, it'll be because he
+isn't on the top of the earth."
+
+All that day they retraced their steps, and at night made camp not far
+from the entrance to the tunnel. They did not dare to proceed in the
+dark, for fear of once more losing their path, and even more valuable
+time. It was not a lively party that settled down in the evening glow
+for a hastily cooked and not over-abundant supper. Even Tubby seemed
+distracted and worried.
+
+Suddenly Merritt, who was walking up and down, trying to evolve some
+theory to fit the facts in Rob's case, gave a shout and pointed over to
+the southwest.
+
+"Look, look!" he shouted. "Off there--what is it?"
+
+The boy's keen eyes had espied a thin spiral of blue smoke ascending
+from a hilltop against the burnished gold of the sunset.
+
+"A signal fire!" announced Blinky, after an interval.
+
+"It may be Rob signaling for help!" exclaimed Merritt, as the smoke rose
+and vanished and rose and vanished at regular intervals.
+
+"No, it ain't him. The Boy Scouts use the Morse, don't they?"
+
+"Yes. What has that to do with it?"
+
+"Well, this is Injun code."
+
+"Indian?"
+
+"Sure. The Injuns have as distinct a smoke-signal code as we have a
+wireless system. It works just as good, too, from what I can hear. Now,
+if we had their code book we----"
+
+"What, the Indians have a code book?"
+
+"You bet."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"In their rascally heads, son, where it's safe," rejoined the
+cow-puncher.
+
+"Hullo, look! There's an answer," cried Tubby, suddenly pointing to
+another hilltop some distance from the first.
+
+Another thin column of smoke was rolling upward from it in evident
+answer to the first.
+
+"Those fellows are making a date," decided the rough-and-ready Blinky.
+"I'd like to be on hand when they keep it, and maybe we'd find out
+something about Rob."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY.
+
+
+Blinky's conviction that the signaling had something to do with Rob
+would have been strengthened if he could have been so stationed as to
+watch the making of the first smoke telegraph Merritt noticed. On the
+distant hilltop Clark Jennings, Hank Handcraft and Bill Bender were
+stooped over a fire of green wood, alternately covering and uncovering
+it with a horse blanket. The signaling was being done under Clark's
+direction, as neither of the Easterners knew anything about the Indian
+smoke language. Clark, during his long residence in the West, had picked
+up his knowledge of it from Emilio Auguardo, the halfbreed who had once
+worked on his father's ranch. Through this man, too, he had become quite
+an intimate of the Moquis, as we have seen.
+
+"Douse it! Uncover it. Douse. Uncover. Douse. Uncover."
+
+Clark Jennings's commands came in regular rotation, with differing
+intervals between each order. In all essentials, those three enemies of
+the boys were using a telegraph code antedating by centuries the system
+in use to-day on our telegraph lines.
+
+"Ought to be getting an answer soon," muttered Clark, shading his eyes
+with his hand and standing erect on an upraised slab of rock, the better
+to command a view of the distant hills in the section in which he had
+reason to believe the Moquis had proceeded.
+
+"Hold on! Douse that fire!" he cried suddenly.
+
+Against the sky, not more than five miles distant, an answering thread
+of smoke had unrolled, like the coils of a slow serpent. Up it wavered
+and then stopped abruptly, to be followed by another puff. It was as if
+a locomotive lay beyond the distant hill. The puffs of smoke resembled
+the vaporous belchings of an engine stack when it is starting up.
+
+"They say for us to wait here and they will send a messenger," announced
+Clark finally.
+
+"Well, I guess we can wait as well as anything else," rejoined Hank
+Handcraft, extending himself lazily on the sun-warmed ground. "Are they
+going to send a pony?"
+
+"Don't know," rejoined Clark shortly. "Wonder what we'll do if Harkness
+hits our trail?"
+
+"Don't bother about that. He'll be too busy rounding up that boy Rob,"
+replied Bill Bender. "Queer where that kid went to."
+
+"Queer is no word for it," agreed Clark; "and what bothers me is that we
+are likely to have trouble with him yet if we're not careful."
+
+"You think he is alive, then?"
+
+"Must be, unless he melted into thin air."
+
+"That's so."
+
+"By the way, Clark," struck in Hank Handcraft suddenly, after a period
+of deep thought, aided by the consumption of sweet grass stalks,
+"wouldn't the present time be a good one to drop in on Harkness's
+mavericks?"
+
+"By thunder! you're right," was the reply. "Harkness is pretty sure to
+have the whole ranch force, or every one he can spare, spread out,
+seeking for that young cub. The Far Pasture will be pretty sure to be
+left unguarded. You're right, Hank; we'll see what the chief has to say,
+and then, if we can get a few Indians to help us, we'll make the big
+drive. Ha, ha! won't Harkness be sore if he finds the boy, to discover
+that it's cost him the loss of a few thousand dollars' worth of beef!"
+
+In further discussion of their plans the three worthies spent the next
+hour or so. By that time it was dark, and the thin, silver nail-paring
+of the new moon showed above the eastern hilltops. It grew very still,
+the deep silence being broken only by the hoot of an owl or the chirping
+of some night insect.
+
+Suddenly, and quite near at hand, a twig snapped loudly. Instantly the
+hands of each of the three flew to their weapons, but an instant later
+they perceived that they, at least, had no cause for alarm from the
+newcomer who had thus announced his arrival. It was an Indian that stood
+before them while they still stared in a startled way into the dark
+shadows.
+
+"Chief Black Cloud!" exclaimed Clark, as the figure silently glided into
+the small circle, shrouded in the folds of a heavy blanket.
+
+The chief had tied his pony some distance away, and had advanced with
+customary stealth on the camping place of his allies.
+
+"How!" grunted the chief, squatting down on his haunches. "You want
+talk?"
+
+"Well, that's the reason we lighted up our little wireless plant,"
+grinned Hank.
+
+"Hum! My brother with the hair on his face is foolish," snapped the
+chief, while the others laughed aloud at Hank's discomfiture. He did not
+again adopt a flippant tone toward the impressive figure which sat in
+council with them.
+
+"Chief Black Cloud," began Clark, "in the Far Pasture of Harkness, the
+rancher, below the places of the dwellers in the cliff, are many young
+cattle. They are unbranded, and if we can cut them out and get them
+away we can all be rich--make heap money."
+
+"Um!" grunted the chief, waiting for what was to come.
+
+"Harkness and his men are all away, seeking for a lost boy----"
+
+"Hum! Black Cloud know," interpolated the Indian.
+
+"Then you _did_ take him off!" burst out Bill Bender. "Why didn't you
+have sense enough to keep him?"
+
+"Hush!" ordered Clark sharply. He was sufficiently conversant with
+Indian character to know that the chief might be mortally offended by
+adverse comments on anything his tribe might have seen fit to do. But
+Black Cloud paid no attention to the interruption.
+
+"What you want Moquis to do?" inquired the chief, going right to the
+heart of the matter, for he had quite acumen enough to reason that from
+the conciliatory tone Clark adopted he had some service to ask.
+
+"That you will help us on the cattle drive," rejoined Clark boldly.
+
+The Indian shook his head.
+
+"No can do," he said decisively. "Mayberry, the Indian agent, is in the
+mountains seeking us now."
+
+Here the chief permitted himself a grim smile.
+
+"But Mayberry kind man. If we go back to reservation, make no trouble,
+everything all right. All the same as before. But if we steal the cattle
+of the white men, then the white man visit us with his anger."
+
+"It will be easy and no chance of being found out," urged Clark.
+
+But the chief shook his head.
+
+"No. My people here for snake dance. Not for steal white man's cattle."
+
+"Then you won't help us?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You'll be sorry for it, you old idiot!" snapped out Clark, foolishly
+letting his temper get the better of him for an instant.
+
+The Indian drew himself up with haughty dignity. Slowly he gathered the
+folds of his blanket about him. Then, and not till then, did he speak.
+
+"Black Cloud is never sorry for his deeds. But perhaps white men will
+sorrow for theirs," he said, with extraordinary dignity and force, and
+the next instant he was gone.
+
+"Say, Clark, it seems to me you've put your foot in it," muttered Hank,
+as the offended Indian strode off.
+
+"He looked Black Cloud by nature, as well as by name," commented Bill
+Bender. "He glared at you as if he would read your thoughts, Clark."
+
+"I hope not," laughed the young ranchman, though with a rather uneasy
+note in his assumed carelessness, "for they had a lot to do with him, I
+can tell you."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That we'll have to do the Indian act again."
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"Why, steal the cattle, disguised as Moquis. But come on, hit the trail.
+We'll be getting back to the ranch. I'll tell you as we go."
+
+As my readers will have seen, the above conversation throws a strange
+side light on Indian morality. The Moquis, of whom Chief Black Cloud was
+patriarch, had had not the slightest objection to "hold up" the boys and
+to capture Rob for ransom, but at the seriously punishable crime of
+cattle stealing they balked. What the consequences of this decision were
+to be to Clark Jennings and his companions we shall see later on. At the
+Jennings ranch they met Jess Randell, and here the four sat late,
+discussing the big coup which they hoped was to retrieve all their
+fortunes. At length they arrived at a decision, and arranged a plan
+which they deemed offered every security against discovery.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is now time to revert to the fortunes of Rob, of whom we last heard
+when the three worthies into whose camp he had been catapulted with such
+velocity were searching in vain for a clew to his whereabouts. As will
+be recalled, after leaping on the back of Hank Handcraft's pony, the boy
+had dashed off down the trail at top speed, without a very clear idea of
+where he was bound for. As he rode he heard the sounds of the pursuit,
+and simultaneously with the sharp report of Bill Bender's gun, he felt
+his pony halt and stagger beneath him.
+
+For an instant of time it seemed to Rob as if he was bound to be
+captured by his pursuers, but in his extremity his mind worked with the
+lightning-like rapidity common to quick intelligences in moments of
+great stress.
+
+At the precise instant that his little mount gave a groan and plunged
+forward into the dust of the trail, Rob reached above his head and
+seized the low-hanging branch of a small, stout tree. With the activity
+of the practiced athlete, he swung himself up into the thick greenery as
+the poor pony lay in its death struggles below. Rapidly working his way
+among the branches, he was soon several feet from the trail.
+
+While Bill Bender and Clark Jennings were hanging over the dead pony and
+searching in vain for the boy's trail, Rob was noiselessly making his
+way over rocks and stones down into a deep-timbered gully. He could
+hardly keep himself from an exultant laugh as he pictured the chagrin
+and amazement of his old enemies at his total disappearance.
+
+He rapidly sped on, and after an hour or more of traveling, feeling
+himself safe once more, he halted. Up to that moment he had pressed on
+without feeling much fatigue. The excitement of the rapid happenings
+since he had slipped upon the Indian pony's back had sustained him. Now,
+however, that he felt comparatively safe, the inevitable relapse came.
+Rob's knees began to feel strained and weak, as they had never felt
+before. His head, too, buzzed queerly, and a feeling of overpowering
+lassitude assailed him in every limb.
+
+"Good gracious! am I going to play out?"
+
+The boy asked himself the question with every feeling of dismay.
+
+He was in a solitary, remote part of even those wild mountains, and
+although he was on a small eminence, he could see nothing at any point
+of the compass but dreary, monotonous woods or rocky patches of
+sun-burned wild oats and foxtail. By the height of the sun and its
+direction, he guessed that it was about noon, and that he had been
+traveling in a southerly direction, but even of this, in his sudden
+collapse, he had no very clear notion. All he really knew was that he
+craved food with a wild, aching longing in his every fibre that had
+never before assailed him.
+
+"I wonder if starving men in cities ever feel like this?" the boy asked
+himself. "Woof! I could eat a horse raw cheerfully."
+
+Then came an interval of utter lassitude of mind and body, in which the
+boy lay stretched out on the hot ground, without a thought of anything.
+A strange ringing began to sound in his ears and his head felt dizzy.
+
+"Got to get out of the sun," he thought in a dim, remote sort of way.
+
+He voiced his thought aloud, and his tones sounded faint and far away to
+him, like the accents of another person.
+
+"Brace up, Rob, brace up," he began repeating to himself, as he made for
+a patch of deep shadow under a bush covered with a kind of purple
+berry.
+
+But in spite of his determination to "brace up," even the slight effort
+of crawling to the grateful shade bothered him so badly that, having
+reached it, he could only lie on his side and pant like an exhausted
+creature.
+
+All at once a sound was borne to his ears that made him sit up
+erect--the bright light of hope gleaming in his eyes.
+
+Heavy footsteps were coming toward him. The boy cared little whether the
+advancing individual was friend or foe. His coming meant food, at least;
+for surely no enemy could be so inhuman as to refuse nourishment to a
+boy in the pitiable condition of Rob Blake.
+
+"There's something queer about those footsteps, though," mused the boy,
+as the sounds drew nearer, accompanied by a sort of low, growling
+grumbling.
+
+What can it be?
+
+"Sounds like--like---- Great Scott! Silver Tip!"
+
+Into the small clearing on one side of which Rob lay beneath his
+sheltering bush, there had suddenly lumbered the half-legendary monarch
+of the Santa Catapinas.
+
+It was Silver Tip, the giant grizzly! For a second the monster's small,
+piglike eyes glared in blank astonishment at the encounter. He was
+hunting honey, and this sudden meeting with a white boy in the wildest
+part of his own particular domain evidently had struck him "in a heap,"
+so to speak.
+
+The next instant, however, the expression of his wicked little optics
+changed to one of active malevolence. He swung his great bulk savagely
+about--like the giant heavings and swayings of a picketed elephant. The
+small spot of snow-white hair that gave him his name shone out on his
+dark, shaggy hide like a bull's-eye. It was right over his heart. If Rob
+had had a rifle, he could have pierced it as unerringly as a target.
+
+[Illustration: With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed
+straight at his monstrous shaggy opponent.]
+
+But the lad was weaponless, and almost unconscious from fatigue and
+exhaustion. Indeed, delirium had been dangerously near when Silver Tip
+came lumbering into the clearing. The sight of the monster had tipped
+the delicately adjusted balance.
+
+With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed straight at his
+monstrous shaggy opponent. In sheer astonishment, Silver Tip reared his
+immense bulk upward.
+
+"Ha, ha! I'll kill you, you old thief, you old murderer!" yelled Rob
+deliriously, as he hurled his slight form straight against the monstrous
+hairy tower of rugged strength.
+
+The great forepaws--armed with claws as sharp and heavy as chilled-steel
+chisels--extended. In another instant the lad would have been in the
+monster's death grip, when an intervention, as sudden as it was
+unexpected, occurred.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+THE INDIAN AGENT.
+
+
+From the dense surrounding clumps of chaparral there had suddenly
+emerged the figure of a tall, bearded man, with keen blue eyes and a
+striking air of self-reliance and resolution. It was Mr. Mayberry, the
+Indian agent. Over his arm he carried an automatic rifle, which he
+instantly jerked to his shoulder as his amazed eyes fell on the
+extraordinary scene before him. Surely Jeffries Mayberry was the first
+man who had ever gazed upon the spectacle of a boy, unarmed and alone,
+attacking the hugest grizzly in that part of the country.
+
+"The boy is mad!" was his first thought, and, as we know, he was not far
+wrong in this surmise.
+
+But it was no time for speculation as to the causes of this strange
+scene, and Jeffries Mayberry was not the man to indulge in rumination
+when the necessity called for immediate action.
+
+Bang!
+
+For the twentieth--or was it the hundredth?--time in his eventful life,
+Silver Tip felt the impingement of a bullet. But with the monster's
+usual good fortune, the ball did not pierce a vital part. Instead, it
+buried itself in the fleshy part of the brute's forequarters, inflicting
+a wound that made him bellow with pain and face round on this new foe.
+
+As Silver Tip, in regal majesty, swung his huge form about, Rob crumpled
+up in a heap and lay senseless on the hot ground.
+
+For an instant it looked as if the great monarch of the Santa Catapinas
+meant to attack the Indian agent. But it seemed that he changed his mind
+as he faced him. An animal so relentlessly hunted, and so often wounded
+as Silver Tip, becomes endowed with almost human cunning and reasoning
+power, and part of Silver Tip's immunity from mortal wounds had
+doubtless been due to this. Most grizzlies, when wounded, charge
+furiously on their tormentors, thus assuring their fatal injury. These
+had never been Silver Tip's tactics. He had always preferred to "fight
+and run away, and live to fight some other day."
+
+So it was now. For the space of a breath, the two splendid specimens of
+human kind and the animal kingdom stared into each other's eyes. In his
+admiration of the magnificent brute before him, Jeffries Mayberry held
+his fire. He could not bring himself to kill the splendid creature
+unless such an action became necessary in self-defense. Were there more
+hunters like him, our forests and plains would not have become
+devastated of many of the species once so plentiful among them.
+
+Suddenly the bear's eyes turned away under the steady scrutiny of the
+plainsman, and with a growl that was half a whine, he dropped on all
+fours and lumbered off.
+
+"Lucky for you you didn't hurt this boy, or even your splendid majesty
+wouldn't have saved you," muttered Jeffries Mayberry, reaching the
+unconscious Rob's side in three or four rapid strides.
+
+"Hum! in bad shape," he murmured, laying open the boy's blue flannel
+shirt and placing a hand over his heart. "Good thing I happened along
+when I did, and---- Hullo!" he gave a long, low whistle of astonishment.
+"It's one of those kids that my bad boy Moquis held up this side of
+Mesaville. Well, here's a discovery."
+
+He stood erect, and placing his fingers to his lips, blew a shrill,
+piercing call.
+
+The next instant a splendid cream-colored horse came bounding into the
+clearing, shaking his head impatiently and whinnying as his large liquid
+eyes fell on his master.
+
+"Here, Ranger," said Mayberry, addressing the beautiful steed as if it
+had possessed the faculty of understanding. "Here is a poor boy overcome
+for want of food and water, and I think he's got a touch of the sun.
+We've got to get him home, Ranger."
+
+Ranger pawed the ground with one forefoot and his nostrils dilated. His
+keen senses indicated to him that a bear had been about, and if there
+is one creature of which Western horses are thoroughly afraid it is his
+majesty, King Bruin.
+
+Perceiving this, Mayberry spoke a few reassuring words to the splendid
+horse, which instantly quieted down, though it still glanced
+apprehensively about it. The Indian agent's next action was to place
+Rob's senseless form across the saddle, while he himself swung rapidly
+up behind the cantle.
+
+Lightly pressing the rein to the left side of his horse's glossy neck,
+the Indian agent urged it forward into the chaparral. Ranger's dainty
+skin shivered at the rough touch of the prickly stuff, but he went
+unflinchingly in the direction his master guided him.
+
+After an hour or more of riding, Mayberry emerged on a curiously located
+open space. It lay at the bottom of a saucer-like depression, which
+might, in some remote day, have been a volcanic fire basin. Now,
+however, it was covered with a luxuriant growth of wild oats, and at the
+bottom bubbled up a little spring. All about it shot up scarred
+mountain sides, with scanty timber hanging to their rocky ribs. In the
+midst of this isolation and wilderness it looked strange to see a small
+cabin located. It was somewhat tumbledown, to be sure, and had, in fact,
+been erected there in the early fifties by a wandering prospector.
+Jeffries Mayberry, seeking a convenient spot from which to keep up his
+surveillance over his Moquis, had stumbled upon it by accident, and with
+an old woodsman's skill had rendered it quite habitable.
+
+So, at least, Rob thought, when half an hour later he recovered
+consciousness in the cool gloom of the shanty. He was lying on a bed of
+fragrant boughs, and above him was the shingle roof of the hut, through
+holes in which he could see the blue sky.
+
+"Where on earth am I?" was Rob's first thought, as consciousness rushed
+back like a tide that has been temporarily stemmed.
+
+Gradually the events preceding his collapse grew clear to him, and he
+retraced recent happenings up to the appearance of the grizzly. Of his
+delirious attack upon the monster, he had, of course, no recollection.
+
+"I must get up and find out where this is, and how I got here," was
+Rob's first thought, and with this intention he rose to his feet. To his
+intense astonishment, the room instantly whirled dizzily about him, and
+the earthen floor seemed to rise and smite him in the face. What had
+happened was that the weakened boy had fallen headlong. As he lay there,
+a hearty voice rang out in an amused tone:
+
+"Hello, hello! Pretty weak, ain't you, for a boy who wanted to fight
+grizzlies with his bare hands?"
+
+Rob looked up. The big form of Jeffries Mayberry stood framed in the
+doorway.
+
+He came forward and, gently as a woman, placed Rob on the couch.
+
+"Why--why, it's Mr. Mayberry!" gasped Rob, as his eyes fell on his
+companion's kindly, bearded features.
+
+"Yes, it's me, right enough," laughed the Indian agent. "And now, if
+you'll lie quiet for a minute, I'll see how some rabbit stew is getting
+along. How does that sound?"
+
+"Fine!" smiled Rob, and, indeed, the mention of food had set all his
+appetite on edge again. "But see here, Mr. Mayberry, I don't want to be
+babied this way. I'm going to get up and----"
+
+"You are going to do nothing of the sort," exclaimed the Indian agent.
+"Here, Ranger." Again he gave the peculiar whistle, and Ranger's dainty
+head appeared inquiringly in the doorway.
+
+"Watch that boy, Ranger, and if he tries to get up--grab him!"
+
+With these words, the kind-hearted Indian agent vanished, to superintend
+the composition of the stew he was making over a camp fire outside.
+
+"Well," thought Rob, "this is a funny situation. I'm in a hut, and
+haven't the least idea how I got here. A horse is set to guard me,
+and---- I wonder," he went on, "if that horse is really a watch dog, or
+if that was just a bluff."
+
+It was a good evidence of Rob's returning vitality that he stretched
+out a foot to test Ranger's watchfulness.
+
+Instantly the sharp, pointed ears lay flat back on the horse's head, and
+the whites of his eyes showed menacingly.
+
+"I guess I'll stay here!" laughed Rob.
+
+As soon as he resumed his posture, Ranger's ears came forward, and the
+kind light came back into his eyes.
+
+"I've heard of horses that were broken that way," thought Rob, "but this
+is the first I have ever seen."
+
+Had Rob known it, such horses as Ranger--animals trained to the same
+wonderful pitch of intelligence--are not uncommon in the Southwest.
+Presently Mr. Mayberry appeared with a bowl of what to Rob smelled more
+appetizing than anything he had ever known.
+
+"Ah-h-h-h-h!" he exclaimed, as his nostrils caught the savor.
+
+"Wade in," said Mr. Mayberry, placing the dish on a rough, home-made
+table by his side. And "wade in" Rob did. He could have finished half a
+dozen more bowls like it--or so he felt--but Mr. Mayberry told him that
+after such a fast as he had endured it was important to "go slow."
+
+So much better was the boy after dispatching the meal that he was able
+to get up, and after a short time spent in staggering about, he quite
+recovered his faculties.
+
+"Now," said Mr. Mayberry, "tell me how you came to be where I found
+you?"
+
+Rob told him, his narrative being interrupted from time to time by
+exclamations of astonishment from the Indian agent.
+
+"This youth, Clark Jennings," interrupted Mr. Mayberry once, "has been a
+thorn in my side for years. His father is almost as bad. They have
+frequently committed all sorts of outrages on ranchers and implicated
+the Indians in them. Not only that, but they have paid the most
+unprincipled of the Moquis to help them in their cattle stealing and
+fence cutting."
+
+"I wonder they haven't ever been captured," said Rob.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Mayberry, "as the saying goes, it is almost impossible
+to 'get the goods' on them. And you say you know this cousin of his from
+the East, and his companions?"
+
+"Very well," rejoined Rob, "some time I will tell you about our
+experiences in the East with their gang. They actually kidnapped one of
+our Boy Scouts, and imprisoned him in a hut."
+
+"Why, they could have been imprisoned for that!"
+
+"They would have been if it had not been for the fact that they fled to
+the West."
+
+Rob soon concluded his narration, and Mr. Mayberry then related to him
+some of his own movements of the last few days. Despairing of rounding
+up the Moquis by moral suasion, he had telegraphed to Fort Miles for a
+detachment of troops. He was to meet them the next evening at Sentinel
+Peak, a mountain about ten miles from his present camping-place. The
+Indian agent had succeeded in locating the valley in which the great
+Snake Dance was to be held, and, in consequence, was ready to raid it
+with the troops at the height of the ceremonies.
+
+"Such an action will break up their practices for many years," he
+declared.
+
+"When are you going to start for the peak?" asked Rob.
+
+"I had not intended to leave till to-morrow," said Mr. Mayberry, "but
+since you have told me you are anxious that your friends should be
+informed of your safety, I must start this evening in order to reach a
+settlement from which I can telephone to the Harkness ranch."
+
+Rob's heart sank. Mr. Mayberry had not said "we." The boy had hoped it
+would be possible for him to go along. The Indian agent saw his manifest
+disappointment and hastened to reassure him.
+
+"I would gladly take you," he said, "but it is too arduous a trip for
+even Ranger to carry more than one. You will be safe here till I return
+with the troops. I will come by here with an extra horse, and, if
+possible, with your friends, and then we will ride together on the
+Moquis."
+
+A shrill whinny suddenly sounded outside.
+
+"Hullo, what's the matter with Ranger?" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry,
+springing up, followed by Rob.
+
+Outside the hut the boy saw a strange sight. The splendid horse was
+gazing about him apprehensively, and stamping the ground impatiently.
+His nostrils were dilated, showing red inside, and his whole appearance
+was one of intense nervousness.
+
+
+"What's the matter with him?" asked Rob, noting in a swift glance that
+Mr. Mayberry's face had become suddenly clouded.
+
+"Well," said Mayberry succinctly, "there are only two things which make
+him act like that--Indians and bears--and I reckon there are no bears
+about right now.
+
+"But Ranger scents danger," he went on. "I am certain of it. Old horse,
+you'll have to carry double, after all."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT.
+
+
+It was mid-afternoon of the day following the start of Mr. Mayberry and
+Rob, riding double, from the shanty in the lonely basin. Gathered in the
+big living room of the ranch house of the Harkness range was a cheerless
+little group, consisting of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Mr.
+Harkness and several cow-punchers, including Blinky. They had returned,
+disheartened and apprehensive, a few hours before, from a painstaking
+search of the mountains for a trace of Rob. But they had found
+absolutely none, and as Mr. Harkness had just said, felt as if they had
+indeed reached "the end of the rope."
+
+"You don't think, then, there is a chance of our finding him?"
+
+It was Merritt who spoke.
+
+"I'm afraid, much as I dislike to say it, my boy, that we have used up
+every possible resource at our command," rejoined the rancher.
+
+"Then what are we to do? We can't give up the search like this. He may
+be wandering about in the mountains now."
+
+"With nothing to eat," put in Tubby tragically.
+
+"I only wish you could suggest something," said Mr. Harkness in a weary
+tone, that made Merritt ashamed of his querulous speech.
+
+"What your experience has been unable to suggest it is unlikely that we
+could think of," he rejoined. "I've only one thing to say, Mr. Harkness,
+and that is that we delay notifying his parents in the East till the
+last flicker of hope has died out."
+
+"You mean that we may still hear some news of him?"
+
+"I know Rob Blake," rejoined Merritt, "and if he has an ounce of
+strength he will make his way back."
+
+"But the tracks of the big bear?"
+
+"Silver Tip," put in Harry.
+
+"That looks bad, I know," stubbornly rejoined Merritt; "but somehow I
+feel that Rob will yet come out all right."
+
+"I hope so, I am sure," breathed Mr. Harkness fervently.
+
+As the reader will have guessed by the rancher's remark, the searching
+party had encountered the tracks of the big grizzly in the course of
+their wanderings. Huge as were the monster's paws, there was no danger
+of mistaking them for those of any of his kindred. The fact that the
+huge brute was on that side of the range had proved a disturbing factor
+in the hunt for Rob Blake. It indicated another source of danger to the
+missing boy, aside from the peril of Indians, hunger and thirst, and
+many other dangers that he might have to face.
+
+Suddenly Mr. Harkness started up from the big hewn-oak chair in which he
+had flung himself, and sat up, listening intently. The others did the
+same, Blinky running to the window.
+
+"There's some one on a pony coming over the foothills like blazes bent
+for election!" he announced.
+
+"Wh-o is it?" demanded Mr. Harkness.
+
+"Can't make out. Doesn't ride like any of this outfit," said Blinky.
+
+"Maybe it's news of Rob," exclaimed Merritt.
+
+The same thought flamed up in the heart of each of the returned
+searchers.
+
+"It's an Indian!" cried Blinky suddenly.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Can tell by his riding. I can see his blanket flapping out, too."
+
+"Perhaps he has news of the boy."
+
+"He knows something of importance; he wants to get here quick," was the
+cow-puncher's rejoinder. "He's spurring on that plug of his for all he's
+worth. Indians don't ride that hard unless they are in a hurry."
+
+Everybody was on their feet now, and by common consent a movement toward
+the door began.
+
+They had not long to wait before the rider galloped up, and drew rein so
+violently as to cast his mount back on its haunches. As Blinky had said,
+the newcomer was an Indian. He had evidently ridden long and hard. His
+pony's coat was covered with a coating of dust, and his blanket was
+whitened with the same stuff. The paint on his face was almost
+obliterated by the same substance.
+
+"How!" he exclaimed, gazing with a hawklike intensity into the ring of
+faces.
+
+"How!" said Mr. Harkness in the same manner. "Black Cloud!" he exclaimed
+the next instant, as the chief slipped from his pony.
+
+The chief nodded gravely, and then looked about him uneasily. He
+evidently did not like to be the centre of so many curious faces.
+Divining his thought, the rancher invited him inside, ordering one of
+the cow-punchers to take the chief's pony.
+
+"Has--has he news of Rob?" begged Merritt, pressing forward.
+
+"Now, see here, Merritt," said Mr. Harkness, not unkindly, "the way of
+an Indian is one of the wonders of the world. You leave him to me, and
+if he does know anything of the boy I'll get it out of him."
+
+Together the Indian chief and the rancher passed into the living room
+of the ranch house, and the door closed on them.
+
+For more than an hour they remained closeted, and then they emerged once
+more. Black Cloud, so the eager boys noticed, looked more than usually
+grim and determined, while Mr. Harkness's face bore a stern look. The
+Indian's pony, which had been fed, watered and rubbed down, was brought
+round for him, and he cast once more a searching glance about him. Then,
+without a word, he leaped upon his little animal's back and dashed off.
+
+"He--he had news?" demanded Merritt, the foremost in the rush that
+instantly surrounded Mr. Harkness.
+
+"Yes, grave news," was the reply; "but come inside. I will tell you all
+he told me. In the first place, to relieve your anxiety, I must tell you
+that while Rob was for a time a prisoner of the tribe, he is so no
+longer, having, as we surmised after we saw his sombrero on that scamp's
+saddle, escaped."
+
+"Then nobody knows where he is?"
+
+"That's it."
+
+Blank looks were exchanged as they clustered about the rancher to hear
+what the chief of the Moquis had visited him for. Evidently, from the
+rancher's manner, there were graver thoughts still in his mind.
+
+"To explain to you what is to follow," he said, "I must say that things
+are now at a crisis as regards the leadership of the Moquis tribe. For
+the first time in many years Black Cloud's power is threatened. A
+younger chief, named Diamond Snake, has attained great supremacy in the
+tribe, and is using his influence to undermine the leadership of Black
+Cloud. Diamond Snake is not a full-blooded Indian, but he once worked
+for Clark Jennings on his father's ranch, before the family moved here."
+
+"Gosh-jigger them!" burst out Blinky devoutly.
+
+"Black Cloud, who is a pretty sensible Indian, refused to have anything
+to do with Jennings and his gang, and as late as last night, he tells
+me, warned them not to try to implicate his tribe in trouble. In spite
+of that, an attack is to be made on our mavericks in the Far Pasture by
+Jennings and his crowd, disguised as Moquis, and----"
+
+"It was Jennings and that bunch, for a bet, that stampeded the cattle!"
+cried Blinky.
+
+"I think so. They could easily rig themselves up as Moquis and deceive
+any one, particularly in the excitement. Black Cloud became suspicious
+after his interview with Jennings, and laid in hiding in the brush. What
+he heard confirmed his suspicion that Jennings meant to disguise himself
+and his helpers as Indians, when they raided the cattle, and so throw
+the blame on the tribe. Old Black Cloud readily saw that this would work
+him immeasurable harm, so rode right off to warn me."
+
+"But why should he do this?" asked Merritt.
+
+"It's clear enough," rejoined the rancher. "He knows I'm pretty
+influential, and he also knows that there's a hot time coming for his
+tribe when they are finally rounded up. By coming to me and telling me
+of Jennings's plans, he figures that I, on my part, will go to the front
+for him and save his tribe from any severe penalty."
+
+"But will you?" asked Harry.
+
+"I promised him to," rejoined Mr. Harkness. "His visit may be the means
+of saving me thousands of dollars. But now I am in a serious
+predicament. Most of my punchers are off on the Bone Mound Range,
+rounding up mavericks. Jennings will have quite a force, and how are we
+to oppose him?"
+
+"We'll help you," spoke up Harry boldly.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Why, the Boy Scouts. Except Merritt and Tubby, we can all rope, and not
+one of us is scared of a little shooting, or anything like that."
+
+"Well, I don't like the idea of taking you boys into danger."
+
+"I guess you'll have to take them," put in Blinky soberly.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Well, there's only myself and three other punchers, and we'll need at
+least a dozen to take care of the raid. Let the kids help. They'll do
+all right. I watched 'em carefully while we were trailing poor Rob, and
+they're made of the right stuff."
+
+So it was arranged that the boys were to take part in protecting the Far
+Pasture against Clark Jennings and his marauders. There was now little
+doubt in the minds of Mr. Harkness and the others that the stampede had
+been instigated by Clark and his friends, disguised as Moquis. In fact,
+we know from the conversation we overheard in the mountains that such
+was the case.
+
+"Where has Black Cloud gone, to join the snake dance?" asked Merritt,
+when this had been settled.
+
+"No; at least, he has gone there, but with the object of preventing it,
+if possible. In some way he has learned that Mayberry has sent for
+soldiers, and that he means to surprise the tribe at the height of their
+revelry. Black Cloud, for this reason, is determined to stop it if he
+can."
+
+"Can he, do you think?" asked Harry.
+
+"I don't know. He told me that Diamond Snake, in order to make himself
+more popular with the tribe, was a red-hot advocate of giving the dance
+with all its trimmings."
+
+"I'd like to see it," said Merritt suddenly.
+
+"See them eating rattlers, eh?" put in Blinky.
+
+"Do they eat them?" asked Tubby, interested at once at the mention of
+his favorite topic.
+
+"Eat 'em alive," was the startling reply; "that is, except the ones they
+throw into a red-hot pit of coals."
+
+"Did you ever see a snake dance?" asked Merritt eagerly.
+
+"No, but I heard my grandpop talk about 'em. He's one of the few white
+men that ever saw one and got out alive."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That by Moqui law if a white man is caught looking on at their
+fal-de-lals and fandangos, he is tortured to death."
+
+"Hum! I guess I don't want to see one as badly as I thought I did,"
+muttered Tubby.
+
+At this instant there came a sharp ring at the telephone. Mr. Harkness
+hastened to the instrument and took up the receiver. His face paled,
+and then broke into a joyous smile as he heard the voice at the other
+end.
+
+"News of Rob!" he shouted, wheeling about.
+
+Instantly they pressed forward about him, eager to hear.
+
+"He's---- Hullo! Yes. What's that? Oh, yes. Boys, Rob was at Red Flat
+some time ago. He is now mounted and on his way here. I am talking to
+Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, who saved him from a terrible death."
+
+"How far is Red Flat from here?"
+
+"About twenty miles, and the boy has a good horse."
+
+"He ought to be here in a couple of hours, then?"
+
+"About that," rejoined Mr. Harkness, resuming his conversation with the
+Indian agent. Suddenly they heard his voice raised as if in
+expostulation.
+
+"Don't do any such thing, Mayberry!" the boys heard the rancher exclaim.
+"You are mad to attempt it!"
+
+"Oh, I know, duty is duty, but it's no man's duty to place his head in
+a trap. Why, man alive, it's courting death, you----"
+
+"He's rung off," he exclaimed, turning to the inquiring group behind
+him. "I don't know what I wouldn't give to be able to stop him in what
+he is about to do."
+
+"Is he in trouble?" asked Harry.
+
+"No, my boy, but he soon will be. He is going to '_reason_' with the
+Indians. Reason with them!" he burst out bitterly. "Reason with a rock,
+a rattlesnake, a coyote, or anything else senseless or cruel, but don't
+reason with an Indian."
+
+"If you're enjoyin' this here present life," put in Blinky sagely.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL.
+
+
+Had Jeffries Mayberry and Rob Blake possessed the wonderfully sensitive
+intuition of the Indian agent's beautiful horse, they might have been
+able to feel, as they set out from the shanty in the clearing, that they
+were being followed and observed by more than one pair of cruel, beady
+eyes. Not being endowed with any such faculties, however, they followed
+the trail without any misgivings.
+
+The Indian agent, fortunately, had the good sense to accept the
+uneasiness of his steed as a sign of nearby danger. He had, for that
+reason, altered his previous determination to leave Rob behind in the
+hut till he returned with the soldiers from Fort Miles. And it was well
+that he did so, as we shall see.
+
+Hardly had the ring of Ranger's hoofs died out than a dozen dusky forms
+slid from the brush into the clearing and looked cautiously about.
+Seeing no cause for alarm, they entered the shanty and stripped it of
+everything they considered valuable. The Moquis, for such they were,
+then returned to the spot where they had tethered their ponies, and took
+the trail after Mayberry and his young companion. It was the scent of
+the ponies that had aroused Ranger's uneasiness, although the Indians,
+with their customary caution, had, as has been said, tethered them some
+little distance from the shanty.
+
+All that night, as Mr. Mayberry and his young companion rode steadily
+forward toward Red Flat, the objective point at which the Indian agent
+had determined to aim, the redskins stealthily dogged their tracks.
+Never by so much as an incautious move, however, did they betray their
+presence. Red Flat had been chosen as their destination by Mr. Mayberry
+on account of the superior attractions in point of distance it offered
+to the other station of Sentinel Peak. It was out of his way, it is
+true, but he determined to tax Ranger with the extra miles rather than
+expose Rob to peril, or keep him separated from his friends longer than
+needful.
+
+It was early dawn when they clattered into Red Flat, a small settlement
+with the essential store and post office. Its communication with the
+outside world consisted of the telephone and a stage which once a day
+trundled through. To the chagrin of the two travelers, however, the
+store in which the 'phone was located had been locked up during its
+owner's absence, and it was necessary to await his return before they
+could use the instrument. This opportunity, as we know, did not occur
+before the afternoon. In the meantime, Rob had hired a pony from the
+blacksmith of the place, and started off for the Harkness ranch.
+
+He had not been gone ten minutes when Ben Starkey, the storekeeper,
+drove into town. He had been off on a distant pasture, rounding up some
+sheep, which had kept him away till that time.
+
+"Hullo, Mr. Mayberry," he hailed, as he saw the Indian agent. "What
+brings you here? Come to buy a plow, or a shotgun to manage those
+'babies' of yours?"
+
+"Neither," smiled the agent; "but if you will open up the store, Ben,
+I'd like to telephone."
+
+"All right. Want to use the talk box, eh?" chattered the storekeeper, as
+he unfastened sundry locks and bolts. "There you are. Now talk your head
+off."
+
+Presently, as we know, Mr. Mayberry was communicating the news of Rob's
+astonishing rescue to Mr. Harkness. He also told him something that he
+had not confided to Rob, and that was that he intended to hold the
+soldiers in reserve and go by himself to the valley in which the snake
+dance was to be held, and, as he expressed it, "reason with the Moquis."
+
+Now, there is little doubt that, had Black Cloud been in supreme control
+of the tribe at that time, Mr. Mayberry, with his knowledge of the red
+men, and the many little kindnesses he had done them, might have been
+able to "reason with them." But, as has been said, conditions in the
+tribe were not normal. The unscrupulous Diamond Snake, who was as
+ambitious as he was senseless, had determined on giving the snake dance,
+and equally determined that the logic of the little circle who still
+kept their heads and counseled saner measures should not prevail.
+Unfortunately, the wisest counsel is not invariably the most acceptable,
+and so it proved in the case of the rival chiefs. Black Cloud was even
+spoken of as "timid" by some of the young bucks. This, however, was
+behind his back, as none dared to fling such a taunt in the face of the
+veteran.
+
+In counsel, Black Cloud, supported by three or four of the elder
+Indians, had pleaded the many years of comfort Mr. Mayberry had provided
+for them. If they did nothing to thwart his wishes, he reasoned, the
+good times would continue. If they deliberately rebelled, however, no
+one knew what would happen.
+
+This sage advice had been jeered down by Diamond Snake's followers. The
+ancient lore of the tribe had been quoted, the spirits of their
+ancestors invoked, and Black Cloud denounced as a traitor to the
+traditions of the Moquis. A similar situation has often prevailed in
+the counsels of the white men, who vaunt themselves so much the red
+man's superiors. It was simply the case of one leader bowing to the will
+of the populace, the other sternly stemming the tide, bidding defiance
+to the element which he knows stands for what is wrong and foolish.
+
+So it had come about that a band of young braves engaged in hunting had
+stumbled across Mr. Mayberry's hiding place, and, having discovered it,
+had decided that it was their duty to trail its occupant, whom they not
+unnaturally, perhaps, regarded as their enemy.
+
+No such thoughts were in Jeffries Mayberry's mind, however, as he rode
+slowly out of Red Flat in the early twilight. On the contrary, a smile
+played about his usually rather stern features, and his whole
+countenance was relaxed in an expression which, to any one viewing him,
+would have said as plain as print that Jeffries Mayberry was in a
+pleasant mood.
+
+In fact, the crisis that he had feared seemed to the Indian agent's mind
+to have passed the crucial point. The cavalry from Fort Miles would be
+at Sentinel Peak that evening. From there it was not a long ride to the
+valley in which the dance was to be held. By midnight, he felt certain,
+things would be in train for the peaceful return of the Moquis to their
+reservation. Jeffries Mayberry was, as our readers have doubtless
+decided by this time, a man to whom the idea of bloodshed or violence
+was abhorrent, but also a man who looked upon duty unflinchingly. He
+regarded the Moquis more as children to be looked after, and chided, and
+reasoned with, than as bloodthirsty and cruel savages, in whom a thin
+veneer of civilization only skinned the savagery festering below. Men
+had often told Jeffries Mayberry that his view of the Indian character
+was wrong, but he had always defended his views. They were shortly
+destined to be put to the severest test a man's theories ever were
+called upon to bear.
+
+The Indian agent had ridden easily down the trail some two miles or so
+in the direction of Sentinel Mountain, when Ranger suddenly swerved so
+violently from the trail as almost to unseat him.
+
+"Steady, boy, steady!" soothed the agent, patting the alarmed animal's
+neck. "What is it?"
+
+Ranger snorted violently and then, trembling in every limb, came to a
+dead stop.
+
+"Why, Ranger, I----" began Mr. Mayberry, when, with hideous yells,
+several dark forms rushed from the surrounding gloom. As their
+soul-chilling yell burst from those hideously painted faces, distorted
+with the vilest of passions, a terrific blow was dealt the Indian agent
+from behind, and he fell forward, almost beneath the trampling hoofs of
+the maddened Ranger.
+
+His assailants were the same Indians who had been trailing him all the
+previous night, and who had lain in wait for him outside the settlement.
+
+The taste of blood is said to transmute a hitherto peaceful sheep dog
+into a creature more dangerous to his flock than even a marauding wolf.
+In like manner, the Moquis' dash off the reservation had converted them
+into a ferocity of mind which had speedily wiped off the varnish
+civilization had applied so painstakingly.
+
+While one of the Indians, seemingly the leader of the band, possessed
+himself of the agent's fine rifle, another hastened to seize the
+plunging Ranger's bridle. But the animal, beside himself with rage and
+fear, reared straight upright. Angered, the Indian dealt him a blow with
+a heavy rawhide quirt. With a squeal of rage, Ranger struck with his
+iron-shod forefeet at the redskin, and striking him on the head, toppled
+him over in the road beside his master.
+
+The fellow, however, was not badly hurt, and was soon on his feet again.
+Meanwhile, the other red men hoisted the agent's unconscious form over
+the back of one of their ponies.
+
+Jeffries Mayberry lay as if he were dead. Blood flowed from the wound
+that the weapon with which he had been struck had inflicted on the back
+of his head. Only the regular rising and falling of his deep, massive
+chest showed that he still lived.
+
+Glancing furtively about them, the Indians, including the one who had
+been felled by Ranger, remounted and prepared to proceed. The chief,
+however, on whose pony the still form of Jeffries Mayberry lay, found
+himself thus without a mount, and essayed to ride Ranger. Splendid rider
+as the fellow was, he met more than his match in the Indian agent's
+steed. Time and again he attempted to mount, only to be driven off by
+Ranger, who rushed at the member of the hated race, with bared teeth and
+ears wickedly set back.
+
+With a laugh that acknowledged his defeat, the Indian finally gave up
+the attempt, and mounted his pony, sitting far back on the animal's
+rump. In the glance he threw at the fiery Ranger there was an expression
+of admiration and respect. There are few horses that an Indian cannot
+master.
+
+Attempts to lead Ranger proved equally hopeless, but as he seemed to be
+inclined to follow his master's form, they allowed him to trail behind.
+And so the procession wound on, sometimes following a trail and
+sometimes striking off through the trackless wild. Never once did the
+redskins falter, but kept on as unhesitatingly as if following a beaten
+track.
+
+Occasionally, as they journeyed on, poor Ranger gave vent to a pathetic
+whinny, but the master he loved so well lay still and motionless on the
+back of the Indian pony that bore him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+THE MAVERICK RAID.
+
+
+"Hark!"
+
+Through the dark, low-lying mass that marked the feeding maverick herd,
+a sort of convulsive shudder suddenly ran. The movement, somewhat like
+the undulation of a long wave, had not been lost on the keen eyes of the
+Boy Scouts lying crouched under the night sky behind a chaparral-covered
+rise.
+
+It was Rob who voiced the warning. Since we last heard of him at Red
+Flat, the boy had arrived at the ranch, and been welcomed with--well,
+let each one of my readers imagine for himself how he would greet his
+chum if he had been separated from him under such trying circumstances,
+and if, for a time, he had even feared that his friend might be dead.
+Suffice it to say that it was fully half an hour before Rob could be
+released from his chums and tell his story to Mr. Harkness, including
+confirmation of the Indian's story, that Clark Jennings and his evil
+companions meant to steal the mavericks while the rancher's attention
+was diverted by the hunt for the missing boy.
+
+A hasty supper had been dispatched soon after, and then the Boy Scouts,
+Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers had set out for the Far Pasture. They
+reached there at nightfall, and found everything apparently in orderly
+shape. Owing to the uncertainty from which quarter the cattle thieves
+were likely to make their attack, Mr. Harkness had decided to distribute
+his little force in two wings, so to speak. To the south of the feeding
+bunch of mavericks he had deployed his cow-punchers under his own
+leadership. The northern flank of the feeding band was placed under the
+guardianship of the Boy Scouts.
+
+"Now, boys," had been Mr. Harkness's parting words, as he rode off, "the
+signal that they have arrived will be two shots in quick succession.
+Remember, don't fire at the raiders unless you have to. Concentrate
+your efforts on saving the cattle. If Jennings and his outfit once
+succeed in getting them headed up toward the mountains, they are as good
+as lost. Jennings has some sort of secret pasture where he can keep them
+till he finds time to clap his brand on and dispose of them in the open
+market."
+
+"But in the meantime you can have him arrested," objected Rob.
+
+"That is true, but a bunch like that always has secret agents. If all
+the men whom I know to be implicated in the Jennings' escapades were in
+jail, there would still be men on the outside of the prison walls to
+carry on their nefarious work."
+
+For an hour or more no sound had come to disturb the great silence which
+brooded above the grazing grounds. The herd moved easily and steadily
+over their feeding places, displaying no symptoms of alarm as they
+cropped the half-dry grass.
+
+Rob had enjoined perfect silence among the Boy Scouts of the Ranger
+Patrol, and the boys, composed, lay like veterans to their arms behind
+their shelter.
+
+Suddenly a maverick that had been lying down on the outskirts of the
+herd lumbered heavily to its feet, and raising its head, sniffed the air
+for a moment. Then it emitted a shrill bellow. A thrill ran through the
+boys as the young steer gave its alarm.
+
+Simultaneously, almost, with the maverick's cry had come marked
+restlessness among its mates. They stopped feeding and moved uneasily to
+and fro. They huddled together as cattle do before one of the electric
+storms of the Southwest breaks over them.
+
+"They hear something coming," whispered Merritt, who lay next to Rob.
+
+"Must be scared, to stop eating," put in Tubby, from his position
+alongside Harry Harkness, on Rob's other side.
+
+"Hush!" breathed the young leader. "Listen!"
+
+"I don't hear anything," said Merritt.
+
+"Yes, you do. Listen again. Off there to the north."
+
+"You mean that sort of trampling sound?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I thought that was the cattle," put in Merritt.
+
+"No. I hear what Rob means," whispered Harry. "It's riders, and they're
+coming this way."
+
+The slight sound that had first attracted Rob's keen ears now grew in
+volume till it resolved itself into the rattle of ponies' hoofs
+approaching at a smart gallop.
+
+"Here they come!" exclaimed Rob, half unconsciously clasping his rifle.
+
+"Well, they don't seem to be anxious to disguise their approach,"
+commented Harry.
+
+"No, why should they? They figure that only three or four punchers at
+most are guarding the herd. With the force they have with them they
+suppose, I guess, that they can scare the punchers off."
+
+"I reckon that's it," agreed Merritt.
+
+Closer and closer drew the galloping, and Merritt began to shift
+uneasily. The others, too, began to stir about, eager for the word to
+advance and mount their ponies, which were concealed behind a high
+rampart of chaparral a few paces off. At last Rob gave the word.
+
+"Crawl over to your ponies, boys. Don't show a head."
+
+Silently as so many snakes, the Boy Scouts retreated, and managed to
+gain their little mounts without making any suspicious sounds.
+
+"Ready for the signal yet, Rob?" asked Merritt, noticing that the young
+leader had slipped his revolver from its holster.
+
+"Not yet. Give them a little more rope. We want to see what their plans
+are before giving the alarm."
+
+"All right. But don't let them give us the slip."
+
+"Not likely. Remember, I've got a few scores to even up with Master
+Clark Jennings and Company myself."
+
+Suddenly out of the darkness before them came an ear-splitting "whoop."
+
+"Yip-yip-y-ee-e-e-e!"
+
+Bang! Bang!
+
+Rob's pistol cracked out the signal that the attack had begun at the
+same instant.
+
+But quick as he was, the boy had delayed a little too long. In his
+anxiety to make sure from which quarter the drive was to begin, he had
+allowed the raiders to get between his line of scouts and the cattle,
+thus permitting them a free and open path to the mountains. In a flash
+Rob realized this, as he swung on his pony's back.
+
+Silence was of little moment now, and the Boy Scouts uttered a loud
+cheer as they swept forward behind their leader.
+
+Bang! Bang!
+
+It was the answer to Rob's signal, from Mr. Harkness's party. But it
+sounded faint and far off. The rancher, in his anxiety to allow ample
+room to head off the cattle, in case they started for the Graveyard
+Cliffs, had stationed his men too far to the southward.
+
+Already the drive had begun, and the mavericks were trotting off before
+the onrush of a dozen or more dark figures garbed like Indians.
+
+"Whoop-whoop-whoop-ee-ee!" yelled the raiders, the better to keep up the
+illusion that they were Indians.
+
+"I guess they don't know that they are not throwing any dust in our
+eyes," muttered Rob, as he dug his spurs in deep, and his pony answered
+with every pound of speed in its active little body. By his side was
+Harry Harkness and all about them surged the other Boy Scouts.
+
+"Spread out! Spread out!" commanded Rob, as the charge swept forward.
+"Each Scout take a man and rope him if he can."
+
+With the exception of the Eastern boys, every lad in the Ranger Patrol
+was, as a matter of course, an efficient roper, and could handle a
+lariat as well as they could their ponies. Rob's command to use the
+rawhides, therefore, met with shouts and yells of approval.
+
+The consternation created in the ranks of Clark Jennings's raiders by
+the chorus of shouts and yells behind them may be imagined.
+
+"I thought you told us there wouldn't be more than a few cow-punchers
+here," said Bill Bender angrily, as they pressed on behind the cattle,
+which were now loping fast toward the mountains.
+
+"Well, I thought so. How was I to know they'd have an army out?"
+
+"That's what they've got. Hark at that!"
+
+A fresh yell from the Boy Scouts broke out behind the disguised raiders,
+and this time it sounded closer.
+
+"Speed up those cattle," shouted Clark Jennings desperately; "we've got
+to get to the mountains before they close on us."
+
+A volley of pistol shots was the answer, but the raiders fired above the
+cattle's backs. A fresh burst of speed followed from the frightened
+animals, which were now fairly stampeding. The shouts and yells and the
+constant cracking of pistols drove them into a frenzy of fear. On and on
+swept the mad advance.
+
+"If once they get to the hills, we may as well give them up!" shouted
+Harry, above the deafening hammer of the galloping Boy Scouts.
+
+"Yes, we'd better pump some lead into them!" yelled Bill Simmons.
+
+"On no account," shouted back Rob. "Use your ropes, but no shooting."
+
+Fast as the mavericks were urged on, they could not make the same speed
+over the rough ground that the ponies of their tormentors achieved. This
+fact naturally held back the line of disguised white raiders and
+permitted the Boy Scouts to close up on them. Before long they were so
+close that they could see the headdresses and blankets of the supposed
+Indians, waving above the dark line of racing steers.
+
+In the excitement of the chase, the boys had quite overlooked the fact
+that they were in close pursuit of some of the most desperate men in
+Arizona, and had carelessly come within pistol range.
+
+Suddenly a bright flash spurted from one of the raiders' revolvers, and
+a bullet whizzed past Rob's ear.
+
+"A miss is as good as a mile!" he yelled exultingly.
+
+The boy, to tell the truth, did not feel any fear of being "pinked" by a
+raider's bullet. Added to the darkness was the fact that the whole body
+was sweeping forward over rough ground at tremendous speed. A man, to
+aim true under such conditions, must have been a phenomenal marksman.
+
+"Aim low! Fire at their ponies!" he heard Clark Jennings yell suddenly.
+
+"Ah!" thought Rob. "Now you are talking. If a pony gets hit, it puts his
+rider out of the race."
+
+Hardly had the thought flashed through his mind before there came
+another spurt of fire from the raiders' line, and Rob felt his mount
+collapse under him.
+
+He leaped from the saddle just in time to avoid being crushed as the
+pony crashed down in a dying heap. The boy had been riding off to one
+side of the Scouts when his pony was shot, and in the darkness not one
+of them seemed to have noticed that Rob was dismounted, for yelling and
+cheering, the chase swept on.
+
+"Well, I'm out of it," thought Rob dismally. "I hope they get them,
+though. I'd like----"
+
+"Up with your hands, and drop that rifle!"
+
+The command came out of the darkness behind him like a bolt out of the
+blue.
+
+Rob recognized that whoever had voiced the command meant business, and
+down fell his rifle with a crash, while his hands extended above his
+head.
+
+"Now I've got you where I want you," were the next words, coming in a
+vindictive voice from his captor. The next instant the speaker rode
+round the motionless Rob, and brought his pony to a halt directly in
+front of the boy.
+
+Despite the shrouding blanket and the waving feathers on the rider's
+head, Rob recognized his captor, with a thrill, as Clark Jennings. He
+was absolutely in the power of the vindictive ranch boy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE.
+
+
+"Lucky thing for me my pony went lame and I had to drop out," muttered
+Clark Jennings triumphantly. "I've got a few things I want to say to
+you, Rob Blake."
+
+"You'd better say them quick, then," rejoined Rob. "I'm not overfond of
+your conversation."
+
+"Don't try to be fresh, young fellow!" warned Clark, raising his rifle
+menacingly. "I've got a corrective for back-talk in here."
+
+"But you daren't use it."
+
+"Don't be too sure."
+
+"Well, what do you want to do with me?"
+
+"All you have to do now is to obey, and obey pronto--see? Now march."
+
+"Which way?"
+
+"Toward the mountains."
+
+"Very well." Rob wheeled obediently, and began to march off, but
+already he had conceived a daring plan, and unexpectedly an opportunity
+suddenly presented itself to carry it out. As Clark Jennings swung his
+pony, the animal spied, lying on the bare ground, a gleaming white
+skull--the relic of some dead and gone steer. With a snort, he gave a
+wild sidewise leap that almost unseated Clark, practiced rider though he
+was.
+
+Rob heard the snort and the jump and Clark's sharp exclamation. In a
+flash his mind was made up. He wheeled like a streak, and bending down,
+grabbed his rifle. In far less time than it takes to tell it, the muzzle
+of the weapon was covering Clark Jennings's breast.
+
+"Drop that rifle, Clark!"
+
+The tables were turned with a vengeance now. But Clark Jennings, to do
+him justice, was no coward. Disregarding Rob's command, he instead
+raised his own rifle and aimed point blank at the lad. A stinging
+sensation cut through Rob's right shoulder and his muscles involuntarily
+contracted. His rifle was an automatic, and the "safety" slide was open.
+As Clark's bullet penetrated his shoulder, Rob's finger twitched on the
+light trigger.
+
+Bang!
+
+The bullet ploughed into the flank of Clark's pony. The animal gave a
+frightened, pained squeal and a terrific buck. Utterly unprepared as
+Clark was for such a contingency, he was shot through the air over the
+pony's head, and landed with a crash on the hard ground. His rifle flew
+out of his hand in the opposite direction, while his pony, which was
+only slightly wounded, galloped, riderless, off.
+
+"Well, I hope you're satisfied now," growled Clark, raising himself on
+one elbow and gazing vindictively at Rob, who this time took no chances
+and kept his enemy covered. Clark, for all he knew, might have a
+revolver concealed about him.
+
+"I'm not the one to be satisfied," rejoined Rob. "That is for Mr.
+Harkness to be. I should advise you to tell him the truth."
+
+At that instant the sound of trampling hoofs was heard off to the south.
+It was the belated band of cow-punchers, headed by Mr. Harkness,
+sweeping at top speed in the direction of the retreating chase.
+
+"Co-ee-ee!" yelled Rob.
+
+"Who is it?" came back the hail.
+
+"Rob Blake. I want to see you."
+
+"Don't stop us now, Rob," came back Mr. Harkness's voice, "unless it is
+something serious. We don't want to lose that rascal Jennings."
+
+"If you'll come this way, you can't miss him," called Rob cheerfully.
+
+"Confound you, Rob Blake! I'll get even with you some day for this!"
+growled Clark, utterly dumfounded by the unexpected arrival of Mr.
+Harkness. A few seconds later the perhaps equally astonished rancher and
+his men loped up. A shrill cheer broke from the punchers as they saw the
+leader of the cattle raiders ingloriously squatted on the ground,
+nursing a sprained wrist and scowling like a cornered wildcat.
+
+"Well done, Rob," cried Mr. Harkness, as he saw the crestfallen raider.
+"Here, Blinky, just take a few turns round this fellow with a rope.
+Joyce," to another of the punchers, "you stay here and guard him. We'll
+take no chance with so slippery a customer."
+
+The rancher drew out an electric flash torch and illumined the scene.
+Suddenly his eyes fell on a dark, wet patch on Rob's shoulder.
+
+"Why, boy, you are wounded!" he cried.
+
+"Oh, just a touch. The bullet tore the flesh. It isn't anything,"
+protested Rob.
+
+"What, he fired at you?"
+
+"Yes," Clark answered brutally, "and I'm sorry I didn't kill him!"
+
+An examination of Rob's injury showed that it was only a slight flesh
+wound, and after it had been wrapped up with a strip of his shirt to
+keep dirt out till proper remedies could be applied, he mounted Joyce's
+pony, and the cavalcade swept on once more, leaving the appointed
+cow-puncher behind to guard Clark Jennings.
+
+"Hullo," exclaimed Mr. Harkness suddenly, as they rode on. "I believe
+something's happening up ahead."
+
+Indeed, it seemed so. Shouts and yells and imprecations filled the air.
+
+Suddenly a volley of shots sounded, and a sharp cry rang out.
+
+"Good gracious! They're shooting to kill!" cried Rob, dashing forward.
+
+Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers were close on his heels.
+
+It was a strange scene into the midst of which they rode at top speed.
+Harry Harkness, Bill Simmons, Jeb Cotton and Frank Price each had their
+ponies "backed" on their lariats, and at the end of each taut, stretched
+rope lay a dark object, rolling about and muttering angry imprecations.
+
+Round the group rode the Boy Scouts, yelling at the top of their voices
+and cheering vociferously. And no wonder. At the end of the different
+lariats lay four cattle raiders, their clumsy disguises dragged half
+off, giving a grotesque appearance to them.
+
+The captives were examined one by one, and found to be Hank Handcraft,
+Bill Bender, Jess Randell and old man Jennings. None of them would say
+a word except profanity, and so they were each tied and left, while the
+cow-punchers and victorious Boy Scouts set out to round up the crazed
+mavericks. The steers had now scattered in every direction, and getting
+them into a bunch was no slight job. Of the rest of the cattle raiders
+no trace could be found. It was learned afterward that they had galloped
+off when the Boy Scouts roped their leaders, and they made good their
+escape later across the border. The Boy Scouts, however, had not escaped
+lightly. Several of them had minor wounds, none serious, where the
+bullets of the cowardly raiders had struck them. It took a good hour or
+more to round up the cattle and quiet them, and then a sort of general
+inspection was made of the ranch forces. This resulted in a startling
+discovery. No Tubby Hopkins was to be found.
+
+"Who saw him last?" asked Rob.
+
+"I did," said Jeb Cotton. "He was riding off after a tall fake Indian."
+
+"Any one see him since?"
+
+No, nobody had.
+
+At this moment, while things looked grave, there came a sudden yell, off
+in the distance. A few minutes later Tubby's rotund form appeared. To
+the boys' amazement, the fat boy led behind him a mounted figure, bound
+up like a valuable parcel, with fold on fold of rawhide.
+
+"Why, Tubby, wherever have you been?" demanded Rob.
+
+"On special duty," announced the fat boy importantly. "I have made a
+prisoner of war."
+
+"What! Why, how?" gasped Merritt.
+
+"Who is it?" shouted Merritt, edging round to get a look at the muffled
+prisoner.
+
+Mr. Harkness turned his searchlight in the captive's face. In vain the
+fellow tried to bury his features in the folds of his blanket. His
+attempts at concealment were useless. A shout of amazement went up as
+Rob and Merritt recognized the face of Tubby's captive.
+
+It was Jack Curtiss!
+
+Arriving unexpectedly at the Jennings ranch that evening, he had been
+persuaded to take part in the raid. Knowing little about riding, the
+former bully of Hampton Academy had boastfully declared he would
+outride any of the raiders. He had been accommodated with a pony and had
+taken part in the onslaught which had had such an unexpected conclusion.
+Tubby, carried away by excitement, had chased the huddled figure, little
+knowing whom the blanket shrouded. Suddenly Jack Curtiss's pony
+stumbled, throwing the bully headlong. Tubby had immediately pressed his
+rifle to the fallen figure's head with the curt command:
+
+"Shut up!"
+
+As soon as his astonished eyes had recognized Jack Curtiss, he saw a
+fine chance to redeem himself as a hero in the eyes of the Boy Scouts.
+Tricing Jack up with his lariat, he had led him back in triumph to the
+rest.
+
+"Hooray, Tubby, I didn't think you had it in you!" cried Merritt,
+clapping the fat boy on the back.
+
+"Hum! I don't show all my good qualities at once," remarked Tubby,
+grandiloquently strutting about.
+
+"I wonder what you'd have done if it had been a real Indian?" laughed
+Harry Harkness.
+
+"Just the same--just the same," rejoined Tubby.
+
+A roar of laughter greeted the stout youth's complacent remark, but it
+was suddenly checked as a horseman came dashing up to the party.
+
+"Hullo, what's up now?" exclaimed Mr. Harkness amazedly, as the rider
+drew rein almost at his feet.
+
+"It's an Indian!" exclaimed Merritt.
+
+"Another fake," declared Tubby sagely.
+
+But this time it was a real Indian, and he drew Mr. Harkness aside and
+spoke some rapid words. The rancher's face showed traces of great
+excitement, although his voice was calm enough as he turned to the
+interested group, after some moments of conversation with the red man.
+
+"Ray and Sumner, you join Joyce back there and take these prisoners to
+the ranch, and see that they are kept under strong guard," he ordered.
+
+"What! Aren't we going back?" inquired Rob.
+
+"No, my boy. I have grave news. The Moquis have rebelled against Black
+Cloud's authority, and Mr. Mayberry is a prisoner in their camp."
+
+"Is he in danger?"
+
+"He is in the gravest peril. Only prompt action can save his life. Such
+is the message Black Cloud gave this Indian to bring to me."
+
+A few moments later Rob, mounted on a pony previously ridden by old man
+Jennings, a tough, wiry little cayuse, was riding beside Mr. Harkness,
+listening eagerly to the details of his kind-hearted friend's
+predicament. Behind them spurred the Boy Scouts and the few cow-punchers
+remaining after a guard had been detailed. Minutes counted, as they well
+knew, and no rider in the party spared his pony as they pressed rapidly
+forward, under the Indian's guidance, for the valley of the snake
+dance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE.
+
+
+About a deep pit, filled to the brim with red-hot, glowing coals, swayed
+a long line of naked, copper-colored bodies. The glow of the flaming
+torches illuminated weirdly the surroundings. Steep, rocky walls, bare
+of timber or vegetation, and the flat, basin-like floor of the deep
+depression in the mountains formed the secret valley of the Moqui snake
+dancers.
+
+In lines behind the braves, who were swaying their lithe bodies so
+rhythmically above the red-hot pit, were grouped scores of stolid-faced
+Indians. By not the twitch of a single muscle did they display the
+frenzy that was already at work within them, but their beady, dark eyes
+glittered as they watched the weird gyrations of the swaying line above
+the fire.
+
+All at once a low chant arose from the line. Its regular rhythm and
+booming inflection marked it as being of religious character. Steadily
+it grew in volume, till half the Indians in that rock-bound basin in the
+hills were intoning it.
+
+As the line of chief chanters swayed back and forth, from time to time
+the firelight gleamed on a row of earthen vessels, quaintly illuminated,
+which stood behind them.
+
+Suddenly one of the dancers turned, and while the shrieks of his fellows
+grew more and more frenzied, he plunged his hand into the mouth of one
+of the vessels. He drew his arm forth again, embellished by a hideous
+ornament--a writhing, struggling diamond-back rattler!
+
+The creature's flat head darted at the man's face, and its fangs seemed
+to bury themselves in his arm, but his bronze form danced more furiously
+than ever, and the singing grew louder and more frenzied. The Moqui had
+reached a pitch of exaltation in which the venom of the serpent was
+harmless to him.
+
+As the other Indians witnessed the sight their expression of stoicism
+changed as if by magic. The excitement of the dance was upon them.
+Suddenly a blood-curdling yell echoed against the rock-bound walls.
+
+A young brave, one of those who had been seated in the front row of the
+onlookers, sprang to his feet. He cast off his blanket with a shout,
+standing upright in the firelight, a nude figure of bronze. The play of
+his muscles showed plain as day in the glare of the glowing pit.
+Straight up to the earthen jars he gyrated, chanting the refrain of the
+weird ritual.
+
+Uttering a wild screech, he plunged his arm up to the elbow into its
+wriggling, deadly contents, and drew forth a vicious-looking sidewinder,
+or desert rattlesnake--a distinct species from the big diamond-back--and
+even more deadly.
+
+Without the slightest hesitation, he thrust the monster's spade-shaped
+head into his mouth, and with one clean bite severed it. He then spat it
+forth into the glowing pit, where it fell hissing.
+
+[Illustration: Uttering a wild screech, he drew forth a vicious-looking
+desert rattlesnake.]
+
+This was the signal for yet wilder frenzies on the part of the Indians.
+One after another the young braves cast off their blankets and rushed
+forward to repeat the nauseous performance of the snake eater. The
+ground at the feet of the chanters of the ritual was littered with limp
+reptiles' bodies. An overpowering, musky stench arose on the air, the
+odor of scores of burnt envenomed heads.
+
+In the midst of that maddened throng there was but one quiet, unmoved
+countenance, and that was that of a bearded man, who stood back some
+distance in the shadows. He eyed the ceremonies with a look that was
+half contempt and half pity. But he made no motion to interfere, nor did
+he, in fact, move at all. And for a very good reason. He was bound hand
+and foot to a post.
+
+His face was white as ashes under its deep bronze, but not from fear,
+for not a tremor crossed his features. Perhaps a deep wound on the back
+of his head accounted for it. But Jeffries Mayberry--for our readers
+must have already recognized the Indian agent--never knew less fear than
+he experienced as he stood at that moment, captive among a dangerous
+tribe, rendered doubly formidable as they were by copious doses of
+cheap liquor and religious frenzy. The Indian agent knew well that the
+rattlers which the young braves were beheading were far less harmful
+than the human beings, of whom he was, perhaps, the only self-possessed
+one in that rocky bowl.
+
+But if Jeffries Mayberry gazed on the ceremonies with contempt, mingled
+with pity, there was another in the valley who regarded them with almost
+similar feelings. That person was Black Cloud. The old chieftain had
+made as stiff a fight as he dared for Jeffries Mayberry's liberation,
+but had been hooted and jeered down. Diamond Snake was now in full
+control of the passions and adulation of the tribe, and Black Cloud, the
+only friend Jeffries Mayberry had within it, at that moment gazed
+powerlessly on the snake dance. One friendly turn, however, he had been
+able to do for his white friend, and that was to dispatch the messenger
+to the ranch of Mr. Harkness. But as Black Cloud, not daring to raise a
+voice of protest, gazed on the dance, his mind was busy with intense
+speculation. Even in the event of Mr. Harkness having been reached, it
+was doubtful if the rancher would arrive in time. The old Indian
+recognized the symptoms of an approaching climax in the ceremonies, and
+what that climax was to be he guessed only too well. No white man had
+ever seen the snake dance of the Moquis and lived to tell of it, if his
+presence were known. That Jeffries Mayberry was to share the fate of
+many another unfortunate victim in the tribe's past history, was what
+Black Cloud feared. That his fears were well grounded we shall presently
+see.
+
+Suddenly the frenzy died down with the same rapidity with which it had
+arisen. Above the rim of the rocky basin the silvery edge of the new
+moon had shown. The height of the excitement was at hand.
+
+Diamond Snake stepped forward from his place in the row of chanters and
+began to address the tribe in a high, not unmusical voice. As Jeffries
+Mayberry gazed at his almost faultless form, gleaming like polished
+bronze in the glare of the fiery pit, he realized what an influence
+this fine-looking, fiery young Indian must sway among his people. His
+talk was listened to with deep attention, and seemed to be impassioned
+and fervid to the last degree.
+
+Although Diamond Snake spoke fast in his excitement, the Indian agent
+managed to pick out enough of the sense here and there to make out that,
+as he had suspected, he himself was the subject of the chief's address.
+
+Had he been in any doubt of this, his uncertainty would soon have been
+dissipated, for all at once every eye in that assemblage was turned on
+him with a baleful, malignant glare. If Jeffries Mayberry had ever felt
+one ray of hope, it died out of even his brave heart in that instant.
+
+"Well, I guess Indians are all they say they are, after all," he thought
+to himself. "Just to think that, after all I've done for those rascals,
+they've no more gratitude for me than that! Go on, stare away!"
+
+Jeffries Mayberry fairly shouted these last words.
+
+"I wish, though," he continued to himself, while the young chief's voice
+went on addressing his people, "I wish, though, that they'd turned
+Ranger loose. I kind of hate to think of him ever being an Indian's
+horse, for of all maltreaters of horse flesh, they are the worst."
+
+He turned his head--the only portion of his body which was free to
+move--and gazed back into the shadows where he knew Ranger was tied. For
+hours after his capture the splendid horse had fretted and raged, but
+now he had grown quiet.
+
+"Poor old fellow, they've broken his spirit!" thought Jeffries Mayberry.
+Which goes to show--in the light of what was to come--that a man can get
+"pretty close," as the saying is, to a horse and yet not know him.
+
+Mayberry could not forbear winking back a little moisture that arose in
+his eyes as he saw the well-known form of his horse dimly outlined in
+the darkness behind him. Ranger's head was abjectly hanging down. His
+whole attitude spoke dejection. As Jeffries Mayberry had said, the
+horse indeed seemed to be spirit-broken.
+
+All at once, while Mayberry's mind was busy with these thoughts, the
+young chief ceased his oratory, and the moment for action appeared at
+last to have arrived. With a concerted yell, the band of naked warriors
+who had chanted the solemn ritual of the snake dance rushed at the
+Indian agent. Even in that trying moment he did not flinch. He gazed at
+them unmoved, as they cast him loose from the post, and then instantly
+rebound his hands. His legs, however, they left free.
+
+Strange to say, the dominant feeling in Jeffries Mayberry's mind at that
+moment was one of curiosity. He wondered what they were going to do with
+him. For one instant a shudder passed through his frame. The fiery pit!
+Could they mean to thrust him into that?
+
+Such, however, was evidently not their intention, for they led him round
+to the farther side of the glowing coals, past the rows of seated
+Indians and squaws, who growled and spat at him as he passed.
+
+"You ungrateful bunch of dogs!" shouted Mayberry, fairly stung into
+speech. "I hope after I'm gone you'll get what is coming to you!"
+
+If only the soldiers would come, he thought; but realized that without
+him to guide them it would take the troopers hours, perhaps days, to
+find the secret valley. No, there was no hope from that quarter. It
+should be explained here that, although Mr. Mayberry knew about the
+Indian messenger, he had little faith in the ultimate arrival of Mr.
+Harkness and the Boy Scouts. They _might_ come, but it would be too
+late. However, any one would judge Jeffries Mayberry's character very
+much awry who should conclude that there was any bitterness in his soul.
+He accepted his fate as a brave man should, without complaint.
+
+"Now what are they going to do?" he thought, as the young braves, having
+led him past the hissing, spitting ranks of the squaws, arraigned him
+close to the edge of the pit, which now lay between him and the crowd
+of cruel faces beyond. His eyes pierced the darkness keenly, but the
+glare thrown up at his feet prevented him seeing whether or not Ranger
+still occupied his same position.
+
+Jeffries Mayberry was not to be left long in doubt as to what his fate
+was to be. A shudder ran through even his strong soul as he saw what the
+inhuman ingenuity of the Moquis had contrived for his execution.
+
+His legs, which had remained free, were rapidly bound, and he was
+forcibly thrown upon his face. As he measured his length, the chanting
+began once more, and the hand of Diamond Snake himself dived into the
+biggest of the earthen snake jars. He withdrew it, clasping the largest
+rattler that Jeffries Mayberry had ever seen,--an immense creature of
+the diamond-back species, fully eight feet long.
+
+As Mayberry's eyes encountered the leaden glint of the deadly rattler's
+dull orbs, he felt that this was the beginning of the end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE.
+
+
+Amid wild yells from the assemblage on the farther side of the pit, the
+young brave who had attained temporary ascendency over the tribe cast
+the snake down on the ground before the recumbent form of the Indian
+agent. The reptile at first appeared dazed, and made no move, hostile or
+otherwise. Presently, however, as a deep hush fell over the Indians
+gazing on the scene, the creature began to sound his rattle.
+
+It was a dull, "horny" sound, like the rattling of dried peas in a
+bladder. The veins on Mayberry's forehead swelled as he made a desperate
+effort to burst his bonds, but the green hide held like iron, and he
+realized that all resistance was useless. Breathing a prayer, he
+resigned himself for what was to follow. Suddenly the serpent seemed to
+become endowed with furious rage. It lashed its mottled tail, and then
+carefully gauging its distance from the captive, coiled itself for the
+death strike.
+
+Not a sound was to be heard above the deep, expectant hush, as the red
+glow fell on the strange, cruel scene: the agonized man, helpless, and
+the flat, triangular head of the deadly reptile, drawn back as if to
+give greater force to its death blow.
+
+The Indian agent, as he had abundantly shown, was no coward, nor was his
+a heart to be stirred by any ordinary ordeal. But the cruel suspense
+that now ensued broke down even his iron nerves. As he gazed like a
+fascinated bird into the leaden eyes of the menacing rattler, his
+courage faltered, and he uttered a despairing cry.
+
+It was answered by a cruel jeer from the frenzied Indians. In the tense
+excitement none of them had, however, noticed the first moves in an act
+that was destined presently to change the whole complexion of the scene.
+
+Old Black Cloud knew that the agent's heart was wrapped up in his horse.
+So far as any one knew, Mayberry had neither relative nor close friend
+in the world. In the Indian's eyes, then, the captive would surely wish
+his horse near him in the hour of his doom.
+
+For one as skilled in silent movement as the old chief, it was an easy
+matter to slip from his place in the shadows at the rear of the
+fascinated horde, and with a couple of deft strokes of his knife set
+Ranger at liberty. Then he silently stole back, and was seated in his
+former place in a less space of time than it took Ranger to realize that
+he was free.
+
+The captive's despairing cry reached the horse's ears, and he knew his
+master's voice.
+
+While the mocking laugh of the tribe was still echoing from the rocks,
+four iron-shod hoofs struck the earth in a mighty leap, and Ranger
+alighted heavily in the midst of the amazed throng. With yells and cries
+of terror, the Indians, who did not know what had occurred, were bowled
+over right and left. One young brave lay groaning with a pair of broken
+ribs. Another's arm was snapped where Ranger's hoofs had struck.
+
+Without pausing one instant, the animal, whose only anxiety was to reach
+Jeffries Mayberry's side, once more shook his head and, with a shrill
+whinny, sprang forward. This leap brought him over the heads of the red
+men, to the very brink of the fiery pit.
+
+Overcoming his natural dread of fire--a far greater terror to horses
+than almost any other--Ranger gathered his clean-cut limbs for a mighty
+leap. In one clean jump he cleared the glowing coals. Diamond Snake and
+his attendant masters of ceremonies had not, in the brief space of time
+allotted to them for comprehension, made out what was occurring on the
+opposite side of the pit.
+
+They had not the slightest warning, therefore, when, through the lurid
+glow, the form of Ranger, crimsoned by the reflection, came leaping like
+a thunderbolt.
+
+Over went Diamond Snake, toppling backward to avoid the terrible hoofs.
+With a yell of superstitious terror, the other "priests" gave way.
+Right and left they ran, shouting that the Great Spirit had sent an
+infernal messenger among them.
+
+But above all the shrieks, and confusion, and angry shouts rang out one
+terrible cry. It issued from the lips of Diamond Snake. The hind hoofs
+of the alighting horse had struck him, and, as has been said, he toppled
+backward.
+
+Too late he saw behind him the glowing pit of fiery coals. Nerving every
+muscle in his sinewy frame, the young Moqui warrior strove to avert his
+doom, but try as he would he could not check his impetus.
+
+He reached the edge of the pit, and with one dreadful cry pitched over
+backward. For a brief space the red glow grew blackened where he had
+fallen, but an instant later the intense heat had consumed him, and
+nothing remained to mark the end of the ambitious young Moqui.
+
+At the moment that Ranger had alighted, the rattlesnake, terrified by
+the near proximity of the trampling hoofs, released its body as if a
+steel spring had been set free, and gave its death strike. But as the
+poison-laden fangs drove toward him, Jeffries Mayberry jerked his head
+to one side. The rattler had missed. Before it could gather itself for a
+second attack, it lay, a trampled mass, under Ranger's hoofs. The horse
+whinnied with pleasure as it gazed at its master. Then it stamped with
+impatience as it received no response. For the first and last time in
+his life, Jeffries Mayberry had fainted.
+
+With a howl of rage, like the angry voice of a storm, the Moquis,
+gathering up their weapons, rushed forward to avenge themselves for the
+tragic death of Diamond Snake. But they had not reached the edge of the
+fiery pit before a loud cry halted them. It was Black Cloud. The old
+Indian stood upright upon a bowlder, and pointed to the entrance of the
+rocky bowl.
+
+"Now will my brothers listen to the voice of reason?" he shouted above
+the tumult.
+
+A chorus of jeers and shouts greeted him. The mind of the tribe was a
+single one in that moment. The death of Jeffries Mayberry, in the same
+pit as that into which his steed had cast the popular young Diamond
+Snake, was their raging desire.
+
+"Then look!" rang out the voice of Black Cloud, as he pointed to the
+rocky path at the westerly side of the bowl.
+
+As the eyes of the redskins followed the patriarch's pointing finger, a
+perfect howl went up once more. The moonlight illumined the figure of a
+solitary horseman.
+
+A score of rifles were instantly leveled at him, but as the weapons came
+to the marksmen's shoulders, the lone rider vanished as suddenly as he
+had appeared.
+
+"Fools!" shouted Black Cloud, as the Moquis, with cries of rage, pressed
+on to Jeffries Mayberry's side, "that horseman is the forerunner of the
+white man's vengeance!"
+
+As he spoke, a rifle cracked, and the noble old chief vanished from the
+rock. Apparently a bullet from the rifle of one of his own followers had
+felled him. But, as a matter of fact, Black Cloud, with native cunning,
+had perceived that in the mood his rebellious followers then were, his
+safest plan was to keep out of sight. As the bullet hummed past his
+ear, therefore, he toppled from the rock as if dead. From behind the big
+bowlder he watched the events that were to follow.
+
+A young brave, anxious to earn the plaudits of his tribesmen by being
+the instrument of vengeance on Mayberry, rushed forward, and throwing
+himself on the unconscious man, seized him by the waist and was about to
+swing him into the flaming pit, when, with a shrill whinny of rage,
+Ranger's forefeet struck him down. He lay breathing heavily, an ugly
+wound gaping in his head. As if maddened by this, the great horse
+plunged, striking and kicking, into the crowd of hated Indians, bowling
+over and injuring several. But the temporary panic thus created lasted
+but a minute.
+
+A volley was fired at the noble figure of the raging horse, and he fell,
+still fighting, by his master's side.
+
+At the same instant a young redskin sprang forward with an uplifted
+"agency" axe. He raised it above his head, and was about to bury it in
+the horse's skull, when something struck the axe and sent it whizzing
+out of his hand. Simultaneously a sharp crack sounded from the upper end
+of the rock bowl.
+
+Shouts of alarm sounded on all sides. The Moquis realized they were
+attacked, and that it was a bullet that had sent the axe spinning out of
+the murderous young brave's hand.
+
+"Hooray!"
+
+The cry rang out loudly above the Indian whoops and cries, as Rob Blake
+swept down the rocky trail, followed by the Boy Scouts, cheering as if
+their throats would split.
+
+Right and left the Moquis went down under their ponies' hoofs, too
+terrified by the very suddenness of the attack to offer any resistance.
+A few half-hearted shots were fired, and one or two sombreros were
+drilled, but, aside from that, no one was injured. The arrival of Mr.
+Harkness and his cow-punchers ended what little resistance there had
+been. It was soon over, and the Moquis herded in a sullen, defiant band
+at the lower end of the bowl.
+
+Rob and his friends hastened forward to Jeffries Mayberry's side, and
+cut his bonds; and the first thing that the rescued man gazed upon when
+he recovered consciousness was a circle of friendly faces.
+
+"Well, Mayberry," burst out Mr. Harkness, "I told you so. I hate to say
+it, but I told you so. If it hadn't been for the Boy Scouts here, we'd
+never have saved you."
+
+"No, I guess not, Harkness," breathed the agent, "and this is not the
+place to tell you all how I feel. But, but----"
+
+His voice faltered as he gazed at Ranger, who still lay on the ground.
+Blinky and some of the cow-punchers had been examining his injuries.
+
+"Is Ranger seriously hurt?"
+
+The agent's throat sounded dry. He could hardly bring himself to ask the
+question.
+
+"No, he'll be around in a while," announced Blinky; "only a tendon on
+the off front leg is sprained. He'll carry a few scars, though."
+
+And so it proved, for, though Ranger was soon as well as ever, he
+carried with him to his last days the marks of that night. But his
+owner, as you may imagine, treasured every one of them, for each blemish
+spoke to him of his horse's affection and nobility.
+
+"Hullo, here come the soldiers!" exclaimed Tubby suddenly, with that
+fleshy youth's usual indifferent manner.
+
+A bugle call and a loud cheer announced the news at the same moment.
+
+"So they are!" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry, who by this time was standing
+upright, although he still had to lean weakly on the shoulder of Mr.
+Harkness.
+
+"A good thing you didn't wait for them," remarked Blinky; "they'd have
+come too late."
+
+"That was not their fault," put in Mr. Harkness. "The messenger I sent
+to Sentinel Peak could not have reached there more than an hour or two
+ago. They must have ridden like the wind."
+
+Indeed, as the bronzed troopers clattered, cheering, into the rocky
+basin, their steaming, dripping horses bore ample testimony to the pace
+they had kept up.
+
+"Confounded luck, arriving just too late for the music!" exclaimed the
+young officer at their head, after first greetings had been exchanged.
+"I see, though, that you have handled the situation well."
+
+"Yes, thanks to the Boy Scouts," said Mr. Harkness.
+
+"Ah, that is an organization of which I have often heard," observed the
+soldier. "They are destined to do great work for our country in the
+future."
+
+"We hope so," said Rob simply.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Little more is left to be told of the Boy Scouts' adventures on the
+range. The rebellious Moquis, thoroughly cowed by their lesson, went
+peaceably back to the reservation, and accepted Black Cloud once more as
+their chief. Their break from the place set aside for them, though, was
+paid for by the stoppage of more than one privilege. In course of time
+Mr. Mayberry recovered some of his faith in the Indian character, but
+even he admits that his optimism has been severely shaken.
+
+Possibly, if you were to pay a visit to the tribe, you might be tempted
+to ask who a certain graceful young squaw is, whose buckskin garments
+are literally covered with wonderful bead work, and round whose slender
+neck hang so many chains of red, yellow, amber and blue globules that
+you might be inclined to think it would make her stoop-shouldered.
+
+If you asked her her name you would be told that she is Susyjan. She is
+regarded as the most attractive young squaw in the tribe, and her
+fortunate husband will have to give her old father many ponies and
+blankets before he can hope to win her hand. The source of Susyjan's
+beady splendor, however, has always, as you may imagine, remained a
+mystery to the tribe.
+
+Clark Jennings and his unworthy accomplices were tried in due course for
+their offenses against the law, and received various heavy sentences. In
+a Western community few more serious crimes, for obvious reasons, can
+be committed than cattle stealing.
+
+The days following the surrender of the renegade tribe were happy ones
+for the young Eastern scouts. In due course of time, the uniforms Rob
+had ordered for the Ranger Patrol arrived, and the organization is now
+one of the most flourishing in the B. S. of A.
+
+Hunting trips were organized and many excursions made into the
+mountains. The boys, too, shared in the excitement of a round-up, and
+proved themselves of use in many ways. Altogether, the Boy Scouts has
+become a name to conjure with in that part of Arizona.
+
+What became of Silver Tip?
+
+Well, the story of how Rob had Silver Tip at his mercy, and let the huge
+brute go, has become a ranch classic. This is no place to relate it at
+length, but one day on a mountain hunt the monarch of the hills and the
+boy who had once rushed wildly upon the monster's shaggy form, met face
+to face.
+
+Did Silver Tip recognize the lad? Who can tell? Animals possess many
+faculties and instincts we do not credit them with. Be that as it may,
+it seemed to the imaginative Rob that the monster's eyes bore a craven
+look, as if he realized that judgment was come upon him. Rob stood alone
+upon a rocky ledge. Below him the great brute gazed upward, in the
+position he had frozen into on his first discovery of the young hunter.
+Rob raised his heavy rifle to his shoulder. The great creature was at
+his mercy. He paused an instant and then slowly lowered the weapon
+again.
+
+"Go on, old Silver Tip!" he said. "Let some one else wipe out your
+wicked old life."
+
+Tubby was highly indignant when he heard of this.
+
+"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you ought to have thought of me, Rob. I've
+been hearing about bear steak ever since I've been out here, and now
+I've lost about the only chance I've ever had to stick my teeth into
+one."
+
+One day a letter came to the ranch house which caused several long faces
+to be drawn. It announced the opening, within a week, of the Hampton
+Academy.
+
+And so--as all good things have to draw to a close--the happy, eventful
+days of the Boy Scouts on the Range ended. But had they realized it, the
+exciting scenes through which they had passed were only a milestone in
+their adventurous lives.
+
+We shall meet our young friends again, and follow them through many more
+stirring incidents and scenes in the next volume of this series. Some of
+these will be connected with the wonderful new science of ærial
+navigation.
+
+This new installment of their adventures will be called: THE BOY
+SCOUTS AND THE ARMY AIRSHIP.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+=Reasons why you should obtain a Catalogue of our Publications=
+
+_A postal to us will place it in your hands._
+
+
+1. You will possess a comprehensive and classified list of all the best
+standard books published, at prices less than offered by others.
+
+2. You will find listed in our catalogue books on every topic: Poetry,
+Fiction, Romance, Travel, Adventure, Humor, Science, History, Religion,
+Biography, Drama, etc., besides Dictionaries and Manuals, Bibles,
+Recitation and Hand Books, Sets, Octavos, Presentation Books and
+Juvenile and Nursery Literature in immense variety.
+
+3. You will be able to purchase books at prices within your reach; as
+low as 10 cents for paper covered books, to $5.00 for books bound in
+cloth or leather, adaptable for gift and presentation purposes, to suit
+the tastes of the most critical.
+
+4. You will save considerable money by taking advantage of our
+SPECIAL DISCOUNTS, which we offer to those whose purchases are
+large enough to warrant us in making a reduction.
+
+HURST & CO., _Publishers_, 395, 397, 399 Broadway, New York.
+
+
+
+
+BOY SCOUT SERIES
+
+BY
+
+LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON
+
+MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS
+
+Cloth Bound Price, 50¢ per volume.
+
+
+=The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol.=
+
+A fascinating narrative of the doings of some bright boys who become
+part of the great Boy Scout movement. The first of a series dealing with
+this organization, which has caught on like wild fire among healthy boys
+of all ages and in all parts of the country.
+
+While in no sense a text-book, the volume deals, amid its exciting
+adventures, with the practical side of Scouting. To Rob Blake and his
+companions in the Eagle Patrol, surprising, and sometimes perilous
+things happen constantly. But the lads, who are, after all, typical of
+most young Americans of their type, are resourceful enough to overcome
+every one of their dangers and difficulties.
+
+How they discover the whereabouts of little Joe, the "kid" of the
+patrol, by means of smoke telegraphy and track his abductors to their
+disgrace; how they assist the passengers of a stranded steamer and foil
+a plot to harm and perhaps kill an aged sea-captain, one must read the
+book to learn. A swift-moving narrative of convincing interest and
+breathless incident.
+
+Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.
+
+Hurst & Co., Publishers New York
+
+
+
+
+BOY SCOUT SERIES
+
+BY
+
+LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON
+
+MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS
+
+Cloth Bound, Price 50¢ per volume.
+
+
+=The Boy Scouts on the Range.=
+
+Connected with the dwellings of the vanished race of cliff-dwellers was
+a mystery. Who so fit to solve it as a band of adventurous Boy Scouts?
+The solving of the secret and the routing of a bold band of cattle
+thieves involved Rob Blake and his chums, including "Tubby" Hopkins, in
+grave difficulties.
+
+There are few boys who have not read of the weird snake dance and other
+tribal rites of Moquis. In this volume, the habits of these fast
+vanishing Indians are explained in interesting detail. Few boys' books
+hold more thrilling chapters than those concerning Rob's captivity among
+the Moquis.
+
+Through the fascinating pages of the narrative also stalks, like a grim
+figure of impending tragedy, the shaggy form of Silver Tip, the giant
+grizzly. In modern juvenile writing, there is little to be found as
+gripping as the scene in which Rob and Silver Tip meet face to face. The
+boy is weaponless and,--but it would not be fair to divulge the
+termination of the battle. A book which all Boy Scouts should secure and
+place upon their shelves to be read and re-read.
+
+Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.
+
+Hurst & Co., Publishers New York
+
+
+
+
+Bungalow Boys Series
+
+BY
+
+DEXTER J. FORRESTER
+
+NEW MODERN STORIES OF OUTDOOR LIFE.
+
+Cloth Bound Price, 50¢ per volume.
+
+
+=THE BUNGALOW BOYS.=
+
+The first of a new up-to-date series concerning the absorbing doings of
+Tom and Jack Dacre and their chums of Audubon Academy. The lure of the
+big woods and the call of the rod and gun are delightfully set forth in
+these volumes.
+
+The first one deals with life in the wilder parts of Maine. Wild as the
+region into which the boys penetrate, accompanied by their professor,
+turns out to be, they find that there are bold, unscrupulous enemies
+even there. Nate Trulliber and his son Jeff prove to be formidable
+neighbors in more senses than one.
+
+For instance the lost lead vein which is one of the objects of the boys'
+quest is associated in a strange way with this Trulliber and his evil
+companions. The plots of these men are, however, frustrated in a clever
+manner by the boys; but not without their involving themselves in grave
+difficulties. Danger too threatens them, as notably when Tom is
+imprisoned in the mountain cave with every prospect of being speedily
+drowned if help does not soon come. The source from which aid finally
+proceeds is as mysterious as the character of the lonely hermit who for
+a time is mistaken by the boys for an enemy. Not until the end of the
+book do they learn how utterly they were mistaken, in his character.
+
+Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.
+
+HURST & CO., Publishers NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+Dreadnought Boys Series
+
+BY
+
+Capt. WILBUR LAWTON.
+
+=Modern Stories of the New Navy.=
+
+Cloth Bound Price, 50¢ per volume.
+
+
+=The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice.=
+
+How many times have you paused to gaze provided you live in a maritime
+town of course, at Uncle Sam's grim, gray sea-fighters swinging at their
+anchors, or steaming majestically by? Haven't you thought then that you
+would like to know something of the lives of the servers of their
+country who pass the best part of their adventurous lives within those
+steel walls?
+
+There are no books published which will tell you more of the new
+navy,--of the men, the ships, the huge guns, the submarine auxiliaries
+and all the hundred and one things that go to make up the fascination of
+the naval seaman's life, than these volumes.
+
+In the first volume of the series which bears the above title Ned Strong
+and Herc Taylor make their debut in Uncle Sam's navy. Of course they
+have to endure much rough joking. Ned, however, proves so handy with his
+fists in a notable set-to with the ship's bully that the boys soon set
+themselves on a footing. From that moment on adventures come thick and
+fast. At target practice Herc--by a mean trick of his enemy becomes a
+living target for a twelve inch gun. A flare-back in the forward turret
+of the Dreadnought on which they are serving gives the lads their
+longed-for opportunity to show the stuff they are made of. Real books
+for real boys.
+
+Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.
+
+HURST & CO., Publishers NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+Motor Rangers Series
+
+By MARVIN WEST
+
+OUTDOOR LIFE STORIES FOR MODERN BOYS
+
+Cloth Bound Price, 50¢ per volume.
+
+
+=The Motor Rangers' Lost Mine.=
+
+A new series dealing with an idea altogether original in juvenile
+fiction,--the adventures of a party of bright, enterprising youngsters
+in a splendid motor car. Their first trip takes them to the dim and
+mysterious land of Lower California.
+
+Naturally, as one would judge from the title, the lost mine, which
+proves to be Nat Trevor's rightful inheritance,--occupies much of the
+interest of the book. But the mine was in the possession of enemies so
+powerful and wealthy that it taxed the boys' resources to the uttermost
+to overcome them. How they did so makes absorbing reading.
+
+In this book also, the young motor rangers solve the mystery of the
+haunted Mexican cabin, and exterminate for all time a strange terror of
+the mountains which has almost devastated a part of the peninsula.
+
+The Motor Rangers too, have an exciting encounter with Mexican cowboys,
+which beginning comically, comes very near having a serious termination
+for all hands. Emphatically "third speed" books.
+
+Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. Hurst & Co., Publishers New York
+
+
+
+
+The Oakdale Series
+
+By Morgan Scott
+
+HIGH CLASS COPYRIGHTED STORIES FOR BOYS
+
+Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 60¢ a Volume
+
+
+=Ben Stone at Oakdale=
+
+BY MORGAN SCOTT
+
+12MO., CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. PRICE 60¢
+
+Never in the history of juvenile fiction have copyrighted books of this
+class been sold at a price so sensational, for beyond dispute the
+Oakdale Stories are of the highest grade, such as other publishers
+market to retail at $1.25 or $1.50 a volume. In no respect, save in
+price, can these be designated as cheap books; in manufacture, in
+literary finish, and in the clean, healthy, yet fascinating, nature of
+the stories they are destined to take rank with the works of the masters
+of fiction for the modern youth. The first volume is a narrative of
+school life and football, which, while in no way sensational will cast a
+spell almost hypnotic upon every young reader, from which he will find
+it impossible to escape until he has read through to the last word of
+the last chapter. The tale of the struggles of Ben Stone, a boy
+misunderstood, an outcast, a pariah, will excite the sympathy of all;
+and his final triumph over adversity, the scheming of an enemy, and the
+seemingly malign rebuffs of fate, will be hailed with joy.
+
+FOR SALE WHEREVER BOOKS ARE SOLD, OR SENT POSTPAID UPON RECEIPT OF 60¢
+BY
+
+HURST & COMPANY, 395 Broadway, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+The Oakdale Series
+
+By Morgan Scott
+
+
+High Class Copyrighted Stories for Boys
+
+Cloth Bound
+
+Illustrated
+
+Price, 60 cents a Volume
+
+
+=Boys of Oakdale Academy=
+
+by Morgan Scott
+
+12mo., cloth. Illustrated. Price, 60¢
+
+This is a brisk, vigorous, snappy, story in which winter
+sports--snowshoeing, skating, rabbit hunting, and such--are features. In
+the tale Rodney Grant, a young Texas cowboy, appears at Oakdale and
+attends the academy, being adjudged an imposter by the New England lads,
+who entertain a mistaken notion that all Texans swagger and bluster and
+talk in the vernacular. As Grant is quiet and gentlemanly in his bearing
+and will not, for some mysterious reason, take part in certain violent
+sports, they erroneously imagine him to be a coward; but eventually,
+through the demands of necessity and force of circumstances, the fellow
+from Texas is led to prove himself, which he does in a most effective
+manner, becoming, for the time being, at least, the hero of the village.
+This is a story of vigorous, healthy boys and their likes and dislikes;
+it is brimming over with human nature and, while true to real life, is
+as fascinating as the most imaginative yarn of adventure.
+
+For sale wherever books are sold, or sent postpaid upon receipt of 60¢
+by
+Hurst & Co., 395 Broadway, New York
+
+
+
+    +----------------------------------------------+
+    |             Transcriber's Note:              |
+    |                                              |
+    | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the |
+    | original document have been preserved.       |
+    |                                              |
+    | Typographical errors corrected in the text:  |
+    |                                              |
+    | Page   26  Samuri changed to Samurai         |
+    | Page   89  struck changed to stuck           |
+    | Page  113  Charlie changed to Charley        |
+    | Page  151  croked changed to croaked         |
+    | Page  206  Jenning's changed to Jennings's   |
+    | Page  226  earthern changed to earthen       |
+    | Page  243  fandangoes changed to fandangos   |
+    | Page  297  safeest changed to safest         |
+    +----------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boy Scouts On The Range, by 
+Lieut. Howard Payson
+
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+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Boy Scouts on The Range, by Lieut. Howard Payson.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+    p {  margin-top: .5em;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .5em;
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+
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+   </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts On The Range, by Lieut. Howard Payson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Boy Scouts On The Range
+
+Author: Lieut. Howard Payson
+
+Release Date: January 25, 2011 [EBook #35071]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Barbara Kosker and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
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+</pre>
+
+
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<h1> THE<br />
+ <span class="smcap">Boy Scouts On
+ The Range</span></h1>
+
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<h4> BY</h4>
+
+<h2>LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON</h2>
+
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<h4> NEW YORK<br />
+ HURST &amp; COMPANY<br />
+ PUBLISHERS</h4>
+
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<h4>Copyright, 1911,<br />
+BY<br />
+HURST &amp; COMPANY<br />
+</h4>
+
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>
+<br />
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="70%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents">
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdl" width="12%" style="font-size: 80%;">CHAPTER</td>
+  <td class="tdl" width="78%">&nbsp;</td>
+  <td class="tdr" width="10%" style="font-size: 80%;">PAGE</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">I.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">Rob Surprises a Cow-puncher</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">II.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">News of the Moquis</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">III.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">The Desert Water Hole</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">IV.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">Silver Tip Appears</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">V.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">At the Harkness Ranch</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">VI.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">A Boy Scout "Broncho Buster"</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">VII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">The Stampede at the Far Pasture</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">VIII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">Hemmed in by the Herd</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">IX.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">The Home of a Vanished Race</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">X.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">The Ghost of the Cave Dwelling</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XI.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">Captured by Moquis</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">Tubby's Peril</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XIII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">A Friend in Need</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XIV.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">A Toboggan to Disaster</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XV.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">What Became of the Scout?</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XVI.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">Blinky Spoils a Sombrero</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XVII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">In the Clutches of the Grizzly</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XVIII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">The Indian Agent</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XIX.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">Black Cloud's Visit</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XX.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">The Watchers of the Trail</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XXI.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">The Maverick Raid</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XXII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">Clark Jennings Gets a Surprise</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XXIII.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">The Worshippers of the Snake</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdrp">XXIV.</td>
+  <td class="tdl smcap">Boy Scouts to the Rescue</td>
+  <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h1>The Boy Scouts on the Range.</h1>
+
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h2>ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>Northward from Truxton, Arizona, the desert stretches a red-hot, sandy
+arm, the elbow of which crooks about several arid ranges of baked hills
+clothed with a scanty growth of chaparral. Across this sun-bitten
+solitude of sand and sage brush extend two parallel steel lines&mdash;the
+branch of the Southern Pacific which at Truxton takes a bold plunge into
+the white solitudes of the dry country.</p>
+
+<p>Scattered few and far between on the monotonous level are desert towns,
+overtopped by lofty water tanks, perched on steel towers, in the place
+of trees, and sun-baked like everything else in the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>"great sandy."
+These isolated communities, the railroad serves. Twice a day, with the
+deliberate pace of the Gila Monster, a dusty train of three cars, drawn
+by a locomotive of obsolete pattern,&mdash;which has been not inaptly
+compared to a tailor's goose with a fire in it&mdash;makes its slow way.</p>
+
+<p>Rumbling through a gloomy, rock-walled cut traversing the barren range
+of the Sierra Tortilla, the railroad emerges&mdash;after much bumping through
+scorched foothills and rattling over straddle-legged trestles above dry
+arroyos&mdash;at Mesaville. Mesaville stands on the south bank of the San
+Pedro, a scanty branch of the Gila River. To the south of this little
+desert community, across the quivering stretches of glaring sand and
+mesquite, there hangs always a blue cloud&mdash;the Santa Catapina Range.</p>
+
+<p>The blazing noonday sun lay smitingly over Mesaville and the inhabitants
+of that town, when on a September day the dust-powdered train before
+referred to drew up groaningly at the depot, and from one of its forward
+cars there <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>emerged three boys of a type strange to the primitive
+settlement.</p>
+
+<p>The eldest of the three, a boy of about seventeen, whom his two friends
+addressed as Rob, was Rob Blake, whom readers of the Boy Scouts of the
+Eagle Patrol&mdash;the first volume of this series&mdash;have met before. His
+companions were Corporal Merritt Crawford of the same patrol, and the
+rotund Tubby Hopkins, the son of widow Hopkins of Hampton, Long Island,
+from which village all three, in fact, came.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, here we are at Mesaville."</p>
+
+<p>Rob Blake gazed across the hot tracks at the row of raw buildings
+opposite as he spoke, and the town gazed back in frank curiosity at him.
+Opposite the depot was a small hotel, on the porch of which several
+figures had been seated with their chairs tilted back, and their feet on
+the rail, as the train rolled in.</p>
+
+<p>As it pulled out again, leaving the boys and an imposing pile of baggage
+exposed to the view of the Mesavillians, six pairs of feet were removed
+from the porch-rails as if by machinery, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>and their several owners bent
+forward in a frank stare at the newcomers.</p>
+
+<p>"Must think a circus has come to town," commented Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they know where to look for the elephant," teased Merritt
+mischievously.</p>
+
+<p>"And for the laughing hyena, too, I guess," parried the fat youth, as
+the corporal went off into a paroxysm of suddenly checked laughter.</p>
+
+<p>The boys had bought sombreros at Truxton, and in their baggage was
+clothing of the kind which Harry Harkness&mdash;at whose invitation they had
+come to this part of the country&mdash;had advised them to buy. But as they
+still wore their light summer suits of Eastern cut and make, their
+generally "different" look from the members of the Mesaville Hotel
+Loungers' Association was quite sufficient to excite the attention of
+the latter.</p>
+
+<p>Readers of the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol will recall that in that
+book was related the formation of the patrol at Hampton Harbor, L. I.,
+and how it had been effected. How the boys of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>the patrol had many
+opportunities to show that they were true scouts was also told. Notably
+was this so in the incident of the stolen uniforms, in which the boys'
+enemies, Jack Curtiss, Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft, a disreputable
+old town character, were implicated.</p>
+
+<p>It will also be remembered that while encamped on an island near their
+home village, the Boy Scouts put off in a motor dory to the rescue of a
+stranded cattle ship on which Mr. Harkness, a cattle rancher, and his
+son Harry, a lad of the boys' own age, were returning from London,
+whither they had just taken a big consignment of stock. In return for
+their services, including the summoning of aid by wireless, Mr. Harkness
+invited the boys to spend some time on his cattle range. What
+adventurous boys would not have leaped at the invitation? But for a time
+it appeared as if it would be impossible for Rob and his chums to accept
+it, owing to the fact that the Hampton Academy, which they all attended,
+resumed its school term early in the fall.</p>
+
+<p>Just at this time, however, something happened <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>which was very welcome
+to all three of the Scouts. Serious defects had been discovered in the
+foundation of the Academy, and it had been decided that it would be
+unsafe for the scholars to reassemble till these had been remedied. It
+was estimated that the work would take two months or more. Thus it had
+come about that the invitation of Mr. Harkness was accepted. To the
+boys' regret, however, only the members of the Patrol who stood that day
+on the platform at Mesaville had been able to obtain the consent of
+their parents to take the long, and to Eastern eyes, hazardous, trip.</p>
+
+<p>Arrangements had been made by letter for Harry Harkness, the rancher's
+son, to meet the boys at Mesaville, but the train had rolled in and
+rolled out again without his putting in an appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe Harry fell in that river and was drowned," suggested Tubby,
+pointing ahead down the tracks to the trestle crossing the San Pedro
+River. At this time of the year the so-called river was a mere trickle
+of mud-colored <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>water, threading its way between high, sandy banks. The
+boys burst into a laugh at the idea of any one's drowning in it.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll be here before long," said Rob confidently. "It's a drive of more
+than fifty miles to the ranch, remember, and we can't start out till
+to-morrow morning, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>Just then a white-aproned Chinaman appeared on the porch of the hotel
+and vigorously rang a bell. At the signal the lounging cow-punchers and
+plainsmen rose languidly from their chairs and bolted into the
+dining-room. From the few stores also appeared the merchants of
+Mesaville, most of whom lived at the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>"Sounds like dinner," remarked Tubby hopefully, sniffing the air on
+which an odor of food was wafted across the tracks. "Smells like it,
+too."</p>
+
+<p>"Trust Tubby to detect grub," laughed Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"He's a culinary Sherlock Holmes," declared Merritt, but his remark was
+made to Rob alone, for Tubby was beyond the reach of his sarcasm. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>He
+had started at once to cross the tracks and find the dining-room.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea to have something to eat while we're
+waiting," said Rob. "Let's go over."</p>
+
+<p>Tubby was already installed in a seat at the long table when his chums
+entered. He had in front of him a plate of soup, on the top of which
+floated a sort of upper crust of grease. From time to time an
+investigating fly ventured too near the edge and was miserably drowned.
+It was Tubby's initiation into desert hotel life, and he didn't look as
+if he was enjoying it.</p>
+
+<p>On both sides of the table, however, the cow-punchers, teamsters, and
+Mesaville commercial lights, were shoveling away their food without the
+flicker of an eyelash. Opposite to Tubby were seated two young fellows
+in cowboy garb, who seemed to extract much noisy amusement from watching
+the stout youth eat. They didn't seem to care if he overheard their
+somewhat personal remarks.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, there's a lad who'll be a help to his folks <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>when he grows up,"
+grinned one of the stout boy's tormentors, as Rob and Merritt took their
+seats.</p>
+
+<p>"Which will be before you do," placidly murmured Tubby, continuing to
+eat his soup.</p>
+
+<p>A shout of laughter went up at this, and it wasn't at Tubby's expense,
+either.</p>
+
+<p>The two youths who had been so anxious to display their wit reddened,
+and one of them angrily said something about "the fresh tenderfoot."</p>
+
+<p>"Here's two more of 'em," tittered the other, as Merritt and Rob came
+in. Rob wore on his breast, but pinned on his waistcoat and out of
+sight, the Red Honor for lifesaving, which had been presented to him for
+heroism at the time of the waterlogging of the hydroplane, as narrated
+in the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol. Merritt also wore the decoration
+in the same inconspicuous place.</p>
+
+<p>As the leader of the Eagle Patrol sat down, however, his coat caught
+against Tubby's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>shoulder and was thrown back, exposing the decoration.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! ho! Look at the tenderfoot's medal," chuckled one of the young
+cattlemen; "wonder what it's for?"</p>
+
+<p>"The championship of the bread and milk eaters of New York State, I
+reckon," grinned the other, and another shout of laughter bore witness
+to the table's approval of this primitive humor.</p>
+
+<p>Rob flushed angrily, but said nothing. He did not wish to stir up
+trouble with two such ill-mannered young boors as the cattle-punchers
+were showing themselves to be. Encouraged by his silence, the badgering
+went on. One by one the other guests had been served by the Chinese
+attendant, with raisin pie and half-melted cheese, and had arisen and
+left the room. The two young cow-punchers and the Boy Scouts were
+shortly left alone in the fly-infested apartment. Rob and Merritt, who
+found the surroundings little to their liking, hurried through their
+meal, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>but Tubby ate conscientiously through everything that was brought
+him.</p>
+
+<p>It now grew plain, even if it had not been so before, that the two
+sun-burned young plainsmen sitting opposite the boys were deliberately
+trying to aggravate them.</p>
+
+<p>Interpreting the boys' silence as fear, they grew bolder and bolder in
+their remarks.</p>
+
+<p>"Have to catch up a real cow, I reckon," dreamily went on one of the
+boys' tormentors, gazing at the ceiling abstractedly, but fingering the
+condensed milk can.</p>
+
+<p>"What for?" inquired the other, playing into his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, the tin cow might disagree with mama's boys."</p>
+
+<p>"Ho-ho-ho! Say, Clark."</p>
+
+<p>"What, Jess?"</p>
+
+<p>"Reckon they must be overstocked with yearlings East."</p>
+
+<p>"Looks that way. Do you suppose Easterners are born or jest grow?"</p>
+
+<p>The youth addressed by his companion as Jess <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>looked straight at Rob as
+he spoke, and the insult was unmistakable. Rob's self-control suddenly
+deserted him with a rush.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll answer for your friend," he snapped out. "They
+grow-and-they-grow-right."</p>
+
+<p>Tubby looked up in surprise from his raisin pie, and Merritt's eyes
+opened wide at Rob's tone. It foreboded trouble as sure as a hurricane
+signal foretells a storm.</p>
+
+<p>"My! my!" grinned Jess, but it was an uncomfortable sort of a grin,
+"hear the little boy with the medal talk. Come on, Clark, let's go see
+to the ponies while the tenderfeet wait for their nurse to come and take
+their bibs off."</p>
+
+<p>They rose from the table, but Rob, still inwardly raging but outwardly
+cool as ice, stopped them.</p>
+
+<p>"Say," he said, "are you fellows cattlemen?"</p>
+
+<p>"You bet, stranger, from the ground up," rejoined Clark, with a vast air
+of self-importance.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then we've been misinformed in the East," said Rob, coolly
+brushing a few stray crumbs from his knees.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>"How's that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, we'd been told that cattlemen were natural gentlemen; but whoever
+told us that was dead wrong. Judging by you fellows, they're not
+natural, and certainly not the other thing."</p>
+
+<p>Clark's face grew crimson and he muttered something about "fixing the
+fresh kid," but his companion drew him away.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll have plenty of time to rope and brand these young mavericks," he
+said, as they left the room.</p>
+
+<p>As they vanished Rob burst into a shout of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Score one for the Boy Scouts," he said. "If ever there were two
+discomfited cow-punchers, those fellows are it."</p>
+
+<p>The landlord, who had entered the room a few moments before, came
+forward as the boys arose from the table. He was a tall, lanky man, with
+a look of perpetual gloom on his face. A drooping, straw-colored
+mustache did not help to enliven his funereal features.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>"Say, strangers," he said, in a dismal voice, "you've started in bad."</p>
+
+<p>"How's that?" inquired Rob, in a somewhat peppery tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, riling up Clark Jennings and Jess Randell; they's two of the
+toughest boys in the country."</p>
+
+<p>"Think so, I guess," snorted Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, wait and see," said the landlord, with a melancholy shrug of his
+sloping shoulders. "Three dinners, please."</p>
+
+<p>He extended a yellow palm.</p>
+
+<p>"How much?" asked Rob, putting his hand in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"Three dollars and six bits."</p>
+
+<p>"What! three dollars and seventy-five cents for that fly-ridden stuff?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's the charge, stranger."</p>
+
+<p>Rob, seeing there was no use arguing, paid over the money, in exchange
+for which they had received three greasy plates of soup, three portions
+of ragged, overdone bull beef, and three slabs of raisin pie, together
+with three cups of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>muddy, inky coffee. But a sudden impulse of
+curiosity gripped him.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, what's the twenty-five cents extra all round for?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Fer your ponies," rejoined the landlord, more miserably than ever. He
+seemed to be on the point of bursting into tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Ponies!" gasped Rob. "We haven't got any."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, it's a rule of the house," said the landlord, as if that
+settled the matter; "and if you ain't got any ponies it ain't my fault,
+is it?"</p>
+
+<p>There was no answering this sort of logic, and the boys strolled out to
+the porch to see if they could sight any trace of Harry Harkness. There
+was no sign of him, however, and after a prolonged period of gazing
+across the blazing desert, the boys sank back in three of the big
+rockers that stood in a row on the porch. It was dull, sitting there in
+the intense heat and drowsy silence, broken only at long intervals by
+the clatter of a pony's hoofs as some cow-puncher ambled by at an easy
+lope. A loud snore from Tubby soon <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>proclaimed that he was off, and
+Merritt and Rob were about to follow him into the land of dreams, when
+there came a sudden interruption.</p>
+
+<p>Rob felt his shoulder roughly seized from behind, and a harsh, mandatory
+voice addressed him:</p>
+
+<p>"Say, that's my chair you're sitting in. You'll have to get out."</p>
+
+<p>The boy turned and saw Clark Jennings glaring at him. Close beside him,
+with a grin on his face, was Jess Randell.</p>
+
+<p>"Even supposing it is your chair," said Rob, "you can ask me for it like
+a gentleman,&mdash;then," he added to himself, "I'll think over giving it to
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I guess you think you're a mighty fine gentleman?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope I am one, yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, out here gentlemen have to fight for their title. Are you going
+to give me that chair?"</p>
+
+<p>"As you are no more a guest of this hotel than I am, I shall sit here
+till I get ready to get up."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>"Then I'll have to help you out&mdash;&mdash;Ouch!"</p>
+
+<p>The remark and the exclamation came close together. Clark Jennings had
+bent forward as he spoke, and roughly laid hold of Rob to pull him from
+the chair by main force. As he did so, however, Rob had suddenly changed
+from a passive, rather sleepy boy, to a bundle of steel springs full of
+fight. Clark Jennings, as he laid hold of Rob, had felt himself hurled
+backward. Unable to check his impetus, he had landed against the wall of
+the hotel with a force which caused him to give vent to the exclamation
+recorded.</p>
+
+<p>"Look out, tenderfoot, he'll kill yer," warned the melancholy landlord
+from the window of the office, where he had been entering in a greasy
+book the extortion practiced on the boys.</p>
+
+<p>Several cow-punchers awoke to interest at the same time as Tubby and
+Merritt began to realize what was happening.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes blazing with fury, Clark Jennings crouched low, and then
+reaching back drew a revolver from his hip. He aimed it full at Rob,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>but simultaneously a strange thing happened. Rob was seen to dart
+forward, diving right under the leveled pistol. The next instant the
+weapon was spinning through the air. It landed with a thump in the
+middle of the dusty road. But Clark Jennings didn't see it, for the
+excellent reason that at that precise moment he was lying flat on his
+back on the hotel veranda. Before his eyes swam a whole galaxy of
+constellations. Over him stood Rob, with flushed face and clinched
+fists.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h2>NEWS OF THE MOQUIS.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>"Wow!" yelled the onlookers, as Clark's body struck the floor with a
+resounding thwack.</p>
+
+<p>Jess was in an agony of excitement over the sudden downfall of his
+friend. He was just about to hurl himself upon Rob when a sudden
+detaining arm fell on his with a heavy pressure.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold on there. We want fair play."</p>
+
+<p>It was Merritt Crawford who spoke, and Jess sullenly dropped his
+belligerent look. Somehow, the happenings of the last few seconds had
+altered the aspect of the tenderfeet materially in the eyes of the two
+young cow-punchers.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll fix you," growled Clark furiously, scrambling to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you let him get up?" asked Tubby, his round cheeks glowing with
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I want to give him plenty of rope," <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>said Rob, a grim look
+creeping over his usually pleasant face.</p>
+
+<p>A sudden furious onrush on the part of Clark prohibited further
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"Go in and eat him up, Clark!" shouted a lanky, long-legged cow-puncher,
+one of several who had been attracted by the rumpus.</p>
+
+<p>"Looks as if your friend had developed a sudden attack of indigestion,"
+grinned Tubby delightedly, as Rob's fist collided with the advancing
+Clark's jaw, much to the latter's astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Never seed nothing like it," commented the landlord, somewhat less
+melancholy now. "Clark's the champeen round here."</p>
+
+<p>"He may be when he's got a gun to back him up, but not when he has to
+fall back on his fists," retorted Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"Look out!" he yelled suddenly, as the young cow-puncher, finding that
+fair methods seemed to have failed, attempted a foul blow below Rob's
+belt.</p>
+
+<p>But there was no need of the warning. Rob <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>had seen the blow coming
+halfway, swiftly delivered as it was. The cowardly attempt at foul
+tactics thoroughly enraged him.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought Westerners fought fair," he gritted out, gripping the
+astonished cow-puncher by the wrist of the offending hand. Before Clark
+could gasp his astonishment, his other wrist was captive.</p>
+
+<p>Then a strange thing happened. Before any one had time to realize just
+how it occurred, Clark's body was describing a sweeping arc in the air.
+His heels rushed through the atmosphere fully five feet from the floor.
+Like the lash of a whip, his powerless body was straightened out as he
+reached the limit of the aerial curve he had described. At the same
+instant a dismayed yell broke from his pallid lips as Rob let go.</p>
+
+<p>Over the veranda rail, and out into the dusty road the young cow-puncher
+followed his revolver. He landed in a heap in the white dust, while Rob
+yelled triumphantly:</p>
+
+<p>"Now pick up your gun and profit by the lesson in manners I've given
+you."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>So saying, the boy calmly seated himself once more in the disputed
+chair, only a slight, quick movement of his chest betraying the great
+physical effort he had been through. After all, surprising as it had
+seemed, there was nothing very amazing about Rob's achievement. At the
+Hampton Academy athletics had always been a boast. The trick Rob had
+just put into execution he had learned from his physical instructor, who
+in his turn had picked it up from a Samurai wrestler of Japan. But to the
+cowboys, and other loungers about the Mesaville Hotel, the feat had been
+little short of marvelous.</p>
+
+<p>They eagerly thronged about the boy as he took his seat once more, and
+this time he remained in undisputed possession of it.</p>
+
+<p>"Whip-sawed, that's what Clark was," exclaimed one of the group.</p>
+
+<p>Another, the same tall, lanky fellow who had just been urging the young
+cow-puncher on to what he thought would be an easy victory, approached
+Rob.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>"Say, stranger," he asked eagerly, "will you teach me that thar
+contraption?"</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't do it," rejoined Rob soberly, although a smile played about
+the corners of his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, then, you'd know as much as I do," responded Rob. The
+assemblage burst into a loud roar of laughter, in which you may be sure,
+however, there were two voices which did not join. Those two were Clark
+Jennings' and Jess Randell's. The former had just picked himself up and
+stuffed his gun in his pistol pocket. A malevolent scowl marked his face
+as he did so. Nor did Jess smooth over matters by remarking audibly:</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Clark, what was the matter with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Chilled feet, I guess," chortled Tubby, who had overheard the remark.</p>
+
+<p>"Get away from me, can't you?" snarled Clark irritably, facing round on
+his well-meaning crony, "why didn't you help me out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Help you out&mdash;how?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>"Why, trip that tenderfoot up when I rushed him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shucks, I thought you fought fair," said Jess, a little disgusted
+in spite of himself.</p>
+
+<p>"So I do," snorted Clark, "when I'm winning."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, come on round and see to the ponies. We'll think up some way to
+get even with these grain-fed mavericks before very long," comforted
+Jess.</p>
+
+<p>"You bet, and in a way they won't forget, either," Clark Jennings
+promised himself, as he followed his companion to the corral.</p>
+
+<p>Not long after this, the boys perceived, far out on the sultry plain, a
+sudden swirl of dust.</p>
+
+<p>"Something coming," shouted Tubby, who, strange to say, had been the
+first to notice the approaching column of dust.</p>
+
+<p>"Team," briefly grunted the landlord, "did I hear you fellers say you
+was waiting for some one from the Harkness range?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you did," said Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Waal, I guess that's them now. Must have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>a bear-cat of a team in to
+kick up all that smother."</p>
+
+<p>Closer and closer grew the dust cloud, and presently, from its yellow
+swirls, emerged the heads of the leaders of an eight-mule team. Behind
+them lumbered a big, broad-tired wagon, from the bed of which a high
+seat was reared like a watch tower. By the driver's side was a long iron
+foot brake. As the team approached the bank of the sandy little dried-up
+river, where the road took a dip, the driver placed his foot on the
+brake and a loud screeching and groaning resulted, as the big wagon,
+with the hind wheels locked, slid down the far bank. As the front wheels
+thundered across the rough bridge above the thin thread of luke-warm
+water, the heads of the first mules emerged over the top of the bank
+nearest the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>"Mountain style," commented the long, lanky cow-puncher admiringly, as
+the driver, a tall, sun-burned lad of about Rob's age, whirled a long
+whip three or four times round his head <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>and concluded the flourish with
+a loud "crack" as sharp and penetrating as a pistol shot.</p>
+
+<p>An instant later the heavy wagon and its eight, dust-choked, sweating
+mules swept up in front of the hotel porch. The driver, flinging the
+single line with which he drove to his companion, clambered from his
+lofty perch and was immediately surrounded by the three tenderfeet.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you certainly come into town with a flourish of trumpets,"
+laughed Rob, after the first salutations between the Eastern boys and
+Harry Harkness, the rancher's son, had been exchanged.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long," responded the other, who in
+order to speak had pulled down a big red handkerchief which had bundled
+up the lower part of his face and kept it dust-proof while he drove;
+"but the fact is, we had some trouble on the way. A bunch of Moquis are
+out, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Indians!" gasped Tubby, with round eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, regular Indians," laughed Harry; "the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>Moquis' reservation is off
+a hundred miles or more to the northwest, near Fort Miles, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"They're off the reservation," cut in Tubby, proud of his knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>"Out fer a snake dance, I reckon," put in the long, lanky cow-puncher,
+who had been an interested listener.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, hello, Lone Star," exclaimed Harry. "I didn't know you were in
+town. Yes," he went on, "there's a secret valley in the Santa Catapinas
+which has been used by them for centuries for their festivals, and
+although they are supposed to be kept within the limits of the
+reservation, every once in a while a bunch of them get over here and
+hold a snake dance."</p>
+
+<p>"I've read about them," said Rob; "they do all kinds of weird things
+with rattlesnakes, don't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, no white man has ever seen them&mdash;or, if he has, never lived to
+tell about it," said Harry, "so of course nobody knows exactly what they
+do. But anyhow, when we camped last night we had eight mules, and when
+we woke this morning <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>there were only six. Jose, there&mdash;hey, Jose, wake
+up!" He prodded the Mexican who still sat on the wagon seat, with the
+end of his long whip. "Well, as I was saying, Jose trailed them and
+found them tethered in a arroyo about a mile from camp."</p>
+
+<p>"The Indians took them?" asked Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Jose, who's as good a trailer as he is a sleeper, found
+unmistakable tracks of Moquis. I suppose they took the mules in the
+night and then got scared at something and hitched them in the arroyo,
+meaning to come back for them."</p>
+
+<p>"Whereabouts did the Injuns cut into you, Harry?"</p>
+
+<p>A new voice had broken into the conversation. That of Clark Jennings. He
+nursed above his right eye a rapidly swelling "goose egg," marking the
+spot at which he had collided with the roadway. At his elbow was the
+faithful Jess Randell.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, hello, Clark, you in town, too? Every one from the Santa Catapinas
+seems to be in to-day&mdash;you, too, Jess. Well, the Indians paid us <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>their
+little call just this side of the Salt Licks,&mdash;why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, jes' wanted to know. Me and Jess has got to ride home that way
+to-night, for it's better riding when it's cool; and I thought I'd like
+to know whar to expect the varmints."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's the best information I can give you," said Harry, "but
+what have you been doing to your eye?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing," muttered Clark, turning away, while a loud guffaw went
+up.</p>
+
+<p>"What's all the joke,&mdash;what is it?" asked Harry. It was soon explained,
+and the young rancher burst into a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Rob, you must mean to clean the country of bad men. Trimmed Clark
+Jennings! Ho, ho, ho!"</p>
+
+<p>"Has he much of a reputation?" inquired Rob innocently, but with a
+twinkle in his eye.</p>
+
+<p>"I should say so. He won't forgive you in a hurry. He's going to be your
+neighbor, too, for a while."</p>
+
+<p>"How's that?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>"His father owns the next ranch to us. Jess Randell is Clark's cousin,
+an orphan, you know. He lives there, too. The two are great cronies, and
+think a lot of their reputation as tough citizens. The whole bunch have
+a bad name."</p>
+
+<p>As the team from the Harkness ranch was tired out by the long, hard
+journey across the hot desert, it was decided that the boys should spend
+the night at the Mesaville House, and start for the ranch the next
+morning while it was cool. This would bring them into the mountains by
+dusk. Over supper they laughed and talked merrily, recalling the last
+time they had met, which was in a wet, dripping fog off the Long Island
+coast. How differently were they now situated!</p>
+
+<p>After the meal Merritt and Harry sat down to a game of checkers, while
+Tubby, seated in a big chair, indulged in his favorite
+occupation&mdash;namely, taking a quiet doze. As for Rob, he wandered about
+the little town a while, but found nothing to interest him. Small as
+Mesaville was in common with most towns of the same character, it
+boasted several low dens in which the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>cow-punchers, miners and sheepmen
+gambled and drank their hard-earned money away. From these dens, as
+usual, there came the same blasts of foolish talk and loud laughter, as
+their swing doors opened and closed. A glare of light poured from their
+blazing interiors to the quiet, moonlit desert outside.</p>
+
+<p>As Rob, rather sickened, turned away from this section of the town, the
+doors of one of the places swung open, and the forms of Clark Jennings
+and his crony, Jess, emerged; with them was a third figure, that of a
+tall, stoop-shouldered young man. The eyes of all three fell
+simultaneously on the figure of Rob as he walked away.</p>
+
+<p>"Talk of the train and you hear her whistle," grinned Jess. "There he is
+now."</p>
+
+<p>The companion of the two young cow-punchers nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"That's him, all right. I recognize him. It'll be candy to me to get
+even with him."</p>
+
+<p>"We can trust you, Jack?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll fix him, never fear."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, then, we're going to start. We'll <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>ride into town ag'in in a
+few days and fix you up."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. I need the money. How's Bill and Hank making out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, doing odd jobs around the ranch. You know, Cousin Bill has turned
+out to be quite a cow-puncher; guess he rode horses back East?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, his father owned some in Hampton," rejoined the stoop-shouldered
+young man. (It will be recalled that when Bill Bender left Hampton he
+spoke of stopping a while with relatives in the West.)</p>
+
+<p>After a little more talk, the three bade each other good night. Soon the
+clatter of two ponies' hoofs, growing fainter and fainter in the
+distance, marked the departure from town of Clark Jennings and his
+crony. In the meantime, Rob had looked into the hotel, and finding Harry
+and Merritt still engrossed in a hotly contested fifth game, and Tubby
+snoring contentedly, had set out on another stroll. This time his
+aimless footsteps took him in the direction of the desert. By the
+railroad bridge he paused, gazing down at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>the moonlit water. Where the
+bridge abutments projected, the thready current of the San Pedro
+collected and formed quite a deep pool.</p>
+
+<p>"If this was the East, there'd be fish in there," mused Rob, when
+suddenly behind him he thought he heard a furtive footfall. He turned
+quickly. But, even as he did so, an irresistible shove was given him.
+Blindly extending his arms, Rob plunged forward down the steep
+embankment.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE DESERT WATER HOLE.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>As Rob toppled forward into vacancy, he received a startling momentary
+impression of familiarity from the tones of a loud laugh which rang out
+behind him. Fortunately for him, the water at the foot of the bridge
+abutment was some six or seven feet deep, and he struck it spread-eagle
+fashion, so that beyond the shock of his sudden fall he was uninjured.
+He at once struck out for the bank. When he stood again on the dry
+ground, shaking the water from himself, he began to rack his memory for
+the recollection of where and when he had heard a similar laugh to the
+one that had sounded in his ears as he plunged forward into space. Try
+as he would, however, he could not place it, and giving up the attempt
+finally, he made his way back to the hotel.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>The checker players started up as the dripping figure of the Boy Scout
+leader entered the room, and naturally began to ply him with questions.
+Rob's story of the events of the preceding few minutes was soon told,
+but so far as the shedding of any light on the mystery was concerned, it
+remained as blank a puzzle as ever.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to think that I dreamed it all," said Rob, "but
+these"&mdash;wringing out his wet clothes&mdash;"won't let me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there's no doubt that you were shoved over intentionally,"
+decided Harry Harkness, "but who is there out here who would do such a
+thing?"</p>
+
+<p>"It might have been one of those two cow-punchers you had the row with
+this afternoon," suggested Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I saw Clark and Jess ride out of town a good half-hour before Rob
+could have been shoved over," said Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe they mistook me for some one else," suggested Rob, as the easiest
+way of disposing of the matter. Privately, though, he entertained a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>different opinion. If he could only place that laugh! But try as he
+would, he could not for the life of him recall where he had heard it
+before.</p>
+
+<p>Soon afterward the Boy Scouts and their ranch friend retired to bed,
+Tubby having been sufficiently aroused to make his way upstairs to their
+room. Tired out as Rob was, he sank into a deep sleep almost as soon as
+his head touched the pillow. With Tubby things were different, however.
+His nap in the chair had rendered him wakeful, and he tossed and turned
+till almost midnight before he began to grow drowsy. Just as he was
+dropping off, two persons entered the adjoining room. The partitions, as
+is usual in the West, were of the very thinnest wood, and he could
+easily hear every movement made by their neighbors.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Jack," said one of the voices, evidently resuming a conversation
+that had been begun some time previously, "so you did the kid up, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sent him head first over the bank. Wish he'd broken his neck. The
+kid is one of that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>bunch that was responsible for my leaving Hampton."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that so? I don't wonder you are sore at him. Why didn't you hit him
+a good crack on the head while you were about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I figured that a cold bath would do as a starter. Wait till that
+bunch gets up to the mountains. Clark and Jess and my friends, Bender
+and Handcraft, will attend to them."</p>
+
+<p>Tubby's brain was in a whirl. He had had no difficulty in recalling one
+of the voices,&mdash;that of the one who had spoken of sending Rob over the
+bank of the San Pedro. Who the other was he couldn't imagine, however,
+except that he was evidently a crony of the first speaker. Impulsively
+the stout youth shook Rob's shoulder, and as the other opened his eyes,
+enjoined him to silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Rob, who do you think is in the next room?" he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, I'm sure. The emperor of China?" asked Rob in a sleepy
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush! don't talk so loud. It's Jack Curtiss!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>"What!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is. I'm sure of it. He was boasting about having shoved you over the
+bank of the river."</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever can he be doing out here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Living on the allowance his father sends him, I suppose. I heard before
+we left Hampton that he was some place in the West. I guess his father
+would soon stop his allowance if he knew he was up to his old tricks.
+Mr. Curtiss thinks that Jack is studying farming."</p>
+
+<p>"Raising a crop of mischief, I guess," breathed Rob, in the same
+cautious undertone that the two boys had used throughout their
+conversation. "I wonder if Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft are with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"That reminds me. I heard him mention them. They are on some ranch up in
+the mountains&mdash;where we are going, I gathered."</p>
+
+<p>"That means trouble ahead," mused Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going to have Jack arrested?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, how can I prove that it was he who shoved me in? Just overhearing a
+conversation <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>is no proof. I know now, though, why that laugh I heard
+sounded so familiar."</p>
+
+<p>Both boys listened for some time, but they heard no further talk from
+Jack Curtiss and his companion regarding themselves. Their talk seemed
+to be about money matters, and as well as they could gather, Jack was in
+debt to some gamblers for a large sum which he despaired of raising.</p>
+
+<p>"I've only got a month to get it in," they heard him say.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we'll hit upon a plan, never fear," rejoined his companion.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning Harry Harkness was told of the happenings of the night.
+He, of course, already knew of the bold attempt of the former bully of
+Hampton Academy to kidnap one of the Boy Scouts, as related in the first
+volume of this series, and was inclined to warn the boys to be careful
+of such a dangerous character. Viewed in the cheerful light of the early
+day, however, the boys did not regard the matter so seriously. Indeed,
+they forgot all about Jack and his threats <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>in the bustle of preparation
+for their long trip across the waste lands.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast was soon disposed of, and then the boys in a body made for the
+corral. Jose had been told two hours earlier to catch up and hitch the
+mules, but the long-eared animals were still browsing at the hay pile,
+and not a vestige of Jose was to be seen when the boys emerged.</p>
+
+<p>"There he is in the hay," shouted Rob suddenly, pointing to two long,
+thin legs sticking out of the fodder heap.</p>
+
+<p>"Asleep again, the rascal," exclaimed Harry. "Come on, Rob; you lay hold
+of one leg, and I'll take the other."</p>
+
+<p>Both boys seized hold of a designated limb, and soon the sleepy Jose,
+expostulating loudly, was hauled out into the sunlight.</p>
+
+<p>"Why aren't those mules hitched?" demanded Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"Me go sleep," grinned the Mexican teamster apologetically, showing a
+row of white teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"We don't need telling that. You are always <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>asleep, except when you're
+eating. Get busy now and hitch up."</p>
+
+<p>Urged thus, Jose soon had his rawhide rope circling, and in ten minutes
+had caught up the team with far more agility and skill than would have
+been suspected in such an easy-going individual.</p>
+
+<p>The mules were soon attached to the heavy wagon and the single line
+which guided them threaded. This manner of driving was new to the boys,
+but they were soon to find that most teamsters in the far West use only
+a single rein attached to the lead mules on the right side. The others
+follow the leader. If the driver desires to turn his team to the left,
+instead of pulling the single line, he shouts, "Haugh!" and over swings
+the team.</p>
+
+<p>The boys' baggage had lain at the depot all night, and accordingly the
+first stop was made there. It was soon loaded on, and then, with a loud
+cry of, "Ge-ee, Fox! Gee-ee-e, Maud!" from Jose, the lead mules swung to
+the right. Over the bridge, beneath which Rob had met his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>misadventure
+of the night before, thundered the heavy vehicle. Swinging in a broad
+circle, they then headed toward the south, where the Santa Catapinas,
+blue and vague, were piled like clouds on the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>Early as was the hour at which the start was made, however, two persons
+in Mesaville besides the hotel employees were up to see it. These were
+Jack Curtiss and the friend who had shared his room the night before.
+They peered out of the window at the four boys with eager glances.</p>
+
+<p>"Look them over well, Emilio," Jack urged his companion, who in the
+daylight was seen to have a swarthy skin and the cigarette-stained
+fingers of a Mexican town lounger. Emilio Aguarrdo was a half-breed
+gambler, and a thoroughly vicious type of man. In him were combined the
+vices and evil passions of two races. His thin lips curled back from his
+yellow teeth as he watched the boys, who, with shouts and laughter, were
+loading up their belongings, while Jose slept on his lofty seat.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't forget them, Jack," he promised, as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>the wagon started off, the
+long whip cracking like a gatling gun.</p>
+
+<p>All that morning the wagon lumbered on across the hot plains, an
+occasional jack-rabbit or coyote being the only sign of life to be seen.
+As the sun grew higher, the boys saw in the far distance the strange
+sight of the town of Mesaville, hotel and all, hanging upside down above
+the horizon. It was a mirage, as clear and puzzling as these strange
+phenomena of the desert always are.</p>
+
+<p>As the hours wore on, the mountains, from mere wavy outlines of blue,
+began to take on definite form. They now showed formidable, seamed and
+rugged. As well as the boys could perceive at that distance, the hills
+were covered with dark trees to their summits and intersected by dense
+masses of shadow, marking ca&ntilde;ons and abysses. A more forbidding-looking
+range could hardly be imagined, yet in the foothills to the southeast
+there grew great savannas of succulent bunch grass on which several
+ranges of cattle roamed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>The noon camp was made in the foothills near a small depression in which
+grew some scanty grass of a dried-up, melancholy hue. The wagon road was
+at some little distance from this, and as soon as a halt was made, Jose,
+at Harry's orders, took a shovel from the wagon and started for the dip
+in the foothills.</p>
+
+<p>"Going to dig potatoes?" asked Tubby casually, as he watched the lazy
+Mexican saunter off.</p>
+
+<p>"No, water," responded Harry. His serious tone precluded any possibility
+that he was joking. But the idea of water in that sterile land seemed so
+ridiculous to the boys that they burst into a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean it," declared Harry. "Here, you fellows, take those buckets from
+under the wagon. We carry them to water the mules. Pack them over to
+that dip and in half an hour you'll be back with them full."</p>
+
+<p>"Huh! guess I could carry all the water that will come out of that place
+in one hand," commented the fat boy.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be rash," laughed Harry; "before long <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>you'll take digging for
+water as a matter of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Wish you could dig for ice-cream sodas," muttered the fat boy absently,
+picking up a bucket and starting off after Jose. Rob and Merritt
+followed, while Harry busied himself unhitching the mules for their
+noonday rest. This done, he lighted a fire of sage-brush roots, and
+awaited the return of the boys.</p>
+
+<p>The first thing the boys saw Jose do when he got to the bottom of the
+dip was to lie flat on his stomach and place an ear to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"He's going to sleep again," suggested Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"Looks like it," agreed Rob.</p>
+
+<p>But this time the Mexican did not drop off into a peaceful slumber.
+Instead, he presently straightened up, and shouldering his shovel, began
+tramping off once more. The boys followed him over several dips and
+rises till at last he descended into another depression in which grew
+some scanty herbage. Here he repeated the other <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>performance and arose
+with a grunt of satisfaction. Suddenly he began digging furiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Wow! he's making the dirt fly," exclaimed Tubby, as the industrious
+Mexican dug as frantically as though his life depended on it. So fast
+did the work of excavation proceed that soon quite a large hole had been
+made in the soft ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Pity they haven't got him down at Panama," commented Merritt dryly.</p>
+
+<p>Jose had paid no attention to the boys hitherto, but now he suddenly
+shouted, pointing downward into the hole: "Mira qui!"</p>
+
+<p>"What's that about a key?" asked Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Try to conceal your natural ignorance," rejoined Merritt, with
+withering scorn. "He said, 'Mira qui.' That means 'Look here.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, and 'latcha-key' means open the door, I suppose," retorted the
+stout youth. "You're a fine Spanish scholar, you are."</p>
+
+<p>"I've a good mind to throw you into that hole," threatened Merritt.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>"Try it," shouted the stout youth, hopping about aggravatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I will."</p>
+
+<p>Merritt made a rush at the irritating Tubby, who leaped provokingly
+away. But suddenly he gave utterance to a yell of dismay, as in his
+efforts to retreat he stumbled into the hole which Jose had dug. By this
+time, to Rob's astonishment, for he had been watching Jose's methods
+with interest, quite a lot of muddy water had appeared, and into this
+accumulation of moisture the stout youth fell with a resounding splash.</p>
+
+<p>Even the solemn Jose smiled as Tubby sputtered and splashed about in the
+pool.</p>
+
+<p>"Come out of that water," commanded Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"Call this water?" demanded Tubby, sputtering some of it out of his
+mouth. "Ugh! it tastes more like soap suds to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Him alkali," grinned Jose, as Tubby scrambled out and stood, rather
+crestfallen, on the verge of the magic pool; "mucho malo."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>"What's 'mucho malo'?" demanded Tubby of Merritt, the self-appointed
+interpreter.</p>
+
+<p>"It means you're a nuisance," retorted Merritt, which reply almost
+brought on a renewal of hostilities. Rob checked them, however, by
+reminding the stout youth that the water was for drinking and not for
+bathing purposes. The boys were anxious to dip their buckets in and
+return to the wagon, but Jose told them they must wait till the water
+cleared.</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty soon him like glass," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, after a long interval of waiting, in which there was
+nothing to do but look at the sand and the burning blue sky above it,
+the previously muddy seepage water began to take on a green hue. With a
+yell, the boys rushed forward to dip it up.</p>
+
+<p>But as they bent over the brink of the water hole a sudden shout from
+Jose made them look up. They echoed the Mexican's yell as they did so,
+for outlined against the sky was a startling figure.</p>
+
+<p>It was that of an Indian, his sinewy limbs <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>draped in a blanket of
+gorgeous hue, and astride of a thin, active-looking calico pony. For an
+instant the piercing eyes of the red man and the white boys met, and
+then, with a strange cry, he wheeled his pony and vanished over the rim
+of the depression.</p>
+
+<p>"Was that an Indian?" gasped Tubby, for the figure of the red man had
+appeared and vanished so swiftly that it seemed almost as if it might
+have been a delusion.</p>
+
+<p>"Moqui, very bad Indian," grunted the Mexican, who seemed nervous and
+fearful all of a sudden.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I thought maybe it was a jack-in-the-box," said Tubby, with a
+cheerful grin, which froze on his face, however, as suddenly as it had
+come.</p>
+
+<p>The rim of the water hole was surrounded by twenty or more wild figures,
+the companions of the solitary horseman. They had appeared as if by
+magic.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h2>SILVER TIP APPEARS.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>The interval of silence which succeeded to the discovery that they were
+surrounded by Moquis was the most trying any of the party had ever
+known. Resistance was useless, for each of the Indians carried a rifle
+of modern make, and even had the boys been armed, they could not have
+defended themselves.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want?" demanded Rob at length, of an Indian who, judging by
+his ornate feather headdress, seemed to be the chief of the party.</p>
+
+<p>"White boys go to mountains?" demanded the chief.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. We are going to the Harkness ranch," rejoined Rob, a trifle more
+boldly, as there did not seem to be any active antagonism in the chief's
+tone.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>"White boys got money?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's a hold up!" gasped Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, hold your tongue for once, can't you?" snapped Merritt angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we have some money. Why?" inquired Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"We want um."</p>
+
+<p>It was a direct demand, and as the boy hesitated, a grim look spread
+over the chief's face. Rob, like the others, carried most of his money
+in a belt about his waist, but each lad had a few bills in his wallet
+and some small change in his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, what is this&mdash;Tag Day?" demanded Tubby, as the chief, having
+solemnly taken all Rob's small change, drew up in front of the stout
+youth and extended his dirty palm.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said the fat boy, hastily digging down into his pocket, as
+the red man stared steadily at him. "Here's all I've got. Take it, Chief
+What-you-may-call-um, and I hope whatever you get with it chokes you."</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately for Tubby, the chief did not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>understand this, or it might
+have fared badly with the irrepressible youth. Merritt's turn came next,
+and then Jose, with many lamentations, surrendered a few small silver
+coins.</p>
+
+<p>"All right. You go now," said the chief, as with a shrill, wild yell he
+dug his naked heels into his pony's sides, and the little beast plunged
+up the steep bank. Echoing his shrill cries, the other Indians joined
+him, and the body of marauders swept off across the foothills at a rapid
+pace.</p>
+
+<p>"So that's the noble red man, is it?" demanded Tubby. "Hum! back home
+we'd call them noble panhandlers."</p>
+
+<p>"What did they want the money for?" asked Rob of the Mexican, who was
+still wringing his hands over the loss of his pocket money.</p>
+
+<p>"Moqui's go snake dance. Moocho red liquor," explained the guide from
+across the border.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Rob. As he spoke, his eyes fell suddenly on
+a small piece of paper the Indian chief had dropped when he rode up the
+steep side of the water hole. He picked it up <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>and opened its folds
+carefully. It appeared to be a scrap torn from a notebook, and the boy
+stared as his eyes fell on the name "Clark Jennings, His Book."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, fellows, look here," he cried excitedly, as he perused some
+writing on the other side. "That sneak I gave the razzle-dazzle to
+yesterday is in this."</p>
+
+<p>"What, Clark Jennings?"</p>
+
+<p>"The same. Listen!"</p>
+
+<p>From the side of the paper which bore the writing Rob read as follows:</p>
+
+<p>"'They will be near the water hole at noon. All three have money.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Tubby in a puzzled tone. "I don't
+see the connection, quite."</p>
+
+<p>"It's plain enough. I've heard that these Indians are placid enough if
+they are not interfered with and given money. That fellow Clark knew
+they were somewhere hereabouts&mdash;you remember he asked Harry about them
+yesterday. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>He and Jess Randell left Mesaville early, so as to meet them
+and bribe them to hold us up."</p>
+
+<p>"But can the Indians read English writing?" asked Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Most of the present generation have been to government schools and
+are comparatively well educated."</p>
+
+<p>"Hooray for education!" shouted Tubby. "They sure are promising
+scholars."</p>
+
+<p>There came a sudden shout from above.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, what's the matter with you fellows, anyhow? You've been gone
+almost an hour."</p>
+
+<p>Harry Harkness stood at the edge of the dip, looking down at the excited
+boys.</p>
+
+<p>"An hour isn't the only thing that's gone," wailed Tubby; "all our
+change has gone, too."</p>
+
+<p>When the laugh at Tubby's whimsical way of putting it had subsided, the
+situation was explained to Harry, who agreed that there was nothing to
+be done.</p>
+
+<p>"We had better be pushing on as fast as possible, though," he said;
+"there's no knowing when those fellows may wake up to the fact that we
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>have more money about us and come back after it."</p>
+
+<p>A hasty lunch was cooked and eaten, and the mules watered with a bucket
+of water each. This done, the team was once more hitched, and Jose, who
+had in the meantime dropped off to sleep again, awakened. But as the
+Mexican cracked his whip, and his long-eared charges began to move, a
+sudden surprise occurred. From a little dip ahead a horseman suddenly
+appeared and hailed the boys.</p>
+
+<p>He was a tall, bearded man in regulation plainsman's costume, and his
+sun-burned face was shielded by a broad sombrero. On his face was a look
+of determination and self-reliance. As the boys looked at him they felt
+that here was a man of action and character.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, strangers," he said, checking the splendid horse he rode, as the
+mules came to a stop. "Have you seen anything of any Moquis hereabout?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes," responded Rob; "they&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>"Saw us to the extent of all our small change," put in Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine, too!" wailed the Mexican. "Mucho malo Indiano."</p>
+
+<p>"What! you have been robbed by them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Feels that way," said Tubby, patting his empty pockets.</p>
+
+<p>"That's too bad," said the man. "I am Jeffries Mayberry, the Indian
+agent from the reservation. I am trying to round those fellows up
+without making a lot of trouble over it, and having the papers get hold
+of the story and print exaggerated accounts of an uprising. They are
+really harmless if they don't get hold of liquor."</p>
+
+<p>"Or money," put in Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as far as we know, they swept off to the southeast," said Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. They are going to have their snake dance in the Santa Catapinas.
+Every once in a while they break out and head for there. All the
+renegade Indian rascals for miles round join them, and besides the
+dance, which is a religious ceremony, they drink and gamble. Well, I
+must <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>be getting on, and thank you for your information."</p>
+
+<p>With a wave of his hat, he dug his big blunt-rowelled spurs into his
+horse's sides and was off in a cloud of dust.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to help that fellow get his Indians rounded up," said Rob; "he
+seems the right sort of a chap."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, his name is well known around here," rejoined Harry, as the wagon
+moved onward once more. "He is the best Indian agent that the Moquis
+have ever had, my father says. He knows them, and can handle them at all
+ordinary times. He dislikes fuss, however, and hates to see his name in
+the papers. Otherwise, I guess, he'd have had the soldiers after those
+fellows."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish we had the Eagle Patrol out here," said Merritt. "We'd soon get
+after that bunch of redskins."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, why not?" said Harry enigmatically.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why not form a patrol out here? You know <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>we talked about it in the
+East in the brief time we had together."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, that's a great idea," assented Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Who could we get to join, coyotes, rattlers, and jack-rabbits?" asked
+Tubby solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Tubby, this is no joking matter," protested Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not joking. Never more serious in my life. A coyote would make a
+fine scout."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, to run away," laughed Rob. "But seriously, Harry, could we get
+enough fellows out here to form a patrol?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure; I know of a dozen who would join. We could make it a mounted
+division, and maybe we could help Mr. Mayberry round up his Moquis."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, fellows!" exclaimed Rob, with shining face, "that would be
+splendid!"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe we'd get our money back then," grunted Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell you what we'll do," said Harry. "To-morrow I'll take you with me,
+Rob, and we'll ride round all the ranches where I know some <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>boys, and
+get them to sign up. We ought to have a patrol organized in a week at
+that rate."</p>
+
+<p>"Put me in as a commissariat officer, will you?" asked Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"That goes without saying," laughed Rob.</p>
+
+<p>As the wagon jolted on over the road, which grew rapidly rougher and
+rougher, the boys eagerly discussed their great plan.</p>
+
+<p>The foothills were now passed, and they were forging ahead through a
+deep ca&ntilde;on, or gorge, well wooded on its rugged sides with dark trees
+and shrubs. Here and there great patches of slablike rock cropped
+through the soil and showed nakedly among the vegetation. All at once
+Rob gave a shout and pointed up the hillside at one of these "islands"
+of rock.</p>
+
+<p>"Look, look!" he shouted. "Something moved up there."</p>
+
+<p>"Something moved," echoed the rest, Indians being the "something"
+uppermost in every mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Indians?" gasped Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"No; at least, I don't think so. It was some animal&mdash;a huge beast, it
+seemed to be."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>As he spoke there came a crashing of brush far up on the hillside, and
+every one in the party, even the sleepy Jose, gave vent to a perfect
+yell of amazement. On one of the rock shelves far above them was poised
+the massive form of an immense bear. His huge body showed blackly
+against the sunset-reddened shelf on which he stood. With the exception
+of one spot of white on his great chest, he was almost black.</p>
+
+<p>"Silver Tip!" shouted Harry Harkness, too excited even to remember his
+rifle, which lay in the bottom of the wagon.</p>
+
+<p>As he uttered the exclamation, the great ragged brute gave a snort of
+apparent disdain and clumsily lumbered off into the darker shadows. The
+next instant he was gone.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h2>AT THE HARKNESS RANCH.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>"Silver Tip!" echoed Rob, as the immense monarch of the Arizona forest
+crashed his way off through the undergrowth. "Well, when you told us
+about him on the steamer, you didn't exaggerate his size. He's as big as
+a pony."</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty of bear steaks on him," remarked Tubby judiciously.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess you'd find them well seasoned with lead," laughed Harry. "Every
+hunter in this part of the country has shot at Silver Tip, and plenty of
+them have hit him, but he always managed to get away. The Indians and
+the Mexicans are scared of him. They think he is not a bear at all, but
+some sort of demon in animal form. Eh, Jose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Silvree Teep mucho malo bear," grunted the Mexican. "Only can kill with
+silver bullet."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>"What do you think of that," laughed Harry. "But our hunters have wasted
+too many lead bullets on old Silver Tip to try him with silver ones. But
+in spite of his wonderful good fortune hitherto, that bear's day will
+come."</p>
+
+<p>"Like a dog's," commented Tubby. "You know they say every dog has his
+day&mdash;I guess it's the same way with that old sockdolliger."</p>
+
+<p>"That's so, I guess," rejoined Harry.</p>
+
+<p>Soon afterward they clattered and rumbled down a steep grade leading
+from the ca&ntilde;on into a wooded, green dip in the foothills. Before them
+suddenly spread out the vista of apparently illimitable pasture grounds,
+dotted with feeding cattle. In the foreground, half hidden by big
+cotton-wood trees, and overtopped by a windmill and water tank, stood a
+long, low ranch house, with numerous outbuildings and corrals about it.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the range," said Harry, pointing. And as the boys broke into an
+admiring chorus, the mules plunged forward into a brisk trot. In a short
+time the outer gate was reached, and opened by dint of pulling a hanging
+contrivance <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>which worked on a system of levers, that opened and closed
+the gate at the will of whoever was entering or leaving, without
+obliging them to dismount.</p>
+
+<p>Around the bunkhouse stood a group of cowboys in leather chapareros and
+rough blue shirts, awaiting the call to supper in the low, red-painted
+cook-house. Some of them were gathered about a tin basin, removing the
+grime of the day. In a large corral were their ponies, browsing on a
+railed-off stack of grain hay, and occasionally kicking and biting and
+squealing, as some fractious soul among them instigated a fight.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a door in the ranch house opened, and a figure, which the boys
+recognized as that of Mr. Harkness, emerged. His hands were extended in
+a hearty welcome, and a smile wreathed his bronzed features.</p>
+
+<p>"Hulloa, boys!" he hailed. "Welcome to the Harkness ranch."</p>
+
+<p>The boys broke into a cheer, and leaping from the wagon, ran forward to
+greet their kind-hearted host, whom they had last met on the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>deck of a
+stranded steamer on the Long Island shoals.</p>
+
+<p>After the first chorus of greetings and questions had passed, Mr.
+Harkness inquired what had delayed them.</p>
+
+<p>"Indians," rejoined Harry. "They tried to steal mules going down, and
+they robbed the boys here of their small change on their way up."</p>
+
+<p>The face of the rancher grew graver.</p>
+
+<p>In response to his questions, Rob had soon placed him in possession of
+the facts surrounding the appearance of the Moquis at the water hole and
+the subsequent events.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall have to keep a sharp eye on the cattle, then," he said
+soberly. "I've got a bunch over on the far range, right up in the
+foothills. If these gentry get hungry they are likely to make a raid on
+them, or they may even do it out of pure wantonness."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it wouldn't be the first time," said Harry. "By the way, pop, we
+met Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, on the way up. He's after them."</p>
+
+<p>"That's bad," gravely commented the rancher.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>"Bad!" repeated Harry. "Why, dad, I've heard you yourself say that he
+was the best Indian agent you ever knew."</p>
+
+<p>"So he is, in a sense. But he is too kind-hearted. What those renegade
+rascals need is a file of soldiers with fixed bayonets and a burning
+desire to use them. However, come in, boys. Jose, wake up and put those
+trunks off. Get two men to help you bring them into the house. Come in,
+boys, and make yourselves at home in a rancher's shanty."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harkness may have called it a shanty, but to the boys' eyes there
+had seldom been presented a more attractive interior than that of the
+Harkness ranch house. The furniture was dark and heavy, and the walls
+were hung with trophies of the hunt. Bright-colored Navajo rugs were all
+about, lending a brilliant dash of brightness to the dark woods and
+walls. At one end of the room was a huge open fireplace, which was now
+filled with fresh green boughs.</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;why, it's great!" exclaimed Rob, glancing about him admiringly.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>"Glad you like it," said the rancher, evidently well pleased at the
+boy's pleasure. "Those heads there are all the tale of my rifle."</p>
+
+<p>"The collection is only lacking in one thing&mdash;a single item," commented
+Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Which is&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The head of Silver Tip, the giant grizzly."</p>
+
+<p>"You know about him, then?" Mr. Harkness seemed much surprised. At the
+time of his leaving the stranded ship he had not overheard the
+conversation between his son and the Boy Scouts.</p>
+
+<p>"We've seen him," put in Tubby, nodding his head very sagely.</p>
+
+<p>Then of course the story of their glimpse of the monster had to come
+out.</p>
+
+<p>"It is unusual for Silver Tip to be about here at this time of year,"
+commented Mr. Harkness. "He usually does not visit us till later. That's
+an additional peril to the cattle."</p>
+
+<p>"How is that?" inquired Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"In two ways. In the first place, Silver Tip is what we call a rogue
+grizzly. He lives all alone, hunts by himself, and has nothing to do
+with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>any others of his kind. He is as cruel, wantonly so, as he is
+formidable. For instance, last winter he killed fifty or more head of
+steers just for the sheer love of killing. Then, too, he is dangerous in
+another way. It takes very little to stampede a band of cattle. I have
+seen them started by a jack-rabbit leaping up suddenly from the brush.
+The sight of such an appalling monster as Silver Tip would be sure to
+start them off. No, I certainly don't like to hear that he is about."</p>
+
+<p>Not long after this remark the announcement of supper put an end to
+further discussion of Silver Tip and his ways. Then and there Rob
+determined in his own mind that, if it were possible, the skin of that
+inaccessible monster would journey East with him when he returned.
+Absurd as the idea seemed, of him, an Eastern boy, green in the ways of
+the West, winning such a trophy, still Rob could not help dwelling on
+it. After the meal Mr. Harkness left the house for the bunkhouse, to
+give some orders to the night-riding cow-punchers. The news of the near
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>neighborhood of the Moquis had made him nervous and unsettled.</p>
+
+<p>The evening passed away in further discussion among the boys of the
+proposed mounted patrol of Boy Scouts, and before they knew it, ten
+o'clock had arrived. Pretty well fatigued by the events of the day, they
+were not unwilling to seek their beds, which were situated in three
+small upper rooms, directly above the big main living room.</p>
+
+<p>Rob was just dropping off into unconsciousness when he heard a
+clattering of hoofs outside. Somebody had ridden up to the ranch house
+at full speed.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is it?" he heard asked in Mr. Harkness's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"It's me&mdash;Pete Bell," an excited voice rejoined, evidently that of the
+horseman who had just arrived.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Pete, what is it?" inquired the voice of Mr. Harkness once more.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, sir, you know I was one of the bunch you sent to the far pasture
+to-night."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>"Yes, yes! Go on, man! What is it&mdash;the Indians?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, no Indians. But, sir, we've seen it again."</p>
+
+<p>"What, that foolish ghost-story thing! Haven't you fellows got over
+harping on that yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"It ain't imagination, Mr. Harkness, as you seem to think," Rob heard
+the cow-puncher protest. "I seen it with these eyes as plain as I see
+you now. It come out on the cliff where the old cave dwellings are, and
+we saw it wring its hands a few times and then vanish just like it's
+always done before."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense, Pete," replied the hard-headed rancher. "I thought you knew
+better than to take stock in ghost stories."</p>
+
+<p>"So I do, sir; but when you see the ghost itself, that's getting close
+to home."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, get back to the pasture now, Pete, and I'll guarantee the ghost
+won't bother you any more. Come on, get some color in your face. You are
+chattering like a child."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>"Won't you send somebody back with me, sir? That thing ought to be
+looked into."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense! I wouldn't waste time, men or thought on such rubbish. If you
+get track of any Indians, let me know, but don't bother me with any
+ghost stories. Now be off!"</p>
+
+<p>"Y-y-yes, sir," said the cow-puncher obediently, but Rob noted that his
+pony didn't travel back toward the far pasture as fast as it had come
+away from it.</p>
+
+<p>"So," thought Rob to himself, "there are haunted cliff dwellings near
+here, as well as a rogue grizzly and a bunch of bad Indians. Well, it
+looks as if we had fallen into an ideal spot for Boy Scouts."</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h2>A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER."</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>The next morning before breakfast Rob recounted to his chums the
+conversation he had overheard the night before. The story of the ghost
+of the ancient cliff dwellings was, it appeared, no new thing on the
+Harkness ranch, which accounted for its owner's apathy in regard to it.
+Successive batches of cow-punchers doing duty in the far pasture at
+night professed to have seen the grisly object on its nightly rounds,
+but nobody had ever had the courage to investigate it.</p>
+
+<p>After the morning meal had been dispatched, Mr. Harkness announced that
+he expected to be busied about the ranch for the morning.</p>
+
+<p>"But, Harry, you take the boys down to the corral," he said, "and have
+one of the men catch up some horses for them. You boys know best <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>the
+kind of stock you want, so I'll let you choose them."</p>
+
+<p>The boys thanked him, and a few moments afterward he left the room. A
+short time later he galloped off to make a round of the different
+sections of the range and to prosecute inquiries about the renegade
+Moquis.</p>
+
+<p>The corral was, as was usually the case, full of ponies of all colors
+and grades of disposition, from mild beasts to fiery, half-broken
+bronchos. As the boys neared the enclosure, a stout little cowboy in a
+huge hairy pair of "chaps" approached them, airily swinging a lariat.
+His eyes opened and shut as rapidly as a loose shutter slat in a breeze.
+Cowboys have nick-names for everybody. His was of course "Blinky."</p>
+
+<p>"Good mornin', Master Harry. Want some cattle this a. m.?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Blinky. Have you got some good ones caught up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes, you can have White Eye, and what kind of stock does your
+friends fancy?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a twinkle in Blinky's fidgety optics <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>as he asked this, for
+the boys, although they had donned regular ranch clothes, still bore
+about them that mysterious air which marks a "tenderfoot," as if they
+bore a brand.</p>
+
+<p>"How about you, Rob?" asked Harry, also smiling slightly. "Want a bronc,
+or something more on the rocking-horse style?"</p>
+
+<p>Now, although Rob could ride fairly well, and both Tubby and Merritt had
+had some practice on horseback, none of the boys were what might be
+called rough riders. But something in Blinky's tone and Harry's covert
+smile aroused all Rob's fighting blood.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I want something with some life in it," he said boldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Um-hum! The same will do for me, but not <i>too</i> much life, if you
+please," chimed in Tubby, somewhat dubiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Anything I don't need to use spurs on," ordered Merritt, following up
+the general spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, young fellers," said the cow-puncher, opening the corral
+gate. "Come on in while I catch 'em up for you."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>The instant the rawhide began whirling about Blinky's head the ponies
+evidently realized that something was up, for they began a wild race
+round and round the corral, heads up and heels lashing out right and
+left. The three tenderfeet regarded this exhibition with some
+apprehension, but they were too game to say anything.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll rope my own," said Harry, picking up a lariat which hung coiled
+over a snubbing post near the gate. The ranch boy stood by the post,
+leisurely whirling his rawhide and just keeping the loop open till a
+small bay pony, with a big patch of white round each eye, came plunging
+by with the rest of the stampede. The lariat suddenly became imbued with
+life. Faster it whirled and faster, the loop finally sailing through the
+air gracefully and landing in a rawhide necklace round White Eye's neck.</p>
+
+<p>At almost the same instant that White Eye became a captive, Blinky let
+his loop go, and roped a small, active buckskin pony which, as soon as
+it felt the loop on its neck, laid back its ears and began squealing and
+bucking viciously.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>"I guess that's your pony, Rob," said Tubby generously, as the
+cow-puncher drew the struggling little animal up to the snubbing post,
+and tying him there, went into the barn for a saddle.</p>
+
+<p>"If you are in any hurry, you can have him," volunteered Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I guess I can wait. How about you, Merritt?"</p>
+
+<p>"Same here, I'm in no hurry."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," thought Rob, "I'm in for it now, and if that bronc doesn't buck
+me into the middle of next week, I'm lucky."</p>
+
+<p>After more struggles, the bridle and saddle were forced on the buckskin,
+and Blinky cast him loose, still maintaining a grip on the bridle,
+however.</p>
+
+<p>"All aboard!" he said, with a grin in Rob's direction.</p>
+
+<p>Feeling anything but as confident as he looked, Rob boldly put his foot
+in the heavy wooden stirrup with its big leather tapadero covering, and
+swung into the saddle. Hardly had he touched it when a strange thing
+happened. The boy felt <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>as if an explosion must have occurred directly
+beneath him, and he was being shot skyward by it. The next instant the
+sensation changed, and as the broncho struck the hard ground of the
+corral, all four legs as stiff as drum sticks, Rob felt as if every bone
+in his body was in process of dislocation.</p>
+
+<p>"Stick to her, boy! Yow-ee-ee!"</p>
+
+<p>Blinky, roaring with laughter, shouted the advice. At this moment, too,
+just when Rob would much rather not have had any spectators about,
+several cow-punchers appeared as if by magic, and perching themselves on
+the corral rails, settled down to enjoy the spectacle.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoop!" they yelled. "That's a regular steamboat bucker."</p>
+
+<p>"Go on, boy! Grip her!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't go to leather!"</p>
+
+<p>These and a hundred other excited exclamations were borne dimly to Rob's
+ears as the buckskin threshed about, trying in vain to rid itself of the
+troublesome boy. How he did it Rob never knew, but he stuck like a
+cockle-burr, and that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>without "going to leather," or, in other words,
+gripping any part of the saddle. He must have been a born rider to stand
+the antics of the maddened cayuse as he did. One second the little
+brute, tiring of bucking, would rear backward as if it must overbalance,
+and the next it would be fairly standing on its head. Once it lay down
+and tried to roll over, but the high horn of the saddle prevented this.
+As it collapsed to the ground, Rob skillfully slipped off, and when it
+struggled upon its feet again, the boy was standing over it and was as
+firmly in his seat as ever by the time the animal was ready for a new
+performance.</p>
+
+<p>All at once the buckskin made a mad rush for the corral fence. It was
+five feet in height, and Rob turned sick as he faced what seemed
+inevitable disaster.</p>
+
+<p>The yells of the cowboys, however, made him determined to stick it out.</p>
+
+<p>"I've stood it all this time. I'll stay with it if it kills me," thought
+the boy.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant the little broncho rose at the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>fence. The bars rose in
+front like an impassable wall.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll never make it," was the thought that flashed through Rob's head.</p>
+
+<p>But even as the fear of a direful crash flashed through his mind, the
+active little animal he bestrode had cleared the barrier, its hind hoofs
+just splintering the upper edge of the top rail. The buckskin alighted
+on the other side, trembling and sweating, with expanded nostrils and
+heaving flanks, but its ears were no longer back, nor did its eyes show
+white. The broncho seemed to have realized that it had played its trump
+card and lost.</p>
+
+<p>"Get up!" cried Rob, kicking the shivering pony in the sides.</p>
+
+<p>Meekly the little buckskin obeyed the rein, and Rob rode it back toward
+the corral gate&mdash;a conquered animal. From that time on the buckskin
+owned Rob as its master, and a better animal never bore saddle. As the
+cow-punchers burst into a loud chorus of admiring yells, wrung from them
+by the plucky exhibition, Rob took off <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>his hat and waved it three times
+round his head. For the life of him, he could not have abstained from
+this little bit of braggadocio.</p>
+
+<p>"Yip-ee!" he yelled.</p>
+
+<p>"Good for you!" shouted Harry. "It was a mean trick of Blinky, and I was
+going to get him in a lot of trouble for it, but&mdash;all's well that ends
+well."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, you were fooling all of us. You must have been out with a Wild
+West show," exclaimed Blinky admiringly, as Rob patted the wet shoulder
+of the conquered buckskin.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad I could stick on," declared Rob modestly.</p>
+
+<p>"Stick on!" echoed another cow-puncher. "Why, you're a broncho buster,
+boy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've had enough of it to last me for a long time," laughed Rob.</p>
+
+<p>Two other ponies were soon caught and saddled, and much to the delight
+of Tubby and Merritt, they found that the cow-puncher's love of fun had
+been worked off when Rob was given the buckskin, and that they were each
+provided <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>with mounts that tried no such tricks as standing on their
+heads.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then, come on," said Harry, when all were mounted. "We've got a
+big round to make. The first ranch we'll head for will be Tom Simmons's.
+He and his two brothers will join, I'm sure. After that we'll finish up
+the others and issue a call for a meeting."</p>
+
+<p>The remainder of the day was spent in the saddle, with a brief stop for
+a noonday dinner at the Simmons ranch. By the end of the day the Boy
+Scouts' list contained ten names, which were as follows: Tom, Jack and
+Bill Simmons, Eph and Sam Ingalls, Henry Randolph, Charley and Frank
+Price, Silas Lamb and Jeb Cotton.</p>
+
+<p>All the would-be scouts had been ordered to report, three days from the
+day of their signing on, at the Harkness ranch. In the meantime the boys
+wrote to Eastern headquarters for organization papers, which, as Rob and
+his companions were already so well known, they anticipated no
+difficulty in receiving without delay, which, indeed, proved to be the
+case. Rob had, meanwhile, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>received a letter from Hampton which reported
+the successful formation of another patrol in that village where the
+famous Eagles first saw the light.</p>
+
+<p>The interval between the call for the meeting and the meeting itself the
+boys put in in practicing riding and shooting. As they all three were
+familiar with the rifle and revolver, even that brief practice made them
+fairly expert with firearms and their riding improved every day.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harkness and Mr. Simmons had consented to act as Scout Masters, and
+were present at the first meeting of the organization. Rob, on account
+of his experience as leader of the Eagle Patrol, was voted in as leader,
+with Merritt and Harry as corporals. Tubby was appointed a sort of drill
+master and instructor to the new scouts. This done, they all dispersed,
+subject to immediate call.</p>
+
+<p>As the ranches of Mr. Harkness and his neighbors, though separated
+widely by actual distance, were each joined by telephone, it was decided
+that it would be an easy matter to assemble the scouts <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>at a given
+rendezvous. The opportunity to test this came sooner than any of the
+boys expected. One afternoon, about a week after the formation meeting,
+during which interval Tubby had held two drill nights, a cow-puncher on
+a sweat-covered horse galloped into the corral. Slipping off his
+exhausted animal, he dashed at top speed toward the house.</p>
+
+<p>"The cattle in the far pasture have stampeded," he panted, bursting into
+the rancher's office, "and are headed for the Graveyard Cliffs!"</p>
+
+<p>"Boys, boys!" shouted Mr. Harkness, hastily springing up from his
+account books and jamming a sombrero on his head. "Here's a chance to
+show your boy scouts some action. Here, you, Blinky, saddle my horse and
+the boys' animals! Sharp work now! There's not a moment to lose! We must
+head them off!"</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>Such a scene of confusion, hurry and mad rushing about of men and horses
+as ensued, following the first shout of the alarm, the boys had never
+witnessed. Cow-punchers staggered about under the burden of heavy
+Mexican saddles. They tried to buckle on spurs and saddle and bridle
+their wild little horses all at the same time. But confused as the whole
+affair looked to an uninitiated spectator, there was system underlying
+it all. Each man knew what was required of him.</p>
+
+<p>At last all was ready. The last revolver was thrust into the last
+holster, and the last cinch was tightened round the belly of the last
+expostulating pony. Mr. Harkness, mounted on a powerful bay horse
+somewhat heavier than the others, rapidly explained to the punchers what
+had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>occurred. The cattle were stampeding on the far pasture. Their
+course led direct for the Graveyard Cliffs, a series of precipitous
+bluffs over which, in the past, many stampeding steers had fallen to
+their death.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, the steers had to take a round-about way, owing to various
+obstructions. The distance to be traversed by the men, cutting off every
+inch possible, was about five miles. It had to be covered in less than
+half an hour. No wonder the cow-punchers looked to their cinches and
+other harness details.</p>
+
+<p>Amid a wild yell from the throats of the score of cowboys who had been
+about the ranch when the summons was first given, the cavalcade swept
+forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Wow! this is riding with a vengeance," shouted Rob, above the roar of
+hoofs, in Harry's ear.</p>
+
+<p>"S-s-s-say!" sputtered Tubby, "I hope my horse doesn't stumble."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a voice close at hand struck in. It was one of the cow-punchers
+shouting to another.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>"Remember the last stampede, when Grizzly Sam was trampled?"</p>
+
+<p>"You bet I do. His pony's foot stuck in a gopher hole, and the whole
+stampede came lambasting on top of him."</p>
+
+<p>The boys began to look rather serious. Apparently they were off on a
+more dangerous errand than they had bargained for. It was too late to
+draw out now, however, and, anyhow, not one of them would, for this
+would have shown "the white feather."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you give the alarm to the rest of the boys?" asked Rob of Harry,
+after an interval of silence among the boys.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I only had time to call Simmons's place, but they'll get the
+others. Simmons's place is not far from the Graveyard Cliffs, and the
+boys will be there ahead of us, likely."</p>
+
+<p>"How about the others?"</p>
+
+<p>"They have to come from greater distances. They may not arrive till it's
+all over."</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible to see any of their surroundings in the thick cloud of
+dust. All about them, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>as far as the eye could penetrate the dense
+smother, were straining ponies and shouting cowboys.</p>
+
+<p>"How can we tell when we get to the place?" asked Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"My father is riding up ahead," rejoined Harry; "that big bay of his can
+make two feet to a pony's one. He'll call a halt when we get there."</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime a rumor had been passed from mouth to mouth among the
+cow-punchers. Moquis had been seen near the far pasture the night
+before, and open accusations were made that the renegades had started
+the stampede so as to be able to make a feast off the dead cattle in
+case they swept over the cliffs.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Mayberry hasn't succeeded in rounding them up yet, then," said Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"No," rejoined Harry, "and I heard one of the punchers say yesterday
+that Indians for miles around are coming into the mountains. I guess
+they won't disperse till after the snake dance."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>Suddenly a wild yell from up in front caused them to halt.</p>
+
+<p>"Got there, I reckon," uttered one of the cowboys. As he spoke there was
+but one question in every mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Were they in time?"</p>
+
+<p>As the dust cloud settled, and they were able to make out their
+surroundings, the boys found that they had come to halt on a sort of
+plateau. Just beyond this was a sheer drop, as if a great hunk had been
+cut out of the ground. This drop&mdash;which was fully sixty feet
+deep,&mdash;formed the dreaded Graveyard Cliff, so called, although, as will
+be clear from our description, it was more properly a deep, narrow
+gulch.</p>
+
+<p>The distance across the yawning crack in the plateau&mdash;which was
+undoubtedly of volcanic origin&mdash;varied from a hundred feet or more to
+fifteen, and even less. A queerer place the boys had never seen.</p>
+
+<p>But they had little time to gaze about them. Blinky, who was one of the
+crowd of stampede <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>arresters, gave a sudden shout as they came to a
+halt.</p>
+
+<p>"Hark!"</p>
+
+<p>From far off came a sound that, to the boys, resembled nothing so much
+as distant thunder. But unlike thunder, instead of ceasing, it grew
+steadily in volume.</p>
+
+<p>"Here they come!" shouted Mr. Harkness, as the advancing roar grew
+louder. The solid earth beneath the boys' feet seemed to shake as the
+stampede swept toward them.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, a mile or more off, a dark cloud grew and grew until it spread
+half across the blue sky, wiping it out.</p>
+
+<p>"They raise as much dust as a tornado," exclaimed Blinky. "Pesky
+critters! I'd like to get a shot at the Moquis what started them."</p>
+
+<p>But it was no time to exchange remarks. The face of each man in that
+little band was grave, and he appeared to be mustering every ounce of
+courage in his body for the struggle that was to come.</p>
+
+<p>To the boys, as to the men, the situation was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>clear enough. Across the
+plateau the stampeding cattle were thundering, headed straight for the
+Graveyard Cliffs. Behind them, like a mighty wall, rose the sheer face
+of a precipice where a bold peak of the range soared upward. Between
+this wall and the ominously named gorge was the little band of horsemen.
+They faced the problem of turning the stampede or being swept with it
+into the jaws of the deep, narrow gulch. Small wonder that the bravest
+of them felt his heart beat a little quicker as the cattle rushed on.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Mr. Harkness espied the boys.</p>
+
+<p>"You boys go back!" he shouted sharply. "I should never have let you
+come. This is too dangerous for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, dad, we'll be all right. Let us stay and see it out," protested
+Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"Go back at once, boy," said Mr. Harkness sternly. "You don't know the
+danger."</p>
+
+<p>There was no disobeying the stern command, and the boys, all of them
+with the exception of Tubby, regretting the necessity, turned their
+ponies away. The stout youth was inwardly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>much gratified at the idea of
+avoiding the stampede.</p>
+
+<p>"Beefsteak is all very fine," he said to himself, "but I like it inside,
+and not on top of me, at the bottom of a gulch."</p>
+
+<p>As the boys wheeled their mounts and separated from the main body of the
+cow-punchers, three other mounted figures swept toward them with wild
+yells. The newcomers were the three Simmons brothers, the recruits to
+the Boy Scouts. With them, and close behind, came Charley and Frank
+Price and Jeb Cotton. All had ridden post haste to the spot on receipt
+of the hastily 'phoned message from headquarters.</p>
+
+<p>Each boy gave the secret salute of the scouts as he drew rein, and
+awaited orders. A regular howl of disappointment went up when they
+learned that they had been ordered off "the firing line," so to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a shame," growled Tom Simmons.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what," assented Jeb Cotton, trying to quiet his little calico
+pony, which was dancing about, scenting the excitement in the air.
+Indeed, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>all the animals seemed to have caught the infection, and were
+prancing about, almost unmanageable. Perhaps the increasing thunder of
+the hoofs of the advancing stampede had something to do with it.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what are we to do?" demanded Frank Price.</p>
+
+<p>"Stay here and wait for a chance to help if we see it," said Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, pshaw! They're busy. They won't see us. Let's slip in while they're
+not looking," urged Bill Simmons.</p>
+
+<p>"The first duty of a Boy Scout is to obey orders," said Harry Harkness
+decisively.</p>
+
+<p>"It's mighty hard to sit here doing nothing, though," grumbled Frank
+Price.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what our soldiers had to do in many a battle," his brother
+Charley reminded him.</p>
+
+<p>"That's so. I guess we'll have to be patient."</p>
+
+<p>And now, under the direction of Mr. Harkness, the cattlemen spread out
+in a long line, so arranged as to be capable of sweeping across the
+vanguard of the cattle in a compact skirmish <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>line rank. Each puncher
+had his gun ready for action, and at the word from Mr. Harkness they
+rode toward the approaching stampede at a quick lope.</p>
+
+<p>Up till now the stampede had not been visible. Only the signs of its
+approach were manifest. Suddenly, however, over the crest of a little
+rise, there swept into view an appalling spectacle. Hundreds of
+fear-crazed cattle, bellowing as they raced forward, and clashing their
+horns together with a sharp sound, formed the vanguard. Behind them came
+a huddled mass, goring and trampling each other in their terror.</p>
+
+<p>The boys' faces paled as they watched.</p>
+
+<p>"Yow-yow-yow-eee-ee-e!"</p>
+
+<p>The yells burst from the cattlemen's throats above the noise of the
+stampede.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! Bang! Bang!</p>
+
+<p>A score of revolver shots crackled as the line swept forward and rode at
+full gallop right across the faces of the leaders of the mad rush. It
+was terribly risky work. The slightest stumble would have meant death.
+At the head of his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>cow-punchers, like a general leading his forces,
+rode Mr. Harkness on his big bay.</p>
+
+<p>Clear across the front of the line the cow-punchers swept without
+appreciably diminishing the speed of the onrush.</p>
+
+<p>A second time they tried the daring tactics. This time they succeeded in
+checking the cattle a little, but only a bare two hundred yards remained
+between the leaders and the edge of the Graveyard. In this space
+galloped the cow-punchers. Could they stop the advance in time to save
+themselves from a terrible death?</p>
+
+<p>"Father! Father!" shouted Harry, in his painful excitement standing up
+in his stirrups.</p>
+
+<p>The boys felt a great sympathy for the rancher's son. If the cattle were
+not stopped in the next few minutes a terrible death seemed certain to
+overtake the brave man and his helpers.</p>
+
+<p>"Fire at 'em!" yelled Mr. Harkness suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>This was a desperate last resort. Hitherto, the cow-punchers had been
+firing in the air. Now, however, they leveled their revolvers at the
+oncoming herd.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>Bang! Bang! Bang!</p>
+
+<p>Several of the leaders crumpled up and fell to the ground, mortally
+wounded. In a second they were trampled under foot, but suddenly, after
+twenty or more had been thus slaughtered, the band began to waver. At
+last, with mad bellows, and amid frantic yells from the cowboys, their
+ranks broke and wavered.</p>
+
+<p>"Yip-yip-u-ee-ee!"</p>
+
+<p>The triumphant shrieks of the cowboys rang out as the disorganized herd
+split up.</p>
+
+<p>"Wow! They've turned 'em!" shouted Harry. "Hooray!"</p>
+
+<p>The next instant his shout of delight changed to a yell of dismay, and
+he turned his pony sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, Rob!" he cried. "We've got to get out of here!"</p>
+
+<p>"They're coming this way!" yelled Tubby, spurring his pony and galloping
+off at top speed, the others following him. As Rob's pony jumped
+forward, however, it stumbled and threw the boy headlong. He kept his
+hold of the reins, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>fortunately, and was up on its back in a trice. But
+the second's delay had been fatal.</p>
+
+<p>Sweeping toward the boy, from two points of the compass, were two
+sections of disorganized stampede. The cattle were trying, according to
+their instinct, to reunite.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm hemmed in," was Rob's thought.</p>
+
+<p>He switched rapidly round to a quarter where there seemed a chance of
+escape, but already it had been closed. The boy was on a sort of island.
+Behind him was the gorge, deep and terrible. In front of him on two
+sides, death was closing in on the wings of the wind.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h2>HEMMED IN BY THE HERD.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>There was little time to think, and hardly more for action. A more
+perfect trap of its kind than that in which Rob was caught could not
+have been devised by the utmost ingenuity.</p>
+
+<p>Shouts of alarm went up from the cow-punchers, and from the little group
+of Boy Scouts as they saw his danger. But not one of those horrified
+onlookers could do more than sit powerless. All about them, like waves
+shattered against a mighty rock, surged the broken stampede, with wild
+cattle rushing hither and thither. They themselves were, in fact, by no
+means out of danger.</p>
+
+<p>With an angry bellow, the leader of the advancing left flank of cattle
+lowered his head. His mighty horns glistened like sharpened sabres.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>Straight at the boy he rushed, while his companions followed his
+example.</p>
+
+<p>An involuntary groan burst from the watchers. It seemed as if Rob's doom
+was sealed. But suddenly something happened that they still talk about
+in that part of the country.</p>
+
+<p>Quick as thought the boy decided that there was only one course open to
+him. Advance he could not. Retreat, on the other hand, seemed barred by
+the gulch. Yet on the gulch side of the beleaguered boy lay the only
+path.</p>
+
+<p>Foolhardy as the attempt appeared, Rob decided that the risk must be
+taken.</p>
+
+<p>A shout burst from the lips of the powerless onlookers as they realized
+what the boy meant to do.</p>
+
+<p>Leap the gulch on his pony!</p>
+
+<p>A run, or take-off, of some fifty feet lay between Rob and the dark
+crack in the earth that was the gulch. Short as was the distance, from
+what Rob knew of the active little beast he bestrode, he believed he
+could do it. He raised his heavy quirt above the pony's trembling
+flanks.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>Crack!</p>
+
+<p>The lash descended, cutting a broad wale on the buckskin's back. He gave
+a squeal of rage and bounded forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Yip-yip!" yelled Rob.</p>
+
+<p>Out of the peril of the situation a spirit of recklessness seemed to
+have descended upon him. He could have shouted aloud as he felt the
+active bounds of the cayuse. One hurried glance at the awful gap before
+him gave the boy a rough estimate of its width&mdash;ten feet or more. A
+tremendous leap for a pony. But it must be done.</p>
+
+<p>"Yip-yip," yelled Rob once more, as he dug his spurs in deep, and the
+maddened pony gave one tremendous bound that brought it right to the
+edge of the pit.</p>
+
+<div class="img">
+<a href="images/imagep102.jpg">
+<img border="0" src="images/imagep102.jpg" width="48%" alt="Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the leap." /></a><br />
+<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the leap.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>For one sickening instant it paused, and Rob felt the chill fear of
+death sweep over him. Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the
+leap. Like steel springs its tough muscles rebounded, and the yelling,
+shrieking cow-punchers saw a buckskin body, surmounted by a cheering
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>boy, give a great leap upward and&mdash;alight safe on the farther side of
+the chasm.</p>
+
+<p>Cheer after cheer went up, while Rob waved his hat exultantly and yelled
+back at his friends.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing like that leap for life had ever been witnessed before.</p>
+
+<p>The amazed cattle, cheated of their prey, wavered, and the leaders tried
+in vain to check themselves. Desperately they dug their forefeet into
+the edge of the gulch, but the treacherous lip of the chasm gave under
+their weight, and with a roar and rattle, a cloud of dust and a
+despairing bellow, four of them shot over the edge and vanished.</p>
+
+<p>Rob could not repress a shudder as he patted his buckskin, and realized
+that but for the little steed's noble effort he might have shared the
+fate of the dumb brutes.</p>
+
+<p>Before long the cow-punchers had the rest of the steers rounded up, and
+ready to be driven back to the Far Pasture. Many were the threats
+breathed against the Moquis as they did so. The cattle, as is the nature
+of these half-wild brutes, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>having had their run out, seemed inclined to
+collapse from fatigue. As long as unreasoning terror held sway among
+them they had galloped tirelessly, but now their legs shook under them
+and they quivered and drooped pitifully. But the cattlemen showed them
+no mercy. With loud yells and popping of revolvers and cracking of
+quirts, they rode round them, getting them together into a compact mass.</p>
+
+<p>While all this was going on, Rob had ridden his buckskin along the edge
+of the gulch. Some two miles below the place where his leap had been
+made, he found a spot which seemed favorable for crossing. The pony slid
+down one bank on its haunches and clambered up the other like a cat. As
+the boy traversed the bottom of the Graveyard, he noticed a peculiarly
+offensive odor. The smell which offended his nostrils, he found, sprang
+from the carcasses of the cattle which had at various times fallen into
+the gulch, above where he was crossing.</p>
+
+<p>"Wonder why they don't put up a fence here," thought the boy.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>He did not learn till afterward that that very thing had been done, but
+every time a freshet occurred in the mountains a part of the gulch caved
+away, carrying with it the fence and all. It had thus grown to be less
+of an expense to the ranchmen to lose a few cattle every season than to
+erect new fences constantly.</p>
+
+<p>By the time Rob rejoined his friends, the cattle were standing ready for
+the drive back to their pastures. A more forlorn looking lot of beasts
+could not have been imagined.</p>
+
+<p>"They know they done wrong," volunteered Blinky, gazing at the dejected
+herd.</p>
+
+<p>"Well done, my boy," exclaimed Mr. Harkness, as Rob rode up. "I never
+saw a finer bit of horsemanship. But let us hope that such a resource
+will never again be necessary."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so, too, Mr. Harkness," said Rob. "I tell you I was scared blue
+for a minute or two. If it hadn't been for this gritty little cayuse
+here, I'd never have done it."</p>
+
+<p>"So I did you a good turn, after all, when I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>roped up that four-legged
+bit of dynamite, thinking to play you a fine joke," said Blinky.</p>
+
+<p>"You did," laughed Rob, "and I thank you for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Rob," put in Tubby plaintively, after the other boys had got
+through congratulating Rob, and wringing his hand till, as he said, it
+felt like a broken pump handle. "Say, Rob, don't ever do anything like
+that again, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not likely to, Tubby&mdash;but why so earnest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you know I've got a weak heart, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"A good digestion," laughed Mr. Harkness; "and speaking of digestions,
+reminds me that we haven't had any dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"As I was just about to observe," put in Tubby, in so comical a tone
+that they all had to burst out laughing, at which the stout youth put on
+an air of innocence and rode apart.</p>
+
+<p>"But," went on Mr. Harkness, "the 'chuck-wagon' I sent out to the Far
+Pasture last night should still be there. It isn't more than five miles.
+If you boys think you can hold out we can ride <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>over there, and we can
+have a real chuck-wagon luncheon. How will that suit you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Down to the ground," said Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"From the ground up," chimed in Tubby, who had recovered from his
+assumed fit of the sulks, at the mention of the immediate prospect of a
+meal.</p>
+
+<p>"It'll be great," was Merritt's contribution to the general chorus of
+approval.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, then. Blinky, you ride on ahead and tell Soapy Sam to cook
+us up a fine feed."</p>
+
+<p>"With beans, sir?" asked Blinky in an interested tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. And if he has any T bone steaks, tell him we want those,
+too."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, did you hear the name of that cook?" asked Tubby, edging his pony
+up to Merritt's, as the cow-puncher spurred off on his errand.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;Soapy Sam; what of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I thought it was Soupy Sam, that's all," muttered Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, is that meant for a joke? If so, where is the chart that goes with
+it?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>But Tubby had loped off to join the cow-punchers, who with yells and
+loud outcries were getting the steers in motion.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the cloud of dust moved forward. After traversing some rough
+country a yell announced that the cabins and the chuck-wagon of the Far
+Pasture were in sight. The cow-punchers immediately abandoned the tired
+cattle, leaving them to feed on the range, and swept down on the camp
+like a swarm of locusts.</p>
+
+<p>Soapy Sam, his sleeves rolled up and a big apron about his waist,
+flourished a spoon at them as they began chanting in a kind of
+monotonous chorus:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Chick-chock-we-want Chuck!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chuck-chuck we want chuck!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cook-ee! Cook-ee! Cook-ee!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>What's the luck?</p>
+
+<p>As they chanted they rode round and round the cook, whose fires and pots
+were all on the ground. In a huge iron kettle behind him, simmered that
+staple of the cow-puncher, beans. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>atmosphere was redolent with
+those sweetest of aromas to the hungry man or boy, sizzling hot steaks
+and strong coffee. Soapy Sam had fairly outdone himself since Blinky had
+ridden in with news that the boss and some guests were on the way.</p>
+
+<p>"Now you go way back and sit down, you ill-mannered steer-steering bunch
+of cattle-teasers," bellowed Soapy Sam indignantly, at the singing
+punchers. "If you don't, you won't get a thing to eat."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, cook-ee!" howled the cowboys.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I mean it, not a mother's son of you," yelled Soapy Sam. "All you
+fellows think about is eating and drinking, and then smoking and
+swopping lies."</p>
+
+<p>"How about work, cook-ee?" yelled some one.</p>
+
+<p>"Work!" sputtered the cook with biting sarcasm. "Why, if work 'ud come
+up to you and say 'Hello, Bill!' you'd say, 'Sir, I don't know you.'"</p>
+
+<p>Further exchange of ranch pleasantries was put a stop to at this moment
+by the arrival of Mr. Harkness and the boys, for the Simmons <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>boys and
+the other Boy Scouts had been included in his invitation. The cowboys
+dispersed at once, riding over toward the huts, where they unsaddled
+their ponies and turned them into a rough corral. Water from a spring
+was dipped into tin basins, and a hasty toilet was made. By the time
+this was finished, Soapy Sam announced dinner by beating loudly on the
+bottom of a tin pan with a spoon.</p>
+
+<p>"Grub!" yelled the cowboys.</p>
+
+<p>"Come and get it," rejoined Sam in the time-honored formula.</p>
+
+<p>Within ten minutes everybody was seated, and in the lap of each member
+of the party was a tin plate, piled high with juicy steak, fried
+potatoes, and a generous portion of beans of Soapy Sam's own peculiar
+devising. Handy at each man's or boy's right was a steaming cup of
+coffee. But milk there was none, as Tubby soon found out when he
+plaintively asked for some of that fluid.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe there's a tin cow in the wagon," said Soapy Sam; "I'll see."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>"A 'tin cow'," repeated Tubby wonderingly; "whatever is that?"</p>
+
+<p>A perfect howl of merriment greeted the fat boy's query.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess its first cousin to a can of condensed milk," smiled Mr.
+Harkness. "But if you'll take my advice, you'll drink your coffee
+straight, in the regular range way."</p>
+
+<p>And so the meal went merrily forward, in the shadow of the frowning,
+rugged peaks of the Santa Catapinas. In after days, the Boy Scouts were
+destined to eat in many strange places and by many "strange camp fires,"
+but they never forgot that chuck-wagon luncheon, eaten under the
+cloudless Arizona sky on the open range.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>The meal disposed of, the cow-punchers and the boys, all of whom were
+pretty well tired out by their exertions of the morning, lounged about a
+while. Then preparations for the return to the ranch began. A guard was
+to be left over the cattle, however, as they were still restless and ill
+at ease, and the boys begged hard to be allowed to form a part of it. At
+first Mr. Harkness would not hear of it.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, dad, the boys are out here to get experience," protested Harry,
+"and what better training could they have in ranch life than by standing
+a night watch over restive cattle?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's all very well," rejoined his father, "but you must remember that
+I am in a measure responsible for the safety of these young men, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>and
+you boys have, up to date, displayed quite a capacity for getting into
+mischief."</p>
+
+<p>"And getting out of it again," put in the irrepressible Tubby. And the
+victory was won, as many another victory has been, by a burst of
+laughter. Soon after, the boys loped to the top of a nearby knoll, and
+waved good-by to the ranch-bound party. Then they turned their ponies
+and cantered back to the cow-punchers' huts at a smart pace. Besides the
+boys, the three Simmons brothers, Frank and Charlie Price and Jeb Cotton
+were to share the Scouts' watch, Mr. Harkness having promised to 'phone
+to their various homes explaining their absences. In charge of the four
+punchers was Blinky, who had also been given orders by Mr. Harkness to
+keep the boys out of mischief. The cattle, however, grew so restive
+during the afternoon that the attention of the punchers was fully
+occupied in "riding them." It seemed to soothe the bovines to have their
+guardians constantly near them.</p>
+
+<p>"The brutes smell Injuns, just as sure as my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>name is Blinky Small,"
+declared Blinky emphatically.</p>
+
+<p>The boys, after riding a few rounds with the punchers, began to find
+this occupation growing monotonous, and looked about for some other
+means of diversion.</p>
+
+<p>"I know," shouted Tubby suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Tubby's got an idea," laughed Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell him to hold it. He may never get another," jeered Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's play ball," went on the stout youth, absolutely unperturbed by
+the laughter Rob's comment aroused.</p>
+
+<p>"Fine," came sarcastically from one of the boys. "Where's the bat?"</p>
+
+<p>"Where's the ball?"</p>
+
+<p>"Where are the mitts?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, where's the earth?" interrupted Tubby impatiently, stemming the
+tide of objections. "Say, can't you fellows play ball without a big
+league collection of stuff?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, here's a bit of board I can trim down a bit and make a bat of,"
+said Jeb Cotton.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>"Good for you, Jeb. You are a young man of resource and ingenuity.
+You'll make a good scout. How's this for a ball?"</p>
+
+<p>The stout youth held up a rounded bowlder, which must have weighed at
+least four pounds.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, rats! Say, what do you want to do&mdash;brain us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't," responded Tubby enigmatically.</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Brain you."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't got any."</p>
+
+<p>"Any what?"</p>
+
+<p>"B-r-a-i-n-s, brains!" yelled Tubby, retreating to a safe distance.</p>
+
+<p>"I have it!" exclaimed Rob suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"What, the pip?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, an idea," responded the boy recklessly, forgetting his own comments
+on Tubby's inspiration.</p>
+
+<p>"Ho! ho! ho!" howled the stout youth delightedly. "Step up, ladies and
+gentlemen, and see the eighth&mdash;or ninth wonder of the world&mdash;Rob <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>Blake
+has an idea. Step up lively now, before the little creature gets away."</p>
+
+<p>"We can borrow some potatoes from Soapy Sam," said Rob, when some of the
+laughter at his expense had subsided.</p>
+
+<p>"Borrow them?" exclaimed Bill Simmons. "I guess it will mean giving
+them. What I couldn't do to a potato with this bat&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He flourished the piece of lumber Jeb Cotton had shaped, as he spoke.
+However, Rob's suggestion was tried; but even as Bill Simmons had
+prophesied, the borrowed potatoes did not prove a success as baseballs.
+One after another, they were scattered into tiny fragments, and Soapy
+Sam, on being requisitioned for more, threatened to evict the entire
+party from his premises.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Tubby petulantly. "What'll we do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Go swimming," laughed Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"I have it," exclaimed Rob suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"He's got it again&mdash;a relapse of ideas," grinned Tubby.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>"What's the matter with climbing that cliff and exploring those old cave
+dwellings?"</p>
+
+<p>"Great!" was the unanimous verdict. Privately, one or two of the boys
+who had heard the ghost legend, were not quite as eager as they seemed
+to be, to traverse the mysterious passages and tomb-like dwellings of a
+vanished race, but they didn't say so.</p>
+
+<p>"It's about three hours to sundown. We'll have to shake a leg to get up
+there and back," said Frank Price.</p>
+
+<p>Acting on this advice, no time was lost in making a start.</p>
+
+<p>"Have we all got revolvers?" asked Rob suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure," responded Jeb Cotton. "I brought mine when I heard that it was a
+stampede we were called out on."</p>
+
+<p>The others had done likewise.</p>
+
+<p>"Say," put in Tubby gloomily, as they set out, "what's the good of
+taking guns with us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you never know what you'll run into in a cave," said Bill
+Simmons.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>"Huh, I never heard of guns being any good against ghosts," chillily
+remarked the fat youth.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you're a nice cheerful soul, you are," burst out Rob. "Are you
+scared?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no; I'm not. Go ahead and rout your ghosts out. Stir 'em up, and
+make 'em jump through the hoops and back again. Fine!" exploded Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever is the matter with him?" asked Merritt, looking about for an
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>"That idea he had a while back has gone to his head," laughed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>And such was the general opinion.</p>
+
+<p>As has been said, the cliff, at the summit of which were the cave
+dwellings, lay about half a mile back from the huts of the Far Pasture
+cow-punchers. The cliff was in itself a remarkable formation. It towered
+sheer up and down like the wall of a house. It was just as if a giant
+cheese-knife had shaved a neat slab off the face of the mountain&mdash;a slab
+some four hundred or more feet in height, and a mile or more wide at the
+base.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>From where the boys were, however, they could perceive an old cattle
+trail winding up the mountainside, off beyond one edge of the smooth
+cliff. It traced its way among the scrub growth and stunted trees
+almost&mdash;so far as they could judge&mdash;to a point near the summit, and
+afforded an easy way of reaching the top of the cliff.</p>
+
+<p>An hour or more of tough climbing brought them to the top of the
+mountain&mdash;or high hill&mdash;which formed a sort of plateau. No time was lost
+in making for the edge of the cliff, in the face of which, some twenty
+feet or more from the top, were bored the entrances to the
+cave-dwellers' mysterious homes.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Tubby triumphantly, as he gazed over the dizzy precipice
+"no cave man's home for us."</p>
+
+<p>It looked as if the stout youth was right. A narrow ledge, forming a
+sort of pathway against the naked side of the cliff, ran below the cave
+dwellings as a shelf is seen to extend sometimes below a row of pigeon
+holes. But from the summit of the cliff to the ledge was, as has been
+said, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>all of twenty feet, and there seemed to be no way of bridging the
+distance.</p>
+
+<p>"Those cave men must have been way ahead of the times," mused Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you make that out?" inquired Jack Simmons, Bill's younger
+brother.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, they must have had air ships. They couldn't have rung their front
+door bells any other way."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense they must have had some way of getting down," interposed Rob,
+who was looking about carefully&mdash;"Hooray, fellows! I've got it," he
+exclaimed suddenly, "look!"</p>
+
+<p>He pushed aside a clump of brush and exposed to view a flight of steps
+cut in the face of the rock. So filled with dust were they, however,
+that they had not been visible to any but the sharp eyes of the Boy
+Scout leader.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt, as Rob made for the lip of
+the cliff.</p>
+
+<p>"Going down there, of course," rejoined Rob.</p>
+
+<p>Merritt, as he gazed over the brink and viewed the sheer drop, down
+which one false step would <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>have sent its maker plunging like a loosened
+stone, was about to utter a warning. He checked himself, however, and,
+with the rest, eagerly watched Rob, as the boy made his way down the
+precipitous steps, or rather niches, cut in the face of the rock.</p>
+
+<p>It was breath-catching work. The descending boy was compelled to cling
+to the surface of the cliff like a fly to a window-pane. Between him and
+the ground, four hundred feet under his shoe soles, nothing interposed
+but the narrow ledge of rock outside the cliff-dwellers' "front doors."</p>
+
+<p>Rob made the descent in safety, and presently stood in triumph on the
+ledge. One after another, the Boy Scouts of the Range Patrol followed
+him, and presently they all stood side by side on the narrow shelf.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, I hope the underpinnings of this don't give way," said Tubby, as
+he joined them, his round cheeks even ruddier than usual from the
+exertion of his climb.</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to have been an undertaker, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>Tubby," exclaimed Merritt. "All
+you can think of is death and disaster and ghosts."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if you feel so good about it, you can have the first chance at
+going into one of those holes," parried Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, I will," rejoined Merritt, flushing. He privately did not
+much relish the idea of being the first to enter those long-untrod
+passageways. They looked dark and mysterious. An oppressive silence,
+too, hung about the boys, and half-unconsciously they had dropped their
+voices to a whisper, as they stood on the threshold of a civilization
+long passed to ashes.</p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead," said Rob, coming to Merritt's side. Together the two boys,
+followed by the remainder of the newly recruited Boy Scouts, entered the
+rocky portal of the first of the dwellings.</p>
+
+<p>A faint, musty smell puffed out in their faces.</p>
+
+<p>"Smells like grandpa's cellar in the country," remarked Tubby, sniffing
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"Where you used to swipe milk and apples, I suppose," laughed Merritt.
+Hollow echoes of his merriment went gurgling off down the dark <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>passage,
+almost as if distant voices had taken them up and were repeating the
+joke over and over, till it died away in a tiny tinkle of a laugh, like
+the ghost of a baby's whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"Ugh, I guess I won't laugh again," remarked Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Rob, how about a light?" asked Jeb Cotton suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got a bit of candle here in my pocket," rejoined Rob. "I put it
+there the other night when Harry was developing some pictures. By the
+way, I wish you'd brought your camera, Harry."</p>
+
+<p>"So do I. This would make a dandy flashlight in here."</p>
+
+<p>The boys gazed about them admiringly, as Rob struck a match from his
+waterproof match-safe and lit the candle. They had penetrated fully a
+hundred feet into the cliff by this time, and the walls about them were
+marked with curious paintings and carvings, the work of the
+long-vanished cave-dwellers.</p>
+
+<p>Under their feet was a thick, choking dust, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>that entered their eyes,
+ears and noses as they breathed, almost suffocating them. But not one of
+them was inclined to notice this, when there was so much to take up his
+attention elsewhere.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what the cave-dwellers ate&mdash;&mdash;" began Tubby, when his words
+were fairly taken out of his mouth by a startling occurrence.</p>
+
+<p>A sudden puff of wind, chill as the breath of a tomb, blew toward them
+down the tunnel, and at the same instant Rob's candle was blown out. It
+was all the boys could do to keep from shouting aloud with alarm as they
+stood plunged into sudden blackness.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant there came an appalling sound, an onrush like the voice
+of a hundred waterfalls. The wind puffed in their faces in sharp blasts,
+and something swept by them in the darkness with a strange, muffled
+shriek.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>"L-l-let's get out of here&mdash;<i>quick</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Tubby gasped the exclamation, as with a resounding rush the mysterious
+sounds swept by.</p>
+
+<p>"Ouch, somebody hit me in the face!" howled Jeb Cotton suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Me, too!" yelled Bill Simmons.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, fellows," shouted Rob suddenly, as the noise lessened, "be quiet,
+will you, till I light a candle. I've an idea what that noise was, and
+it was nothing to get scared at."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it wasn't, eh?" protested Tubby angrily. "Well, something hit me a
+bang on the nose."</p>
+
+<p>"And me on the ear," chimed in Jeb Cotton.</p>
+
+<p>"And me&mdash;&mdash;" Bill Simmons was beginning, when Rob checked him.</p>
+
+<p>"Let up a minute, will you, and give me a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>chance? All that racket was
+caused by nothing more than a lot of old bats."</p>
+
+<p>"Cats, you mean, or flying rats," said Tubby scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>"No, bats. Look here. I knocked down one."</p>
+
+<p>Rob held his candle high above his head, and the astonished boys saw
+lying under a projecting bit of rock one of the leathern-winged
+cave-dwellers.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh," remarked Tubby, "and I thought it was ghosts. The ghost of the
+cliff. The one the cow-puncher said he saw."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess that ghost has leather wings and a furry body, if the truth
+were known," laughed Rob, as he flung the bat he had knocked down into
+the air, and the creature flapped heavily off toward the cave mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ghosts are&mdash;&mdash;" began Merritt, when he broke off suddenly. His
+mouth opened to its fullest extent, and his eyes grew as round as two
+big marbles. "Great hookey&mdash;what's that?"</p>
+
+<p>His frightened expression was mirrored on the rest of the countenances
+in the candle-lit <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>circle, as a strange sound was borne to the ears of
+the Boy Scouts.</p>
+
+<p>"It's footsteps," gasped Jeb Cotton.</p>
+
+<p>"Coming this way, too," stuttered Tubby, edging back.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense," said Rob sharply, but nevertheless loosening his revolver in
+its holster. "It's the wind or something."</p>
+
+<p>"The funniest wind I ever heard," interrupted Tubby scornfully. "It's
+got feet&mdash;hark!"</p>
+
+<p>Nearer and nearer came the mysterious sound. They could now hear it
+distinctly&mdash;a soft "phut-phut" on the dusty floor of the passage.</p>
+
+<p>"Wow-oo, I see two eyes!" yelled Tubby, suddenly taking to his heels.
+His toe caught on a hidden rock, and he fell headlong in the choking
+dust.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely less startled than the fat boy was Rob, as he made out, glaring
+at them from beyond the friendly circle of light, two big green points
+of fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's there?" he cried sharply.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>There was no answer, but the two green globes never moved.</p>
+
+<p>"Speak, or I'll fire!" cried the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"A-choo-oo-o&mdash;o-o-o-o-o!"</p>
+
+<p>The tense silence was shattered by a loud sneeze from Tubby, whose
+nostrils had become filled with the irritating dust. At the same instant
+an unearthly howl rang through the rocky corridors&mdash;a cry so terrible
+that it set Rob's heart to beating fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>He pulled the trigger more by instinct than anything else, and six
+spurts of flame leaped from the barrel of his automatic. With a howl
+more ear-piercing than the first, the points of fire vanished, and there
+was the sound of a heavy body falling.</p>
+
+<p>"Dead! whatever it is," was Rob's thought, but nevertheless he proceeded
+cautiously. It was well that he did so, for as he held his candle aloft,
+the huge, dun-colored body, which lay on the ground directly in front of
+him, made a convulsive spring. Rob, on the alert as he was, leaped back,
+and avoided it by a hair's breadth.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>"A mountain lion!" cried Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what, and a whumper, too," exclaimed Merritt. "I guess we've
+laid the ghost all right. In the moonlight a light-colored creature like
+this would look white against the cliff face."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if that last sneeze of mine killed it?" remarked Tubby, who
+had leisurely sauntered up. There was now no doubt that the great tawny
+creature was dead. Its final spring must have been a purely convulsive
+act, for Rob's bullets had pierced its skull in three places.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, fellows," exclaimed Rob suddenly, "the fact that this brute was in
+here proves a mighty interesting fact."</p>
+
+<p>"And that is, that it's dead."</p>
+
+<p>"Please be quiet for two consecutive minutes, Tubby, if you can do it
+without injuring yourself. It means that there is another entrance to
+this place somewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you make that out?" asked Jeb Cotton.</p>
+
+<p>"By applying a little scout lore. There are no tracks at the mouth of
+the cave, yet this lion <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>is fat and well-fed, so that it must get its
+food outside somewhere. Therefore, there must be another entrance to the
+cave."</p>
+
+<p>"Quod erat demonstrandum," quoth Tubby learnedly.</p>
+
+<p>"Which is all the Euclid you know," teased Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," asked Rob, while Harry Harkness skillfully skinned the lion,
+"shall we go on or turn back?"</p>
+
+<p>"We'll go on!" shouted everybody.</p>
+
+<p>"If you guarantee no more scares," amended Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>With the tawny pelt slung over Harry's broad shoulder, the little party
+therefore pressed on into the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll have to hurry," said Rob suddenly, regarding his candle, of which
+not much was left.</p>
+
+<p>"How far do you guess it is from the entrance?" questioned Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"I've no idea," was Rob's rejoinder. "I half believe now we were wrong
+to try to find a way out this way."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>He said this in a low voice, so as not to alarm the others, who were
+behind the leaders. It did indeed begin to look as if the young
+explorers had placed themselves in a predicament.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, however, the air began to grow fresher, and, uttering a cheer
+at this sign that they were near to daylight, the lads rushed forward.
+Still cheering, they emerged into a place where the passage broadened,
+and in another moment would have been out of the farther end of the
+tunnel but for an unexpected happening that occurred at that moment.</p>
+
+<p>Rob, who had been slightly in advance, gave the first warning of the new
+alarm. As the welcome daylight poured upon his face, and he gazed into a
+sort of cup-like valley beyond the passage mouth, he heard a sudden
+"z-i-ip!" past his ear, like the whizzing of a locust.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant fragments of rock scattered about his head and he heard
+a sharp report somewhere outside.</p>
+
+<p>Like a flash, the boy threw himself flat on his stomach and wriggled
+back into the tunnel.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>"They're firing at us!" cried Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but who?" demanded Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the question," was Rob's rejoinder. "I guess it must be Indians,
+but then, again, it may be hunters, who, having seen something move,
+fired. I'm going to try to find out."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Rob, be careful," begged Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right. Here, Bill, lend me that long pole you've got."</p>
+
+<p>Bill Simmons obediently handed over a long branch he had broken off to
+use as a guiding staff, before they entered the dark passageway. Rob
+pulled off his sombrero and stuck it on the pole.</p>
+
+<p>Then he cautiously poked it out of the rocky portal.</p>
+
+<p>"Bang!"</p>
+
+<p>Rob drew in the hat and examined it.</p>
+
+<p>"Phew!" gasped Tubby. "That's a fine way to ventilate a fellow's lid."</p>
+
+<p>A bullet had bored a hole right through the soft gray crown.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>"Guess that's Indians, all right," said Harry; "nobody else would be
+able to shoot like that."</p>
+
+<p>"It is Indians," announced Rob. "I saw one dodge behind some brush when
+I looked out."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what are we going to do?" gasped Charley, the younger of the
+Price brothers, a lad of about fourteen. His face grew long, and he
+began to whimper.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, hush up, there," admonished Tubby. "Boy Scouts don't cry when they
+get in a difficulty; they sit down and try to figure some way out of
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"And, in this case, that is easy," said Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Huh?"</p>
+
+<p>"I said it is easy. All we've got to do is to go back again."</p>
+
+<p>"What, without the candle? Make our way through that dark place?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. That is, if you don't want to get drilled full of holes by
+those Indian bullets."</p>
+
+<p>"But supposing they follow us?"</p>
+
+<p>"We'll have to take our chances on that," rejoined Rob.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>"Well, you're a cool hand, I must say. You calmly propose that we shall
+walk back through a dark tunnel, with Heaven knows how many Indians at
+our heels?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's all we can do, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Um-m-well, I suppose so. Come on, then, if we've got to do it, the
+sooner we start the better."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait one minute," said Rob, and, stooping down, he pulled up some dry
+brush that grew near the cave mouth. He piled this in a heap and set
+fire to it.</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever are you doing that for?" asked Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>"I know," said Jeb Cotton, "so that the Indians, or whoever it is firing
+at us, will see it and think we are still there."</p>
+
+<p>Rob nodded approvingly.</p>
+
+<p>"That's it," he said, and plunged off into the blackness of the tunnel.
+He led the others through it at a rapid pace, but they did not travel so
+fast that they beat the daylight, however, for when they emerged at the
+other end it was dark, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>and the stars were shining above them. Far below
+they could see little flickering points of fire, where the cow-punchers
+were keeping watch.</p>
+
+<p>"Wish we were down there," muttered Tubby, as they all emerged on the
+ledge. "I'm hungry."</p>
+
+<p>"So am I," agreed Rob, "and the quicker we get down the mountain the
+quicker we'll get some hot supper."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, from the mouth of the tunnel, which acted as a sort of
+gigantic speaking-tube, there came what seemed to be the hollow echo of
+a shout.</p>
+
+<p>"The Indians!" gasped Rob; "they're after us! Up the steps, everybody,
+quick!"</p>
+
+<p>A rush for the rough stone steps followed, and so fast did the boys
+press forward that Rob had to warn them of the danger of speed.</p>
+
+<p>"If you slipped you'd be over the edge," he said.</p>
+
+<p>It was enough. The rush moderated. The thought of slipping off into
+black space was enough to alarm the stoutest hearts among them.</p>
+
+<p>Tubby was the last up but Rob, who remained <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>behind with drawn revolver.
+He had nerved himself to fire at the first Indian head that showed out
+of the tunnel.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, up with you," Rob urged, as the fat boy placed his foot on the
+rough flight hewn in the sheer face of the cliff.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Rob," rejoined the stout youth, scrambling upward. "I'll be
+up before&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He broke off short, with a terrible cry that rang out far into the
+night.</p>
+
+<p>Rob, speechless with horror, saw the stout youth's feet slip from under
+him, and his hands clutch unavailingly at the smooth face of the cliff.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant&mdash;for the whole thing happened in the wink of an
+instantaneous photographic shutter&mdash;Tubby was gone.</p>
+
+<p>With a dreadful sinking of his heart, Rob stretched far over the edge of
+the ledge, which hung like some flying thing, between heaven and earth.
+Below him was utter blackness.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h2>CAPTURED BY MOQUIS.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>Too frightened to utter a sound, the others, who by this time had
+reached the summit of the cliff, gazed over into the inky depths beneath
+them. It was Merritt who first found his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Rob, oh, Rob! What has happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't ask me yet," gasped the boy below him, and, throwing himself flat
+on the narrow shelf, he peered over into the black void.</p>
+
+<p>"Tubby, Tubby!" he called softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Gee, that was a drop, all right!" came up a voice from below him.</p>
+
+<p>The astonished Rob almost fell over the edge of the ledge himself in his
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Tubby, is that really you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I guess so," came the voice below, "but I wish you fellows would hurry
+up and get me out of this; I'm hungry."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>"Gracious!" thought Rob; "fancy thinking of hunger in such a position as
+he is in."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm clinging to a tree," came up Tubby's voice. "I grabbed it as I was
+falling. It's only a very little tree, though, and I don't just know how
+long it'll bear me."</p>
+
+<p>"Get in as close to the roots of it as you can," breathed Rob, hardly
+daring to speak above a whisper for fear of dislodging his chum by the
+mere vibration of his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said Tubby, and Rob could hear him cautiously making his
+way along his slender aerial perch.</p>
+
+<p>Rob turned his face upward and hailed his corporal.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Merritt," he cried, "take the fellows, and get back to camp as
+quick as your legs will carry you, and then get back up here again.
+Bring ponies and ropes with you&mdash;all you can get of them, and maybe
+Blinky and some of the men had better come."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Rob. But how about you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll wait here. Hurry back, now."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>"We will," and an instant later Rob was alone, and his companions were
+making full speed to the camp.</p>
+
+<p>"How are you making out, Tubby?" called down Rob in a low tone.</p>
+
+<p>"All right. But my legs are cramped. Gee! I was lucky to strike this
+tree."</p>
+
+<p>"You bet you were. I noticed a few small ones clinging to the rocks as
+we peeped over, but I didn't think they'd ever be the means of saving a
+life."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't holler till we're out of the wood. It's bad luck."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they ought to be back within an hour with the ropes. I guess they
+can get ponies up that trail."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so," groaned Tubby. "I don't think I can hold out much longer."</p>
+
+<p>"Good gracious!" gasped Rob, "is the tree beginning to give?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, without grub, I mean. I tried to eat some of the leaves off this
+tree, but they're bitter and don't taste just right."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>"What! You've been moving about?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. I've got to have something to do."</p>
+
+<p>The very idea of any one's stretching their limbs in such a position as
+the fat boy's, almost made Rob's hair stand on end.</p>
+
+<p>"Tubby must have nerves of steel," he murmured, "or else not know the
+meaning of fear."</p>
+
+<p>Then he went on aloud:</p>
+
+<p>"For goodness' sake, don't move any more, Tubby. The slightest false
+move might send you off into space."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, I'll keep still," Tubby assured him, but in a free-and-easy
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, perhaps it's a good thing he isn't scared," thought Rob; "if he
+were, it would make the job of getting him up twice as difficult."</p>
+
+<p>For a long time he lay silent on the narrow ledge, so absorbed in the
+difficulties of the situation that he forgot everything. Even the
+recollection that there was a strong likelihood of the Indians pursuing
+them down the passage had entirely gone out of his mind&mdash;displaced by
+Tubby's accident. Suddenly the boy started up with a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>bound, which
+almost projected him over the ledge after Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>A hand had been placed on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Before Rob could utter a sound another hand was placed over his mouth
+and he felt himself lifted from his feet. Peering down into his face,
+the startled boy could make out, in the faint starlight, half a dozen
+cruel countenances.</p>
+
+<p>How bitterly he blamed himself for being thus caught off his guard! The
+simplest precaution would have kept him safe, but he had allowed the
+soft-moccasined red men to slip up on him without placing the slightest
+difficulty in their path. If ever a boy felt foolish and angry, it was
+Rob, as his silent captors slid noiselessly as cats into the black mouth
+of the tunnel of the cave-dwellers.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a fine scout to be caught napping like that," was his thought.</p>
+
+<p>But as the redskins bore him into the narrow portal, they were compelled
+to release one of his hands. Rob took advantage of this to break a
+shrub, in a way which he knew would indicate <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>as plain as print to any
+Boy Scout who saw it which way he had been carried off.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant they were in the black tunnel. The Indians ran swiftly
+but noiselessly, bearing in their sinewy arms the powerless boy.
+Frightened Rob was not. His brain was too busy thinking up some plan of
+escape for that. His uppermost emotion was impatient anger at his folly.
+Even a loose rock, placed at the mouth of the passageway, would have
+been tripped over by the Indians, and thus have given him warning of
+their coming. Bitterly he blamed himself for his oversight. More bitter
+still were his thoughts, as his mind reverted to poor Tubby, hanging
+alone in space, without any means of knowing what had become of Rob, for
+the shelf, or ledge, on which the sudden drama of his taking off had
+been enacted, overhung the cliff face as an eyebrow does an eye.</p>
+
+<p>On and on traveled the Moquis, almost noiselessly pitter-pattering along
+the dusty floor of the passage. They skillfully avoided treading on the
+carcass of the skinned mountain lion, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>it was not long before they
+emerged in the bowl-like valley in which Rob had seen the solitary
+marksman who had made a sieve of his hat.</p>
+
+<p>At the rocky portal the Moquis paused and grunted gutturally, and then
+started forward on a steady jog-trot once more.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, this is a luxurious way of riding," thought Rob, as he reposed in
+the sort of armchair the arms of the Indians formed, "if the
+circumstances were different, I wouldn't mind taking a long trip like
+this."</p>
+
+<p>It was so dark in the cup-like valley that the boy could see but little
+of the country. He only knew they were in the strange depression by
+noting how the dark walls upreared against the lighter hue of the
+star-sprinkled sky.</p>
+
+<p>Before long, however, his tireless kidnappers began to trot along over
+rising ground. For what seemed hours they traveled thus. Presently the
+boy became aware of a faint glare in the near distance. At the same
+time, the short, sharp yapping of a mongrel dog was borne to his ears.
+Before many moments had passed, they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>came in sight of several tepees,
+pitched under a grove of trees in a small, and seemingly inaccessible,
+ca&ntilde;on. The cook fires were lighted, and big pots hung over some of them.
+Children, squaws and dogs swarmed about, the curs yapping and snapping
+at each other. As the Indians who had captured the boy gave a shrill
+screech, the village literally boiled over with activity. From the
+tepees poured braves and squaws and more children. All rushed forward to
+meet the returning redskins.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they seem glad to see us," thought Rob to himself; "wish I could
+say the same for myself. If only I knew how Tubby came out, I'd feel
+better."</p>
+
+<p>As he was borne into the circle of firelight, the boy was surrounded by
+a curious, chattering crowd, who pulled his clothes about, and poked him
+inquisitively. Suddenly, a tall Indian, his face hideously daubed with
+red, yellow and black, emerged with a stately stride from a tepee
+covered with rude pictures of hunts and battles. He regarded the boy
+with a piercing eye for a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>moment, and then, raising his arm, pointed to
+another tepee, and gave some sort of an order.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly Rob's arms were seized and pinioned by the Indians who had
+brought him from the cliff, and he was hustled over the ground and flung
+roughly into the tepee.</p>
+
+<p>"So that's their game, is it," gritted out Rob savagely, every drop of
+his fighting blood aroused by the cold-blooded ferocity of his manner of
+entrance into the patched and smoky tent.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he went on, "there's no use getting mad, I suppose. Anyhow, it's
+a strange experience&mdash;captured by real Indians. That's more than any of
+the Boy Scouts at home can say, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>No attempt had been made to bind him, and Rob therefore peeped out of
+the flap of his place of confinement to see what was going on about him.</p>
+
+<p>His experience of Indians had hitherto been confined to the Wild West
+show variety. He was deeply interested in the life of the tepee village,
+as he watched it busily moving about him. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>savory smell of the
+Indians' supper, as they dispatched it, caused a strange sensation of
+emptiness about Rob's ribs, but no one came near him with food.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be hanged if I'll ask them for it," grunted Rob to himself,
+"especially after the way they chucked me in here."</p>
+
+<p>When the meal was over, the braves pulled out their clay-bowled pipes
+and smoked stolidly. Not one threw even a glance at his tepee, and Rob
+began to think they must have forgotten him. He grew terribly thirsty,
+and not far from the camp there must be a brook, as he realized, by
+hearing the silvery tinkle, tinkle of its waters over the rocks.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as no one will bring me a drink, I'll go and get one," thought
+the boy to himself, and he boldly threw back the flap of the tent and
+marched out.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant a wild hope flashed across him that he could escape. No
+attempt was made by any member of the smoking circle to check him, and
+the boy reached the bank of the stream <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>without the slightest
+interference being opposed to his movements.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try it," thought Rob. "I believe they've forgotten me."</p>
+
+<p>He placed his foot on a rock and was about to spring to the farther bank
+of the little creek, when a sharp voice behind him checked him abruptly:</p>
+
+<p>"White boy, come back!"</p>
+
+<p>The words came in the guttural, grunting tone that was unmistakably
+Indian.</p>
+
+<p>Rob wheeled, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a gleaming
+rifle-barrel.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h2>TUBBY'S PERIL.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>"That's queer; I don't see a sign of him."</p>
+
+<p>Merritt Crawford, on the return of the Boy Scouts with ropes and help,
+peered about the ledge for a trace of his leader, but in vain.</p>
+
+<p>"He can't have gone over, too."</p>
+
+<p>It was Blinky who suggested this alarming possibility.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't suggest such a thing," protested Merritt. "Hullo, Tubby!&mdash;below
+there&mdash;are you all right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fine and dandy, but snake down a rope as soon as you can, will you, and
+you might tie a sandwich on it, if you don't mind."</p>
+
+<p>"You can have your sandwich when we get you up," promised Merritt, as
+the others, despite their worry over Rob's disappearance, broke into a
+loud laugh at Tubby's unconcerned manner.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>"Come on, now, and lend a hand with the ropes," ordered Blinky, who had
+brought several lariats up on his pony, and was busily engaged in tying
+them together so as to form a long lifeline. Tubby had not yet been
+informed of Rob's disappearance, as it was feared that it might unnerve
+him.</p>
+
+<p>A fresh difficulty now presented itself. On the narrow ledge there was
+not sufficient room for the holders of the rope to brace themselves. To
+haul up the stout youth, therefore, it was necessary to return to the
+summit of the cliff. This was quickly done, but you may be sure that
+great caution was exercised in mounting the steps cut in the rock face.
+The fate of Tubby was fresh in their minds, even without the reminder
+that he was still clinging to his uncertain support, so far below them.</p>
+
+<p>Blinky began looking about for a suitable tree, around which to take a
+turn of the rope, as soon as they reached the summit. One was found
+about fifteen feet back from the lip of the precipice.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>"Now, then," ordered the cow-puncher, as he tied a big loop in one end
+of his long line, "we'll see if this will reach."</p>
+
+<p>He dropped it over the edge of the cliff and dangled it about so that it
+rattled against the rock. This was in order that the fat boy could hear
+it and indicate in which direction he wished it swung.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it near you, now, Tubby?" shouted Blinky, peering down into the
+darkness and tentatively swinging the rope.</p>
+
+<p>"A little more to the right," came up the stout boy's voice, as steady
+as if he was asking for another helping of ice cream.</p>
+
+<p>"That boy's grit clear through, even if he does like to play the giddy
+goat sometimes," muttered the puncher.</p>
+
+<p>"How's that?" he asked a minute later.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait, I'll reach out and grab it."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you dare do any such thing!" almost yelled the cow-puncher. "You
+might lose your balance, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped with a gasp. A jerk had come at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>the other end of the rope.
+Down there, out of sight, Tubby had hold of it. A succession of jerks
+told the holder of the rope on the cliff edge that he was making the
+loop fast about him.</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" finally hailed Tubby. Then in imitation of an elevator
+runner:</p>
+
+<p>"Go&mdash;ing up!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hold on a minute," croaked out Blinky, even his iron nerve a trifle
+shaken now that the crucial moment was near.</p>
+
+<p>He ran back to the tree and took a deft turn round the trunk. Then he
+extended the end of the rope to the boys and told them to "tail on."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to stand at the edge of the cliff and transmit orders from
+below. Mind you, obey them the instant you hear them."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. We will, Blinky," came in chorus.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Now hold on and when I tell you to start hauling, pull with
+all your might. That boy's a heavy load."</p>
+
+<p>"A hundred and forty pounds and still growing," volunteered Harry
+Harkness.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>"Well, that rope held a six-hundred-pound steer, so I guess it'll stand
+his weight. All I'm afraid of is a knot giving. I made them in the dark,
+you know."</p>
+
+<p>The cow-puncher, after giving a few more final instructions, ran to the
+cliff edge.</p>
+
+<p>"All right?" he shouted down.</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" rejoined Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>Blinky straightened up and turned back toward the boys, holding onto the
+rope.</p>
+
+<p>"Haul away, boys," he ordered.</p>
+
+<p>A cheer burst from the throats of the Boy Scouts as they tailed on the
+lifeline, and walked backward from the tree with it.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoa!" came a shout from below suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoa!" yelled Blinky, repeating the word.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" he hailed down, as the hoisting movement stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I'm bumping my delicate knees," came up in Tubby's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't be helped," yelled down Blinky. Then hailing the hauling line:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Pull away, boys."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>Steadily they pulled till the fat boy had been raised twenty feet or
+more from his tree. Suddenly he hailed Blinky.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoa!" roared the cow-puncher.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly the hoisting ceased.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, what is it, Tubby?"</p>
+
+<p>"I just thought of something."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"Say, lots of folks would pay money to see this, wouldn't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind that now. Are you all right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, except my knees."</p>
+
+<p>"Ha-ul a-way."</p>
+
+<p>The boys on the other end of the rope hauled steadily now, and the fat
+boy drew nearer and nearer to the ledge.</p>
+
+<p>As he rose higher, hanging suspended like a spider from the end of his
+gossamer thread between the sky and the ground, a sudden thought struck
+Blinky. It would be manifestly impossible to haul Tubby over the edge of
+the ledge which projected like the eaves of a roof. Hardly had the
+thought flashed across his mind before a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>shout of alarm came from the
+boys, simultaneously with a sharp:</p>
+
+<p>Crack!</p>
+
+<p>"The rope!" came a wild yell from the tree.</p>
+
+<p>"It's broken!"</p>
+
+<p>Blinky went white, and his knees shook. At the same instant the rope
+began to snake hissingly over the edge of the precipice. It had parted.
+Tubby was once more dropping downward like a stone.</p>
+
+<p>"Catch it!" roared Blinky, regardless of his own peril, throwing himself
+onto the fast-retreating rawhide. He gripped it, but was carried like a
+feather before the wind toward the edge of the cliff by the descending
+Tubby's weight. In another moment&mdash;for he obstinately refused to let
+go&mdash;he would have been over the edge, when the line suddenly tightened.</p>
+
+<p>"Hooray! I've got it."</p>
+
+<p>The shout came in Merritt's voice.</p>
+
+<p>The boy, with great presence of mind, had managed to catch the rope, and
+secure it before its end whipped round the trunk of the tree. As <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>the
+knot which had parted was in the section of the rawhide above the tree,
+this was possible. Had the rope broken between the tree and the cliff
+both Tubby and Blinky would have been dashed to death.</p>
+
+<p>"What parted?" roared Blinky, as soon as he had recovered his senses.</p>
+
+<p>"One of the knots. It slipped. It's all right, now we've fixed it!"
+hailed Merritt back.</p>
+
+<p>"Merritt, you're all right," shouted the cow-puncher, "if it hadn't been
+for you, I'd have been down among the cattle now. I'd have traveled by
+lightening express, too."</p>
+
+<p>As it was dark, the boys had not been able to see what the cow-puncher
+had done, so it was not till long afterward that they found out the
+meaning of his remark and learned of his courageous action.</p>
+
+<p>The cow-puncher feared that the sudden drop and the danger of the rope
+breaking again under the renewed strain might have frightened Tubby into
+a swoon. To his intense joy, however, in reply to his hail there came up
+a cheerful:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>"Say, what are you fellows doing? Having a game up there? You almost
+jolted the daylights out of me."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, we'll be more careful in future, Tubby," breathed the
+puncher, not daring to tell the boy what had actually happened.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you near the ledge, Tubby?" hailed the puncher suddenly, after an
+interval of hauling.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I think so. I can see a dark thing like a shelf right above me."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop!" shouted the cow-puncher to the rope handlers.</p>
+
+<p>The most difficult part of the enterprise was yet to come. They had to
+get the boy up on the ledge. To accomplish this at first was a poser,
+but Blinky finally solved it. Enjoining the rope handlers not to make a
+move till he hailed them, he slipped down the stone steps and reached
+the ledge. Arrived there, he peered over into the black void under his
+feet. Swinging a short distance below, he could distinguish a blacker
+object than the surrounding night. He could also make out a sound of
+humming. It was Tubby crooning <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>to himself as he swung on the end of the
+frail rope:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"See-saw! see-saw!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a s-um-mers day!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll be extra special, double-jiggered!" breathed the puncher, as
+he heard.</p>
+
+<p>He knelt on the edge of the ledge and spoke to the vocalist.</p>
+
+<p>"How's your nerve, Tubby?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fine, but it needs feeding," was the cheerful response.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, you'll do," rejoined the cow-puncher. "Now, then, Tubby, I
+want you to hang to the edge of this ledge by your finger tips for just
+two minutes. Think you can do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have to, won't I?" innocently inquired the stout youth.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, or&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Take a tumble," Tubby finished for him.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind about that," spoke Blinky sharply. Then cupping his hands to
+his mouth, he shouted upward:</p>
+
+<p>"Haul away! Slow, now!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>He placed his fingers on the taut rope and felt it slip upward through
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"Good old ropes," he murmured; "stretched like a fiddle string and sound
+as a ship's cable."</p>
+
+<p>Presently Tubby was hauled up level with the ledge.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop!" roared Blinky.</p>
+
+<p>He could have reached over in the darkness, and, catching the stout
+boy's hands, have hauled him up beside him&mdash;he could have, that is if
+Tubby had been able to assist him by digging his feet into the rock
+face. But this he could not do, as he was dangling from the lip of the
+ledge, fully three feet out from the face of the precipice, and with
+four hundred feet of empty space under the soles of his shoes. Moreover,
+in such case the cow-puncher would have nothing to brace himself with,
+and there would have been grave danger of his being dragged over by the
+other's suspended weight. Instead, therefore&mdash;necessity being the mother
+of invention&mdash;he had thought up a daring plan. What this was we shall
+soon see.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>"Can you grip the edge with your fingers, Tubby?" whispered the
+cow-puncher.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," rejoined Tubby, reaching up.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, then, grab it&mdash;and in Heaven's name, hold on!"</p>
+
+<p>With a single swift stroke of his knife, the cow-puncher slashed the
+rope, leaving Tubby with the loop draped uselessly under his shoulders.
+The fat boy's hold on the edge of the ledge was all that now lay between
+him and eternity.</p>
+
+<p>Blinky's breath came sharp and hard as he rapidly adjusted the rope
+around himself just under the shoulders. Then leaning forward, he seized
+the stout boy's wrists in his steel-muscled grip.</p>
+
+<p>"Haul!" he bellowed.</p>
+
+<p>The line tautened just as the cow-puncher braced his muscles.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop!"</p>
+
+<p>The line became motionless, holding the cow-puncher firmly on the ledge,
+while his hands gripped Tubby's wrists.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," breathed Blinky to himself, bracing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>every muscle till they
+seemed to crack. The sweat rolled down his face, and his features became
+contorted. Tubby was a heavier load than he had bargained for. But pluck
+and grit won out, and after a few seconds of this Titanic struggle the
+stout boy stood safe on the ledge beside his rescuer.</p>
+
+<p>"Got him!" muttered Blinky triumphantly. But even as he spoke he almost
+lost the rescued boy. All at once Tubby became as limp as a half-emptied
+sack of grain, and seemed about to slide backward out of the
+cow-puncher's arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, hold on, there! What's the matter?" roared Blinky in amazement,
+dragging him back.</p>
+
+<p>"Gone out, by the great horn spoon!" he exclaimed, as the rescued boy
+sank heavily in a dead swoon on the ledge beside his rescuer.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h2>A FRIEND IN NEED.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>"Hum!" said Rob to himself, with an accent of deep conviction.
+"Evidently these chaps keep a closer watch on their prisoner than I had
+imagined. I guess I'd better retire to my boudoir again."</p>
+
+<p>The Indian sentinel lowered his rifle as the boy turned, and eyed him
+stoically without any more expression on his stolid features than would
+have shown on the features of a mask.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," Rob said to him, nodding cheerfully. "Don't worry about me,
+old chap. I'm going to bed."</p>
+
+<p>If the Indian understood, he made no sign. Instead, he wheeled and
+solemnly followed the boy back to the tepee. Rob entered it and lay
+down. Presently, to his delight, some blankets were thrown in to him.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>"Well, if I can't eat I can sleep, anyhow," he said philosophically, and
+in a few minutes he was curled up in the coverings and off as soundly as
+if he was slumbering in a cot at the ranch house.</p>
+
+<p>It was dawn when Rob awoke, as he speedily became aware when the tent
+flap was thrown open, and he saw facing him a rather pretty young Indian
+girl who bore in her hand an earthenware dish.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!" said Rob, sitting up in his blankets.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo," rejoined the girl in a more friendly tone than Rob had yet
+heard in the Indian camp.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"My name Susyjan," was the response, as the girl set down the steaming
+dish, in which, as a concession to Rob, an earthenware spoon had been
+placed.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Susyjan," smiled Rob. "If you don't mind, I'm going to eat."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, you go ahead," acquiesced Susyjan, who, as Rob guessed, had
+been named after some white Susy Jane.</p>
+
+<p>"You talk pretty good English, Susyjan," <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>remarked Rob, between
+mouthfuls of the contents of the dish, which had some sort of stew in
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"Um! Me with Wild West show one time."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that so?" asked Rob, interested. "So you've been East?"</p>
+
+<p>"Um! New York, Chicago, Bosstown, every place."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe I've seen you in the show some place?"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you like best in the East, Susyjan?" asked Rob, after a brief
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Beads," rejoined Susyjan, without an instant's hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Beans?" inquired Rob, puzzled. "Oh, in Boston, you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"No beans&mdash;beads," pouted the young squaw. "Ladies' beads. Round
+neck&mdash;savee?"</p>
+
+<p>Rob nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I savee, Susyjan. So you like beads, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty much," rejoined Susyjan, nodding her smooth black head
+vigorously and showing her white, even teeth in two smiling rows.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>A bold idea came into Rob's head. Perhaps out of this young squaw's
+vanity he might contrive a means to escape. But he would have to go to
+work gradually, or she might betray him, and that would result, as he
+knew, in closer captivity than ever for himself.</p>
+
+<p>"What have they got me here for, Susyjan,&mdash;you know?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Um-hum. Big Chief Spotted Snake him say bimeby get plenty much money
+for you. Have big dance."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's the game, is it?" mused Rob. "Holding me for ransom. In that
+case, then, no wonder they are guarding me closely."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Susyjan," broke out Rob presently, "how you like to have lots of
+beads&mdash;fine ones, like white ladies wear?"</p>
+
+<p>The Indian girl clapped her hands, which to any one familiar with these
+unemotional people indicated that she was hugely excited over the idea.
+Presently her face clouded over, however.</p>
+
+<p>"How can?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Me give um you."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>"You?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I'll give you the finest set of beads ever strung together, but
+you have got to do something for me."</p>
+
+<p>"What that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bring a pony round to the back of the tent to-night."</p>
+
+<p>The girl shook her head positively. But Rob saw that mingled with her
+refusal was an admixture of keen regrets for the loss of the promised
+beads. She knitted her brow in deep thought for a few seconds, and then
+sprang up, radiant once more.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, white boy. Me get you pony. Charley One-Eyed Horse him very
+sick. I get you his pony."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, then, that's settled," said Rob cheerfully. "But how about
+you? Won't you get into trouble over it? I don't want that, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no," laughed the girl. "Charley One-Eyed Horse my uncle. Him very
+old man. Pony very old, too&mdash;plenty mean. I break rope. Braves think
+pony bust 'em and get away."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>Although the ethics of this didn't seem just straight to Rob, he was in
+no position to be very particular. More especially as the girl went on
+to tell him that the tribe expected to move on the next day, making for
+the valley in which the great snake dance was to be held. In the event
+of his being carried with them, Rob knew that his chances of escape
+would be problematical. If he was to make the attempt, he would have to
+carry it out as soon as possible.</p>
+
+<p>How the rest of that day passed, the boy could never tell. The feigning
+of sleepy indifference to things about him cost him the hardest effort
+he had ever known. The hours seemed to drag by. It appeared as if night
+would never come.</p>
+
+<p>Susyjan did not come near him again that day, and although he saw her
+moving about the camp at various times, she gave no sign of recognition.
+Once a dreadful thought flashed across Rob's mind. What if the girl had
+been used as a spy, and had betrayed his secret. This put him into a
+fever, but he was, of course, powerless to resolve <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>his doubts. Suspense
+was all that was left for him.</p>
+
+<p>As evening closed in, the agony of waiting grew worse.</p>
+
+<p>"Those fellows must have made up their minds to keep awake all night,"
+thought Rob, as hour after hour went by, and the Indians still sat,
+blanket-shrouded, by their fire, playing some sort of game with flat
+slabs of stone. Finally, however, even the most persistent players
+ceased and went to their tepees.</p>
+
+<p>By the dying fire there now stood only two figures, tall, motionless and
+apparently wooden. But Rob knew that they were sentinels posted to watch
+the tepee in which he was confined. He knew, also, that even though they
+did seem unconscious of everything, their little black eyes were alert
+and awake to the slightest move on his part.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I'll have to give it up for to-night," thought Rob, casting
+himself down on his blankets. He felt more despondent than he had at any
+time since his capture. The camp was now <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>as silent as a country
+graveyard. In the intense stillness he could even hear the occasional
+crackle of an ember falling to ashes.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the boy started, and gazed, open-eyed, at the back curtain of
+his tepee.</p>
+
+<p>Surely the flap had moved.</p>
+
+<p>After a few seconds' gazing there was no doubt of it. The flap slowly
+rose, and presently Susyjan's flat-nosed countenance peered into the
+gloom of the shelter.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, white boy," she whispered. "Me got pony."</p>
+
+<p>"Blessings on your black, clayed head!" breathed Rob under his breath.</p>
+
+<p>Silently as a stalking cat, he moved toward the back of the tent. In
+another moment he was out of it and under the starry canopy of the sky.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," whispered the young squaw, gliding like a snake into the dark
+fringe of forest behind the tepee. Rob followed as quietly as he could,
+but alas! he was not as expert as the girl. His foot struck a twig which
+snapped with a loud "crack!" under his tread.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>Instantly the motionless Indians by the fire galvanized into life. They
+looked about them in a startled way, and for one dreadful moment Rob,
+crouching in the shadow and hardly daring to breathe, thought that they
+were about to examine his tepee. To his intense relief, however, they
+contented themselves with gazing about them, and seeing nothing unusual,
+resumed their statue-like vigil.</p>
+
+<p>"White boy like lame cow. Plenty tumble," snickered Susyjan, while Rob's
+cheeks burned wrathfully. He took greater care from that time on, and
+managed to follow the noiselessly gliding girl without causing another
+alarm, while she led him in a circuitous route round the back of the
+encampment.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly they came to a hillside covered with wild oats, on which
+several dark objects that the boy made out to be ponies were hobbled.
+Deftly seizing one by the nose, the girl forced a rope "hackamore" she
+had brought with her into its mouth, and cast off its hobbles.</p>
+
+<p>Rob, with one hand on the little animal's rump, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>and the other on its
+withers, vaulted to the pony's back in a second.</p>
+
+<p>"Which way I go?" he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"Over there," rejoined the girl, pointing to the eastward. "Bymby find
+trail."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Susyjan; you're a brick," whispered Rob, "and I won't forget
+the beads."</p>
+
+<p>"Real ones, like white lady," insisted Susyjan.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure, and the whitest of them isn't any whiter than you," Rob assured
+her, as he dug his heels into the pony's bony sides and the little
+animal plunged forward. As he did so, Susyjan wheeled and vanished. It
+was important for her to be in bed in her tepee in case the alarm was
+given.</p>
+
+<p>"Slow and steady's the word, I guess, along here," mused Rob, as the
+pony picked his way among rough rock and stubbly brush. "If this little
+animal doesn't stumble and wake the whole camp, I'm in luck. Anyhow,
+Susyjan won't get in trouble over it now. That's one thing, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Crash!</p>
+
+<p>The little pony had done just what Rob <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>dreaded. Nimble as it was, a
+loose rock had proved its undoing, and it had come down on its knees
+with a crash. Instantly it scrambled up again, but as it did so a series
+of demoniacal yells rang out behind the boy.</p>
+
+<p>The alarm had been given.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there was added to the general confusion the sound of confused
+shooting.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! Bang!</p>
+
+<p>"Waking up the camp," muttered Rob, swinging the end of his rope
+hackamore and bringing it down over the pony's flanks with a resounding
+"thwack." "Now get a move on, Uncle One-Eyed Horse's pony, for if ever
+you carried a fellow in need, you've got one on your back to-night."</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<h2>A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>Pluckily forward plunged the pony, as if anxious to redeem his untimely
+stumble.</p>
+
+<p>"It'll take them some time to get to their ponies and unhobble them,"
+thought Rob. "If I've luck, I may get away yet."</p>
+
+<p>Keeping steadily to the direction the girl had pointed out, the boy
+pressed on at as fast a clip as he dared. The farther he rode ahead of
+the pursuing tribe, the better chance he stood of getting beyond their
+earshot.</p>
+
+<p>It was risky riding, though, through an unknown country on such a dark
+night. What sort of going it was under foot, Rob could only tell by the
+uncertain gait of the beast he bestrode. Bushes occasionally brushed in
+his face, scratching it, and once in a while an extra strong bunch <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>of
+chaparral would press against his legs, almost brushing him from his
+pony's back.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the way took a steep downward pitch.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope this isn't another precipice," thought the boy, as the pony
+half-slid, half-clambered down in the darkness. Presently his hoofs
+splashed in water, and Rob knew they were crossing a creek. He drew back
+on his single rein and listened intently. Fortunately the wind, what
+there was of it, set toward him.</p>
+
+<p>Borne on it he could hear distant shouts and cries. To his intense
+satisfaction, it seemed to him that they were farther off than when he
+had first heard them.</p>
+
+<p>"Gained on them!" muttered Rob triumphantly. "Now, if daylight would
+only come along&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But it was long to wait till daylight, and in the meantime Rob did not
+dare remain where he was. The Indians probably knew the mountains like a
+book, and would work them on a system. In such an event his only
+salvation lay in keeping moving. All at once he stopped, with a sudden
+heart leap, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>as his pony scrambled up the farther bank of the creek.</p>
+
+<p>A shrill cry sounded close behind him.</p>
+
+<p>Could it be possible that the advance guard of the Indians had
+approached him so nearly?</p>
+
+<p>The next instant Rob gave a laugh of relief. The shrill cry came again.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoo-to-too, who-o-o!"</p>
+
+<p>"Only an owl," exclaimed the boy. "Hullo, though, that's funny! There's
+another answering it&mdash;and by George! there's another!"</p>
+
+<p>From the woods to the right and left had come similar hoots to the
+owl-like sound he had noted behind him. At the same instant, the
+unmistakable sound of a dislodged stone bounding and rattling down the
+steep incline he had just descended was borne to his ears.</p>
+
+<p>"That's no owl," gasped Rob, "it's Indians!"</p>
+
+<p>As he realized how badly he had been fooled, his pony topped the rise.
+To any one below in the hollow, the outline of the pony and the boy
+showed blackly against the stars. Suddenly a sound like an angry bee in
+full flight hummed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>close to Rob's ear, and the next moment there came a
+sharp report behind him.</p>
+
+<p>Instantaneously the hoots to the right and left flanks redoubled, and
+began closing in. All at once one of the birdlike cries sounded right in
+front of the escaping white boy.</p>
+
+<p>He was hemmed in by Indians!</p>
+
+<p>The craft of the red men had proven too much for Rob. Even the darkness
+had not prevented their unerringly tracking him. By their skillful
+woodcraft and keenness of perception they had succeeded in discovering
+him and surrounding him.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Rob's heart stood still. Then, as a second shot whizzed
+by his ear, aimed by the unseen marksman below, he urged his pony on
+over the rise.</p>
+
+<p>The advance, however, over the rocky ground sounded as loud as the
+approach of a squadron of cavalry. Wild cries and yells rang out on
+every side of the boy. What was he to do?</p>
+
+<p>One of those inspirations born in moments of keen stress came to him in
+his extremity. If all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>went well, he would fool the Indians yet, hard as
+they were to deceive.</p>
+
+<p>Slipping noiselessly from his pony as he rode under a dark clump of
+pi&ntilde;on trees, the boy turned it loose. The little animal, to his
+surprise, immediately turned backward, heading round toward the camp.
+But this turn of events, at first alarming, ultimately proved to be the
+very best thing that could have happened for Rob, who had at first hoped
+that the pony would trot forward.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians, hearing its rapid footsteps galloping back, reasoned that
+Rob, realizing that he was headed off, had turned his mount in a
+desperate effort to escape that way. Yelling like demons, and
+discharging their rifles in an almost continuous fusillade, the Indians
+wheeled and rode after the retreating pony. Naturally, the more they
+shouted and fired, the faster the little animal ran, and every step took
+them farther from Rob, who was crouching under his pi&ntilde;on trees.</p>
+
+<p>Not till they got back to their camp did the redskins discover that the
+white boy had served <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>craft with strategy, and outwitted them. It was
+then too late to follow up the pursuit that night. The redskins knew
+that any one cunning enough to have devised such a trick would not have
+stood still while they were chasing a will-o'-the-wisp in the opposite
+direction to their desired quarry.</p>
+
+<p>And they were right in this assumption. Rob, as soon as the beat of
+their ponies' hoofs had grown faint, had chuckled to himself at their
+mistake, and silently as possible resumed his journey. If it had been a
+hard ride, it was a doubly hard tramp he had before him.</p>
+
+<p>Susyjan had told him that a trail lay not so very far ahead. In the
+darkness it was possible that he might have lost it. If he had, without
+food or water, he would soon be in a serious position. But Rob,
+nevertheless, determined that his best course lay in pushing on, and
+through the darkness he steadily and pluckily advanced.</p>
+
+<p>Presently he began to ascend what he knew must be a hill or
+mountainside. This complicated the problem. To go on along level ground
+was one thing, but to attempt to continue his way over <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>an acclivity as
+steep as the one that faced him seemed foolhardy. Every step he took
+might be leading him farther and farther astray.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, for a nice soft bed!" muttered Rob. "But not having one, a good
+flat stone would do."</p>
+
+<p>Soon afterward, following a lot of feeling about, he managed to find a
+flat-surfaced rock which seemed to promise well for a rough and ready
+couch. To the boy's delight, it retained some of the warmth of the sun
+which had beaten on it all day, and had he possessed a blanket to throw
+over it, might not have proved unacceptable as a sleeping place.</p>
+
+<p>Casting himself down on it, Rob soon dozed off, nor did he awaken till
+the blackness turned to the gray that preceded the dawn. Viewed by
+daylight, Rob found his surroundings such that he was glad that he had
+not proceeded any farther during the night. He lay on a hillside behind
+a screen of chaparral. But what caused him to feel some apprehension,
+when he thought of what might have happened had he continued his
+journey, was the fact that below his rock quite a steep <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>slope dropped
+down to the valley below. It was a drop of some thirty feet, and while
+in the daylight any active man or boy could have clambered down it
+without injury, in the dark night it might have meant broken bones.</p>
+
+<p>But Rob had little time to think of such possibilities. Something else
+suddenly occupied all his attention, and that something was an odor of
+frying bacon!</p>
+
+<p>Mingled with it came the unmistakable aroma of tobacco. Somebody was
+camped near him, that was a certainty. His first impulse was to shout,
+but he checked it. It speaks volumes for the Western training that the
+boy was rapidly acquiring when it is said that before he showed himself
+from behind his chaparral, he gazed cautiously through that leafy
+screen.</p>
+
+<p>Below him he saw three figures seated about a fire, over which was
+frying the bacon that had aroused his hunger almost to the exclamation
+point. The three campers, whose ponies were tethered a short distance
+from them, had their backs turned to Rob, but presently one of them
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>turned to reach something from a saddle bag. Rob came very near to
+uttering a startled exclamation and betraying his hiding place as he saw
+the man's features.</p>
+
+<p>It was Hank Handcraft.</p>
+
+<p>The former beachcomber wore Western clothes and had trimmed his once
+luxuriant and scraggly beard, but he was none the less unmistakably
+Handcraft. Nor, as almost simultaneously Hank's companions turned, was
+Rob's astonishment at all lessened, for one of them was Bill Bender and
+the other was the ranch boy to whom he had given a lesson in jiu
+jitsu&mdash;Clark Jennings.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurry up and stow your grub, Hank," Clark was saying. "We've got to
+light out of this neighborhood for a while and stick around the ranch."</p>
+
+<p>"You think that old Harkness is suspicious, then?" inquired Hank.</p>
+
+<p>"No, our disguises were too good. I'll bet they're cussin' the Moquis
+now."</p>
+
+<p>"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Bill Bender. "That was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>a great idea, dressing up
+like Indians. I guess we got even on old Harkness for driving those
+sheep off his pastures."</p>
+
+<p>"You bet! and we'll do worse to him before we get through," grunted
+Clark. "It's pie for me. More especially as I can get even, at the same
+time, with that young sniffler, Harry Harkness, and his friends from the
+East&mdash;your old pals, Bill."</p>
+
+<p>"No pals of mine. You can bet your life on that," grunted Bill. "The
+best thing I'd heard for a long time was when you told me about Jack
+Curtiss shoving that kid Rob into the river. I'd like to have seen it.
+If it hadn't been for those Boy Scouts, as they call themselves, Hank
+and Jack and I would have been East now, instead of in this God-forsaken
+country."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you kicking at?" laughed Clark. "You've done pretty well since
+you've been here, and if we can get that bunch of mavericks of
+Harkness's, we'll all have a pocketful of money."</p>
+
+<p>"When are you going after them?" asked Hank, placing a big bit of bacon
+on a hunk of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>bread and gnawing on it in a satisfied way that set Rob
+half crazy to watch.</p>
+
+<p>"Soon as they are turned out on the Far Pasture. When they get over the
+scare of the stampede, they'll leave the place unwatched, and we'll have
+our chance. We ought to get five hundred apiece out of it, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>"That would look good to me," grunted Hank.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the scoundrels!" breathed Rob to himself. "They're plotting to
+steal some of Mr. Harkness's mavericks. I remember now hearing him speak
+of turning them out in the Far Pasture."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we can clear out and get back East," concluded Bill, "and take
+poor old Jack with us. He isn't making out very well."</p>
+
+<p>"Sort of hanger-on in that gambling place, isn't he?" asked Clark.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess that's what you'd call it."</p>
+
+<p>Soon after the group saddled up their ponies and prepared to leave their
+temporary camp. That they were on the trail, after having concluded
+their dastardly attempt to stampede Mr. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>Harkness's cattle, Rob had no
+doubt, judging by their conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"Better put that fire out!" warned Clark. "Scatter the ashes. We don't
+want any one trailing us."</p>
+
+<p>The three worthies bent together over the ashes, while their saddled
+ponies stood eying them at some short distance.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess I'd better pull back out of this before they take it into their
+heads to look around," thought Rob, who in his eagerness to hear what
+was going forward below had thrust his head out through the bush which
+screened him.</p>
+
+<p>With the object of drawing back again, he braced himself on one hand and
+pushed backward. How it happened he never knew, for he had been very
+careful, but suddenly the small rock on which the pressure of his hand
+rested gave way with a crash.</p>
+
+<p>Clawing wildly at the bush, Rob sought to save himself from being flung
+headlong down the hill into the camp below him, but it was too late.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>Down the hill he shot at lightning speed, in the midst of a roaring,
+rattling landslide of rocks and earth.</p>
+
+<p>The men in the camp started and turned as the sudden uproar of Rob's
+involuntary toboggan slide reached their ears.</p>
+
+<p>"What the&mdash;&mdash;" shouted Hank Handcraft.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is&mdash;&mdash;" began Clark, when Rob's feet caught him in the stomach and
+cannoned him against Hank Handcraft. Clutching wildly to prevent his own
+fall, Hank caught Bill Bender's sleeve, and the next instant all three
+of the campers were rolling in a confused mass in the ashes of their
+fire.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a bear!" yelled Hank.</p>
+
+<p>"Bear nothing!" bellowed Clark Jennings, as Rob scrambled to his feet
+and darted off like a shot. "It's a boy!"</p>
+
+<p>"After him!" shouted Bill Bender, snatching up a rifle and aiming it.
+"That kid's Rob Blake."</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h2>WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT?</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>But even as the former Long Islander raised the weapon to his shoulder,
+it was dashed down by Clark Jennings.</p>
+
+<p>"Look out, you idiot!" he bellowed. "Do you want to kill the ponies?"</p>
+
+<p>Rob, the instant he had recovered his self-possession, which preceded
+the recovery of the surprised plotters by some seconds, had made a dash
+for the ponies, which, as has been said, stood, saddled and bridled,
+near at hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Yip-yip!" he screeched, as he leaped onto the back of the first one he
+reached.</p>
+
+<p>Excited by the shouts and cries of the three amazed campers, and
+half-crazed by Rob's sudden leap onto its back, the animal plunged
+forward and vanished in a flash into the dark woods which veiled an
+abrupt turn in the trail.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>"Now, shall we shoot, Clark?" urged Bill Bender.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; waste no time doing that. Hank, you stay here and look after
+things. Come, Bill&mdash;quick&mdash;the ponies!"</p>
+
+<p>In a second Bill and Clark were mounted and dashing off down the trail
+in a cloud of dust, in hot pursuit of the lad.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think he heard what we were talking about?"</p>
+
+<p>Clark Jennings propounded the question as they clattered down the trail.
+Not far in front they could hear the rapid hoof beats of Rob's mount.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know. The minute he came sky-hooting into the camp I'd a notion
+it was some one I've seen afore some place," rejoined Bill vaguely.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; but do you think he overheard?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dunno. We weren't expecting company, and therefore didn't lower our
+voices. Say, Clark, what if&mdash;what if he did hear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then Harkness will find out everything."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, if&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>"Well, if what?"</p>
+
+<p>"If we don't bring him down. If we should kill him, we could easy blame
+it on the Indians. In fact, I guess the ranch folks would conclude the
+redskins did it, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>Clark's ruddy face grew pale at Bill's sinister suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>"If he overheard, he knows enough to send us all to jail," prompted
+Bill.</p>
+
+<p>"That's right, too. Do you think you could&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Clark hesitated, as if the thought his mind held was too dreadful for
+him to voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Bring him down, you mean?" inquired Bill cheerfully. "Don't know. We're
+hitting up a hot pace for good shooting."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Bill, I think you are the most cold-blooded fellow I ever met."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm cool, all right, in such a case as this," rejoined Bill.
+"Hark!"</p>
+
+<p>Both drew rein for a second and listened. The beat of hoofs in front of
+them suddenly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>slackened. So near was the sound that it seemed as if it
+could not have been more than a few feet ahead.</p>
+
+<p>"Right through that brush there!" whispered Clark, and hot as the day
+was, he shivered as if stricken with a sudden fever.</p>
+
+<p>Bill Bender coolly raised his rifle. He deliberately aimed it into the
+leafy screen. The next instant its deafening report rang out. It was
+followed by a loud crash from beyond the bushes, as if some heavy body
+had fallen.</p>
+
+<p>Clark fairly turned his pony round. He was too much of a coward even to
+dare to ask the question that forced itself to his lips. No such qualms
+assailed Bill Bender, however. He pressed spurs to his pony, and in a
+second flashed round the trees that hid what lay on the trail beyond. A
+second later a loud cry of astonishment broke from his lips. It was
+mingled with curses.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" hailed Clark tremblingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Come here."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Bill, I don't want to. I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>"Come here, I say. There's nothing to be afraid of."</p>
+
+<p>Thus urged, Clark, whose cheeks were still ashen under the bronze, urged
+his pony forward, and presently joined Bill. The latter had dismounted,
+and was standing over a dark, still object in the road.</p>
+
+<p>It was the pony Rob had borrowed so hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>It lay stone dead, pierced in a vital spot by Bill Bender's bullet.</p>
+
+<p>"But the b-b-boy, is he&mdash;&mdash;" stuttered Clark.</p>
+
+<p>"He's gone!" exclaimed Bill.</p>
+
+<p>"Gone?" echoed Clark in an amazed tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, clean wiped out."</p>
+
+<p>"But how?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ask me an easy one."</p>
+
+<p>"Hasn't he left a trail?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, that's what makes it so queer. He must have had an aeroplane."</p>
+
+<p>For half an hour or more both youths searched the dusty trail and beat
+in and out of the dense brush, but not a trace of the missing boy
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>rewarded their close scrutiny of the surroundings. Had the earth opened
+at that spot and swallowed Rob up bodily, he could not have vanished
+more utterly. The only trace of the missing boy was his sombrero, lying
+by the dead pony.</p>
+
+<p>Absolutely dumfounded with amazement, the two worthies finally gave up
+their search, and taking the saddle and bridle off the dead pony, made
+their way back to their camp, carrying Rob's broad-brimmed hat.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>At about the same hour that Clark and Bill were searching among the
+pi&ntilde;on and scrub growth for some solution of the mystery of Rob's
+inexplicable disappearance, an equally perplexed party was assembled on
+a small rise some miles away. The latter group consisted of Mr.
+Harkness, his son, the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Corporal Merritt
+Crawford and Tubby Hopkins, Blinky and two other cow-punchers.</p>
+
+<p>The day before, following the rescued Tubby's return to the ranch with
+his companions, the expedition to find the missing Rob had been
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>hurriedly formed. The cliff face had been reached in quicker time than
+would have seemed possible, and an examination by the cow-punchers and
+the Boy Scouts soon showed which way Rob had been carried off.</p>
+
+<p>The broken shrub at the entrance to the tunnel, with the end pointing
+into the darkness, indicated clearly enough to Merritt that Rob had made
+a Boy Scout sign that his trail lay that way.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving their ponies in charge of one of the cow-punchers who had
+accompanied them that far, the party had proceeded through the tunnel on
+foot. They were led by Blinky, who was almost as expert a trailer as an
+Indian, and had at the present moment arrived near the site of the
+Indian camp from which Rob had escaped the night before. Had the boy
+only known it, on his wild flight he had passed within a few miles of
+those who were searching for him in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>With the earliest light they had picked up the trail once more, and now
+they had reached its <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>termination, the camp of the Moquis. But to reward
+their activity and perseverance they found only black ashes and
+scattered traces of cooking and stabling. Of the camp itself, all trace
+had vanished.</p>
+
+<p>Blinky bent over the ashes and stirred them with his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"Been gone some hours," he announced, after an examination. "The ashes
+are plumb cold."</p>
+
+<p>"How far do you think they will have proceeded by this time?" inquired
+Mr. Harkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe twenty miles or more," rejoined the cow-puncher. "It's hard to
+tell. These redskins travel fast, boss, as you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do know," rejoined the rancher bitterly; "especially when they
+have a good reason to. But what do you suppose they carried off the poor
+boy for?"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe they figgered he was a spy from the Indian territory, and maybe
+they thought they could get a good price for him if they held him long
+enough."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess you are right, Blinky," said the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>rancher sadly, sitting down
+upon an outcropping rock.</p>
+
+<p>He flicked his riding boots meditatively for some seconds with his
+rawhide quirt, which he still carried, and then spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," he said, addressing the little party, "those Moquis have carried
+off Rob. There's no doubt of that. The question now is, shall we follow
+them up, or shall we go back and get the ponies, and thus lose valuable
+time? I think it only fair to tell you that I am for going forward."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess there's no need to take a vote, Mr. Harkness," smiled Merritt,
+gazing at the determined faces of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol.
+Every member of the body was there. Harry and the telephone had seen to
+that as soon as they had made certain that Rob had been carried off.</p>
+
+<p>"We've got enough to eat with us," put in Tubby, "so there's no reason
+why we shouldn't go ahead."</p>
+
+<p>As Tubby said, the party had brought rations <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>with them which, though
+not very plentiful, were enough to last until they struck a further food
+supply.</p>
+
+<p>"Then forward it is," said Mr. Harkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Ye-ow!" yelled the cow-punchers.</p>
+
+<p>The boys joined in their wild shouts, but their enthusiastic start was
+suddenly thrown into silence by an unexpected incident. Hoof beats
+sounded on the trail, and as everybody turned expectantly in the
+direction from whence the sound had proceeded, they were astonished to
+see two ponies emerge, carrying three men.</p>
+
+<p>The new arrivals were Clark Jennings and Bill Bender, and, seated behind
+the latter, Hank Handcraft. The faces of all three took on a guilty,
+confused air as they perceived that, instead of riding, as they had
+expected, into a camp of Moquis, they had unexpectedly encountered the
+last persons whom at that particular moment they wanted to meet.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<h2>BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>If astonishment and uneasiness were depicted on the countenances of
+Clark Jennings and his companions, equally amazed looks were cast upon
+the newcomers by Mr. Harkness's party. The rancher was the first to
+recover his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Clark," he said rather sternly, "what are you doing here?"</p>
+
+<p>"We're not stealing sheepmen's land and feed from them, Mr. Harkness,"
+spoke up Clark boldly, as soon as he saw by the rancher's manner that
+the party was not, as he had at first feared, aware of Rob's strange
+fate.</p>
+
+<p>"We won't discuss that old question now, Clark," said Mr. Harkness
+leniently. "As long as there are sheepmen and cattlemen that question
+will always be productive of strife, more's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>the pity. Besides, certain
+fence-cutting incidents&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You can't say I cut your fences!" sputtered Clark angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not. I never dreamed of doing such a thing&mdash;without the
+proper evidence."</p>
+
+<p>The rancher threw a grim emphasis into these last words.</p>
+
+<p>"What we want from you now, Clark, is information."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" asked the other in sullen tone.</p>
+
+<p>"We have lost track of a young man who was my guest at the ranch,"
+explained Mr. Harkness, his dislike of being compelled to ask
+information of Clark Jennings showing in his face. "His name is Rob
+Blake&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Those two fellows know him well enough," broke out Merritt, pointing at
+Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft. The faces of those two worthies grew
+green as the boy pointed accusingly at them. Unwittingly Merritt had
+come near hitting the nail on the head when he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>connected them in a
+vague way with Rob's disappearance.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what if we do know him?" growled Hank sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Harkness knows the mean tricks you put up on us in the East, so you
+needn't try to pretend you never met us before," went on Merritt
+angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come, Merritt," interrupted Mr. Harkness, "this will do no good.
+Whatever happened in the East is past and gone. What we want to know now
+is if they have seen Rob?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, we ain't," declared Clark boldly. "Why, do you think he's lost
+hereabouts?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's what we are afraid of. The Indians carried him off, and here, as
+you see, they were camped last night. I cherished a hope that he might
+have had the good fortune to escape."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know anything about it," rejoined Clark in a more amiable tone,
+now that he saw that no suspicion attached to him.</p>
+
+<p>"What yer ridin' two on one pony for?" asked Blinky suddenly.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>"None of your business," rejoined Clark. "I guess we can ride the way we
+like."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess so," echoed Hank. "Fine way they interfere with
+gentlemen's preferences out here in the West."</p>
+
+<p>"You had three ponies when you started out," pursued Blinky, looking at
+the spurs on Hank's feet, and noting the extra saddle which Clark
+carried behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"We did not."</p>
+
+<p>"What yer got the extra saddle for, then, and what's he got on spurs
+for, just ter decorate his handsome figure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I can if I want to, can't I?" demanded Hank.</p>
+
+<p>"We're looking for a stray pony," explained Clark glibly. "That's why
+we're carrying the saddle&mdash;to put on him when we find him. That, too,
+accounts for the spurs. Anything else you'd like to know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," demanded Merritt, his eyes blazing and his voice shaking with
+excitement as he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>stepped forward. "<i>Where did you get Rob Blake's
+sombrero?</i>"</p>
+
+<p>His eye had fallen on that article of headgear just as Hank had clumsily
+tried to conceal it. Merritt instantly recognized it by the stamped band
+about its crown.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I&mdash;we&mdash;that is&mdash;it's my hat," lied Hank clumsily.</p>
+
+<p>"That's not true, and you know it!" shouted Merritt, carried away by
+rage. "You know where Rob Blake is. You&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Crack!</p>
+
+<p>The boy staggered back, half-blinded, as Bill Bender raised his heavy
+quirt and cut him full across the face with it.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, boys!" shouted Clark, as Merritt reeled backward. "Let's get
+out of this."</p>
+
+<p>The two ponies sprang forward, leaving the ranch party half-stunned by
+the suddenness of Bill's brutal blow. But it was only for a second. In
+that interval of time Blinky's face had grown wrinkled and drawn with
+anger, and his hand had slid back to his hip and produced his
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>forty-four. In another instant Bill would have paid dearly for his
+blow, but the rancher's hand fell on the cow-puncher's arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that way, Blinky," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, boss," rejoined Blinky regretfully; "but it would have been
+a heap of satisfaction to have let daylight into that coyote's carcass."</p>
+
+<p>"Those fellows know where Rob is!" shouted Merritt, across whose face an
+angry red ridge lay, marking where the quirt had struck him. "Stop
+them!"</p>
+
+<p>"Steady on, boy, steady on," said Mr. Harkness in an even, cool tone.</p>
+
+<p>"And we without a spavined cayuse to follow 'em!" raged one of the
+cow-punchers.</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, the three tormentors of the ranch party topped the little
+rise.</p>
+
+<p>As they did so, Clark Jennings rose in his stirrups and faced back.</p>
+
+<p>"Ye-ow!" he yelled defiantly, waving his hat mockingly toward them.</p>
+
+<p>Bang!</p>
+
+<p>The sombrero was suddenly whirled out of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>youth's hand as if some
+invisible grasp had been laid upon it.</p>
+
+<p>Blinky looked apologetically at Mr. Harkness, and then carefully blew
+the smoke from the barrel of his pistol, the weapon with which he had
+just punctured Clark's headgear.</p>
+
+<p>"Awful sorry, boss," he said contritely, "but I just plumb couldn't help
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know that I blame you," said Mr. Harkness, as the Clark
+Jennings party vanished in a hurry.</p>
+
+<p>The encounter with the three ne'er-do-wells had, however, changed the
+rancher's plans. Deducing from the fact that Hank Handcraft had Rob's
+hat in his possession, that the boy must have escaped from the Indians
+in some miraculous way, it was concluded that it would be a mere waste
+of effort to pursue the Moquis. The search must now be made for Rob
+himself. Even Tubby's spirits were dashed by the disturbing occurrences
+of the last few hours, and he and Merritt were both silent as the party
+made its way back to the cliff where the ponies had been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>left the day
+before. The plan now was to mount and scatter through the range.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll run a fine-tooth comb through it," was the emphatic way Mr.
+Harkness put it, "and if we don't find the boy, it'll be because he
+isn't on the top of the earth."</p>
+
+<p>All that day they retraced their steps, and at night made camp not far
+from the entrance to the tunnel. They did not dare to proceed in the
+dark, for fear of once more losing their path, and even more valuable
+time. It was not a lively party that settled down in the evening glow
+for a hastily cooked and not over-abundant supper. Even Tubby seemed
+distracted and worried.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Merritt, who was walking up and down, trying to evolve some
+theory to fit the facts in Rob's case, gave a shout and pointed over to
+the southwest.</p>
+
+<p>"Look, look!" he shouted. "Off there&mdash;what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>The boy's keen eyes had espied a thin spiral of blue smoke ascending
+from a hilltop against the burnished gold of the sunset.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>"A signal fire!" announced Blinky, after an interval.</p>
+
+<p>"It may be Rob signaling for help!" exclaimed Merritt, as the smoke rose
+and vanished and rose and vanished at regular intervals.</p>
+
+<p>"No, it ain't him. The Boy Scouts use the Morse, don't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. What has that to do with it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, this is Injun code."</p>
+
+<p>"Indian?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. The Injuns have as distinct a smoke-signal code as we have a
+wireless system. It works just as good, too, from what I can hear. Now,
+if we had their code book we&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What, the Indians have a code book?"</p>
+
+<p>"You bet."</p>
+
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"In their rascally heads, son, where it's safe," rejoined the
+cow-puncher.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, look! There's an answer," cried Tubby, suddenly pointing to
+another hilltop some distance from the first.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>Another thin column of smoke was rolling upward from it in evident
+answer to the first.</p>
+
+<p>"Those fellows are making a date," decided the rough-and-ready Blinky.
+"I'd like to be on hand when they keep it, and maybe we'd find out
+something about Rob."</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+
+<h2>IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>Blinky's conviction that the signaling had something to do with Rob
+would have been strengthened if he could have been so stationed as to
+watch the making of the first smoke telegraph Merritt noticed. On the
+distant hilltop Clark Jennings, Hank Handcraft and Bill Bender were
+stooped over a fire of green wood, alternately covering and uncovering
+it with a horse blanket. The signaling was being done under Clark's
+direction, as neither of the Easterners knew anything about the Indian
+smoke language. Clark, during his long residence in the West, had picked
+up his knowledge of it from Emilio Auguardo, the halfbreed who had once
+worked on his father's ranch. Through this man, too, he had become quite
+an intimate of the Moquis, as we have seen.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>"Douse it! Uncover it. Douse. Uncover. Douse. Uncover."</p>
+
+<p>Clark Jennings's commands came in regular rotation, with differing
+intervals between each order. In all essentials, those three enemies of
+the boys were using a telegraph code antedating by centuries the system
+in use to-day on our telegraph lines.</p>
+
+<p>"Ought to be getting an answer soon," muttered Clark, shading his eyes
+with his hand and standing erect on an upraised slab of rock, the better
+to command a view of the distant hills in the section in which he had
+reason to believe the Moquis had proceeded.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold on! Douse that fire!" he cried suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>Against the sky, not more than five miles distant, an answering thread
+of smoke had unrolled, like the coils of a slow serpent. Up it wavered
+and then stopped abruptly, to be followed by another puff. It was as if
+a locomotive lay beyond the distant hill. The puffs of smoke resembled
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>the vaporous belchings of an engine stack when it is starting up.</p>
+
+<p>"They say for us to wait here and they will send a messenger," announced
+Clark finally.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess we can wait as well as anything else," rejoined Hank
+Handcraft, extending himself lazily on the sun-warmed ground. "Are they
+going to send a pony?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know," rejoined Clark shortly. "Wonder what we'll do if Harkness
+hits our trail?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't bother about that. He'll be too busy rounding up that boy Rob,"
+replied Bill Bender. "Queer where that kid went to."</p>
+
+<p>"Queer is no word for it," agreed Clark; "and what bothers me is that we
+are likely to have trouble with him yet if we're not careful."</p>
+
+<p>"You think he is alive, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Must be, unless he melted into thin air."</p>
+
+<p>"That's so."</p>
+
+<p>"By the way, Clark," struck in Hank Handcraft suddenly, after a period
+of deep thought, aided by the consumption of sweet grass stalks,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>"wouldn't the present time be a good one to drop in on Harkness's
+mavericks?"</p>
+
+<p>"By thunder! you're right," was the reply. "Harkness is pretty sure to
+have the whole ranch force, or every one he can spare, spread out,
+seeking for that young cub. The Far Pasture will be pretty sure to be
+left unguarded. You're right, Hank; we'll see what the chief has to say,
+and then, if we can get a few Indians to help us, we'll make the big
+drive. Ha, ha! won't Harkness be sore if he finds the boy, to discover
+that it's cost him the loss of a few thousand dollars' worth of beef!"</p>
+
+<p>In further discussion of their plans the three worthies spent the next
+hour or so. By that time it was dark, and the thin, silver nail-paring
+of the new moon showed above the eastern hilltops. It grew very still,
+the deep silence being broken only by the hoot of an owl or the chirping
+of some night insect.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, and quite near at hand, a twig snapped loudly. Instantly the
+hands of each of the three flew to their weapons, but an instant <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>later
+they perceived that they, at least, had no cause for alarm from the
+newcomer who had thus announced his arrival. It was an Indian that stood
+before them while they still stared in a startled way into the dark
+shadows.</p>
+
+<p>"Chief Black Cloud!" exclaimed Clark, as the figure silently glided into
+the small circle, shrouded in the folds of a heavy blanket.</p>
+
+<p>The chief had tied his pony some distance away, and had advanced with
+customary stealth on the camping place of his allies.</p>
+
+<p>"How!" grunted the chief, squatting down on his haunches. "You want
+talk?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's the reason we lighted up our little wireless plant,"
+grinned Hank.</p>
+
+<p>"Hum! My brother with the hair on his face is foolish," snapped the
+chief, while the others laughed aloud at Hank's discomfiture. He did not
+again adopt a flippant tone toward the impressive figure which sat in
+council with them.</p>
+
+<p>"Chief Black Cloud," began Clark, "in the Far Pasture of Harkness, the
+rancher, below the places of the dwellers in the cliff, are many young
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>cattle. They are unbranded, and if we can cut them out and get them
+away we can all be rich&mdash;make heap money."</p>
+
+<p>"Um!" grunted the chief, waiting for what was to come.</p>
+
+<p>"Harkness and his men are all away, seeking for a lost boy&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hum! Black Cloud know," interpolated the Indian.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you <i>did</i> take him off!" burst out Bill Bender. "Why didn't you
+have sense enough to keep him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" ordered Clark sharply. He was sufficiently conversant with
+Indian character to know that the chief might be mortally offended by
+adverse comments on anything his tribe might have seen fit to do. But
+Black Cloud paid no attention to the interruption.</p>
+
+<p>"What you want Moquis to do?" inquired the chief, going right to the
+heart of the matter, for he had quite acumen enough to reason that from
+the conciliatory tone Clark adopted he had some service to ask.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>"That you will help us on the cattle drive," rejoined Clark boldly.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No can do," he said decisively. "Mayberry, the Indian agent, is in the
+mountains seeking us now."</p>
+
+<p>Here the chief permitted himself a grim smile.</p>
+
+<p>"But Mayberry kind man. If we go back to reservation, make no trouble,
+everything all right. All the same as before. But if we steal the cattle
+of the white men, then the white man visit us with his anger."</p>
+
+<p>"It will be easy and no chance of being found out," urged Clark.</p>
+
+<p>But the chief shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No. My people here for snake dance. Not for steal white man's cattle."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you won't help us?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll be sorry for it, you old idiot!" snapped out Clark, foolishly
+letting his temper get the better of him for an instant.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian drew himself up with haughty <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>dignity. Slowly he gathered the
+folds of his blanket about him. Then, and not till then, did he speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Black Cloud is never sorry for his deeds. But perhaps white men will
+sorrow for theirs," he said, with extraordinary dignity and force, and
+the next instant he was gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Clark, it seems to me you've put your foot in it," muttered Hank,
+as the offended Indian strode off.</p>
+
+<p>"He looked Black Cloud by nature, as well as by name," commented Bill
+Bender. "He glared at you as if he would read your thoughts, Clark."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not," laughed the young ranchman, though with a rather uneasy
+note in his assumed carelessness, "for they had a lot to do with him, I
+can tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"That we'll have to do the Indian act again."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, steal the cattle, disguised as Moquis. But come on, hit the trail.
+We'll be getting back to the ranch. I'll tell you as we go."</p>
+
+<p>As my readers will have seen, the above <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>conversation throws a strange
+side light on Indian morality. The Moquis, of whom Chief Black Cloud was
+patriarch, had had not the slightest objection to "hold up" the boys and
+to capture Rob for ransom, but at the seriously punishable crime of
+cattle stealing they balked. What the consequences of this decision were
+to be to Clark Jennings and his companions we shall see later on. At the
+Jennings ranch they met Jess Randell, and here the four sat late,
+discussing the big coup which they hoped was to retrieve all their
+fortunes. At length they arrived at a decision, and arranged a plan
+which they deemed offered every security against discovery.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>It is now time to revert to the fortunes of Rob, of whom we last heard
+when the three worthies into whose camp he had been catapulted with such
+velocity were searching in vain for a clew to his whereabouts. As will
+be recalled, after leaping on the back of Hank Handcraft's pony, the boy
+had dashed off down the trail at top speed, without a very clear idea of
+where he was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>bound for. As he rode he heard the sounds of the pursuit,
+and simultaneously with the sharp report of Bill Bender's gun, he felt
+his pony halt and stagger beneath him.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant of time it seemed to Rob as if he was bound to be
+captured by his pursuers, but in his extremity his mind worked with the
+lightning-like rapidity common to quick intelligences in moments of
+great stress.</p>
+
+<p>At the precise instant that his little mount gave a groan and plunged
+forward into the dust of the trail, Rob reached above his head and
+seized the low-hanging branch of a small, stout tree. With the activity
+of the practiced athlete, he swung himself up into the thick greenery as
+the poor pony lay in its death struggles below. Rapidly working his way
+among the branches, he was soon several feet from the trail.</p>
+
+<p>While Bill Bender and Clark Jennings were hanging over the dead pony and
+searching in vain for the boy's trail, Rob was noiselessly making his
+way over rocks and stones down into a deep-timbered gully. He could
+hardly keep himself <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>from an exultant laugh as he pictured the chagrin
+and amazement of his old enemies at his total disappearance.</p>
+
+<p>He rapidly sped on, and after an hour or more of traveling, feeling
+himself safe once more, he halted. Up to that moment he had pressed on
+without feeling much fatigue. The excitement of the rapid happenings
+since he had slipped upon the Indian pony's back had sustained him. Now,
+however, that he felt comparatively safe, the inevitable relapse came.
+Rob's knees began to feel strained and weak, as they had never felt
+before. His head, too, buzzed queerly, and a feeling of overpowering
+lassitude assailed him in every limb.</p>
+
+<p>"Good gracious! am I going to play out?"</p>
+
+<p>The boy asked himself the question with every feeling of dismay.</p>
+
+<p>He was in a solitary, remote part of even those wild mountains, and
+although he was on a small eminence, he could see nothing at any point
+of the compass but dreary, monotonous woods or rocky patches of
+sun-burned wild oats and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>foxtail. By the height of the sun and its
+direction, he guessed that it was about noon, and that he had been
+traveling in a southerly direction, but even of this, in his sudden
+collapse, he had no very clear notion. All he really knew was that he
+craved food with a wild, aching longing in his every fibre that had
+never before assailed him.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if starving men in cities ever feel like this?" the boy asked
+himself. "Woof! I could eat a horse raw cheerfully."</p>
+
+<p>Then came an interval of utter lassitude of mind and body, in which the
+boy lay stretched out on the hot ground, without a thought of anything.
+A strange ringing began to sound in his ears and his head felt dizzy.</p>
+
+<p>"Got to get out of the sun," he thought in a dim, remote sort of way.</p>
+
+<p>He voiced his thought aloud, and his tones sounded faint and far away to
+him, like the accents of another person.</p>
+
+<p>"Brace up, Rob, brace up," he began repeating to himself, as he made for
+a patch of deep shadow under a bush covered with a kind of purple
+berry.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>But in spite of his determination to "brace up," even the slight effort
+of crawling to the grateful shade bothered him so badly that, having
+reached it, he could only lie on his side and pant like an exhausted
+creature.</p>
+
+<p>All at once a sound was borne to his ears that made him sit up
+erect&mdash;the bright light of hope gleaming in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Heavy footsteps were coming toward him. The boy cared little whether the
+advancing individual was friend or foe. His coming meant food, at least;
+for surely no enemy could be so inhuman as to refuse nourishment to a
+boy in the pitiable condition of Rob Blake.</p>
+
+<p>"There's something queer about those footsteps, though," mused the boy,
+as the sounds drew nearer, accompanied by a sort of low, growling
+grumbling.</p>
+
+<p>What can it be?</p>
+
+<p>"Sounds like&mdash;like&mdash;&mdash;Great Scott! Silver Tip!"</p>
+
+<p>Into the small clearing on one side of which Rob lay beneath his
+sheltering bush, there had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>suddenly lumbered the half-legendary monarch
+of the Santa Catapinas.</p>
+
+<p>It was Silver Tip, the giant grizzly! For a second the monster's small,
+piglike eyes glared in blank astonishment at the encounter. He was
+hunting honey, and this sudden meeting with a white boy in the wildest
+part of his own particular domain evidently had struck him "in a heap,"
+so to speak.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant, however, the expression of his wicked little optics
+changed to one of active malevolence. He swung his great bulk savagely
+about&mdash;like the giant heavings and swayings of a picketed elephant. The
+small spot of snow-white hair that gave him his name shone out on his
+dark, shaggy hide like a bull's-eye. It was right over his heart. If Rob
+had had a rifle, he could have pierced it as unerringly as a target.</p>
+
+<div class="img">
+<a href="images/imagep218.jpg">
+<img border="0" src="images/imagep218.jpg" width="48%" alt="the boy leaped to his feet" /></a><br />
+<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;"> With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed
+straight at his monstrous shaggy opponent.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>But the lad was weaponless, and almost unconscious from fatigue and
+exhaustion. Indeed, delirium had been dangerously near when Silver Tip
+came lumbering into the clearing. The sight <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>of the monster had tipped
+the delicately adjusted balance.</p>
+
+<p>With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed straight at his
+monstrous shaggy opponent. In sheer astonishment, Silver Tip reared his
+immense bulk upward.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha, ha! I'll kill you, you old thief, you old murderer!" yelled Rob
+deliriously, as he hurled his slight form straight against the monstrous
+hairy tower of rugged strength.</p>
+
+<p>The great forepaws&mdash;armed with claws as sharp and heavy as chilled-steel
+chisels&mdash;extended. In another instant the lad would have been in the
+monster's death grip, when an intervention, as sudden as it was
+unexpected, occurred.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE INDIAN AGENT.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>From the dense surrounding clumps of chaparral there had suddenly
+emerged the figure of a tall, bearded man, with keen blue eyes and a
+striking air of self-reliance and resolution. It was Mr. Mayberry, the
+Indian agent. Over his arm he carried an automatic rifle, which he
+instantly jerked to his shoulder as his amazed eyes fell on the
+extraordinary scene before him. Surely Jeffries Mayberry was the first
+man who had ever gazed upon the spectacle of a boy, unarmed and alone,
+attacking the hugest grizzly in that part of the country.</p>
+
+<p>"The boy is mad!" was his first thought, and, as we know, he was not far
+wrong in this surmise.</p>
+
+<p>But it was no time for speculation as to the causes of this strange
+scene, and Jeffries <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>Mayberry was not the man to indulge in rumination
+when the necessity called for immediate action.</p>
+
+<p>Bang!</p>
+
+<p>For the twentieth&mdash;or was it the hundredth?&mdash;time in his eventful life,
+Silver Tip felt the impingement of a bullet. But with the monster's
+usual good fortune, the ball did not pierce a vital part. Instead, it
+buried itself in the fleshy part of the brute's forequarters, inflicting
+a wound that made him bellow with pain and face round on this new foe.</p>
+
+<p>As Silver Tip, in regal majesty, swung his huge form about, Rob crumpled
+up in a heap and lay senseless on the hot ground.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant it looked as if the great monarch of the Santa Catapinas
+meant to attack the Indian agent. But it seemed that he changed his mind
+as he faced him. An animal so relentlessly hunted, and so often wounded
+as Silver Tip, becomes endowed with almost human cunning and reasoning
+power, and part of Silver Tip's immunity from mortal wounds had
+doubtless been due to this. Most grizzlies, when wounded, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>charge
+furiously on their tormentors, thus assuring their fatal injury. These
+had never been Silver Tip's tactics. He had always preferred to "fight
+and run away, and live to fight some other day."</p>
+
+<p>So it was now. For the space of a breath, the two splendid specimens of
+human kind and the animal kingdom stared into each other's eyes. In his
+admiration of the magnificent brute before him, Jeffries Mayberry held
+his fire. He could not bring himself to kill the splendid creature
+unless such an action became necessary in self-defense. Were there more
+hunters like him, our forests and plains would not have become
+devastated of many of the species once so plentiful among them.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the bear's eyes turned away under the steady scrutiny of the
+plainsman, and with a growl that was half a whine, he dropped on all
+fours and lumbered off.</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky for you you didn't hurt this boy, or even your splendid majesty
+wouldn't have saved you," muttered Jeffries Mayberry, reaching the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>unconscious Rob's side in three or four rapid strides.</p>
+
+<p>"Hum! in bad shape," he murmured, laying open the boy's blue flannel
+shirt and placing a hand over his heart. "Good thing I happened along
+when I did, and&mdash;&mdash;Hullo!" he gave a long, low whistle of astonishment.
+"It's one of those kids that my bad boy Moquis held up this side of
+Mesaville. Well, here's a discovery."</p>
+
+<p>He stood erect, and placing his fingers to his lips, blew a shrill,
+piercing call.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant a splendid cream-colored horse came bounding into the
+clearing, shaking his head impatiently and whinnying as his large liquid
+eyes fell on his master.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, Ranger," said Mayberry, addressing the beautiful steed as if it
+had possessed the faculty of understanding. "Here is a poor boy overcome
+for want of food and water, and I think he's got a touch of the sun.
+We've got to get him home, Ranger."</p>
+
+<p>Ranger pawed the ground with one forefoot and his nostrils dilated. His
+keen senses <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>indicated to him that a bear had been about, and if there
+is one creature of which Western horses are thoroughly afraid it is his
+majesty, King Bruin.</p>
+
+<p>Perceiving this, Mayberry spoke a few reassuring words to the splendid
+horse, which instantly quieted down, though it still glanced
+apprehensively about it. The Indian agent's next action was to place
+Rob's senseless form across the saddle, while he himself swung rapidly
+up behind the cantle.</p>
+
+<p>Lightly pressing the rein to the left side of his horse's glossy neck,
+the Indian agent urged it forward into the chaparral. Ranger's dainty
+skin shivered at the rough touch of the prickly stuff, but he went
+unflinchingly in the direction his master guided him.</p>
+
+<p>After an hour or more of riding, Mayberry emerged on a curiously located
+open space. It lay at the bottom of a saucer-like depression, which
+might, in some remote day, have been a volcanic fire basin. Now,
+however, it was covered with a luxuriant growth of wild oats, and at the
+bottom <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>bubbled up a little spring. All about it shot up scarred
+mountain sides, with scanty timber hanging to their rocky ribs. In the
+midst of this isolation and wilderness it looked strange to see a small
+cabin located. It was somewhat tumbledown, to be sure, and had, in fact,
+been erected there in the early fifties by a wandering prospector.
+Jeffries Mayberry, seeking a convenient spot from which to keep up his
+surveillance over his Moquis, had stumbled upon it by accident, and with
+an old woodsman's skill had rendered it quite habitable.</p>
+
+<p>So, at least, Rob thought, when half an hour later he recovered
+consciousness in the cool gloom of the shanty. He was lying on a bed of
+fragrant boughs, and above him was the shingle roof of the hut, through
+holes in which he could see the blue sky.</p>
+
+<p>"Where on earth am I?" was Rob's first thought, as consciousness rushed
+back like a tide that has been temporarily stemmed.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually the events preceding his collapse grew clear to him, and he
+retraced recent <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>happenings up to the appearance of the grizzly. Of his
+delirious attack upon the monster, he had, of course, no recollection.</p>
+
+<p>"I must get up and find out where this is, and how I got here," was
+Rob's first thought, and with this intention he rose to his feet. To his
+intense astonishment, the room instantly whirled dizzily about him, and
+the earthen floor seemed to rise and smite him in the face. What had
+happened was that the weakened boy had fallen headlong. As he lay there,
+a hearty voice rang out in an amused tone:</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, hello! Pretty weak, ain't you, for a boy who wanted to fight
+grizzlies with his bare hands?"</p>
+
+<p>Rob looked up. The big form of Jeffries Mayberry stood framed in the
+doorway.</p>
+
+<p>He came forward and, gently as a woman, placed Rob on the couch.</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;why, it's Mr. Mayberry!" gasped Rob, as his eyes fell on his
+companion's kindly, bearded features.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it's me, right enough," laughed the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>Indian agent. "And now, if
+you'll lie quiet for a minute, I'll see how some rabbit stew is getting
+along. How does that sound?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fine!" smiled Rob, and, indeed, the mention of food had set all his
+appetite on edge again. "But see here, Mr. Mayberry, I don't want to be
+babied this way. I'm going to get up and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You are going to do nothing of the sort," exclaimed the Indian agent.
+"Here, Ranger." Again he gave the peculiar whistle, and Ranger's dainty
+head appeared inquiringly in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"Watch that boy, Ranger, and if he tries to get up&mdash;grab him!"</p>
+
+<p>With these words, the kind-hearted Indian agent vanished, to superintend
+the composition of the stew he was making over a camp fire outside.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," thought Rob, "this is a funny situation. I'm in a hut, and
+haven't the least idea how I got here. A horse is set to guard me,
+and&mdash;&mdash;I wonder," he went on, "if that horse is really a watch dog, or
+if that was just a bluff."</p>
+
+<p>It was a good evidence of Rob's returning <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>vitality that he stretched
+out a foot to test Ranger's watchfulness.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly the sharp, pointed ears lay flat back on the horse's head, and
+the whites of his eyes showed menacingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I'll stay here!" laughed Rob.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he resumed his posture, Ranger's ears came forward, and the
+kind light came back into his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I've heard of horses that were broken that way," thought Rob, "but this
+is the first I have ever seen."</p>
+
+<p>Had Rob known it, such horses as Ranger&mdash;animals trained to the same
+wonderful pitch of intelligence&mdash;are not uncommon in the Southwest.
+Presently Mr. Mayberry appeared with a bowl of what to Rob smelled more
+appetizing than anything he had ever known.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h-h-h!" he exclaimed, as his nostrils caught the savor.</p>
+
+<p>"Wade in," said Mr. Mayberry, placing the dish on a rough, home-made
+table by his side. And "wade in" Rob did. He could have finished <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>half a
+dozen more bowls like it&mdash;or so he felt&mdash;but Mr. Mayberry told him that
+after such a fast as he had endured it was important to "go slow."</p>
+
+<p>So much better was the boy after dispatching the meal that he was able
+to get up, and after a short time spent in staggering about, he quite
+recovered his faculties.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said Mr. Mayberry, "tell me how you came to be where I found
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>Rob told him, his narrative being interrupted from time to time by
+exclamations of astonishment from the Indian agent.</p>
+
+<p>"This youth, Clark Jennings," interrupted Mr. Mayberry once, "has been a
+thorn in my side for years. His father is almost as bad. They have
+frequently committed all sorts of outrages on ranchers and implicated
+the Indians in them. Not only that, but they have paid the most
+unprincipled of the Moquis to help them in their cattle stealing and
+fence cutting."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder they haven't ever been captured," said Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Mr. Mayberry, "as the saying <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>goes, it is almost impossible
+to 'get the goods' on them. And you say you know this cousin of his from
+the East, and his companions?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," rejoined Rob, "some time I will tell you about our
+experiences in the East with their gang. They actually kidnapped one of
+our Boy Scouts, and imprisoned him in a hut."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, they could have been imprisoned for that!"</p>
+
+<p>"They would have been if it had not been for the fact that they fled to
+the West."</p>
+
+<p>Rob soon concluded his narration, and Mr. Mayberry then related to him
+some of his own movements of the last few days. Despairing of rounding
+up the Moquis by moral suasion, he had telegraphed to Fort Miles for a
+detachment of troops. He was to meet them the next evening at Sentinel
+Peak, a mountain about ten miles from his present camping-place. The
+Indian agent had succeeded in locating the valley in which the great
+Snake Dance was to be held, and, in consequence, was ready to raid it
+with the troops at the height of the ceremonies.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>"Such an action will break up their practices for many years," he
+declared.</p>
+
+<p>"When are you going to start for the peak?" asked Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"I had not intended to leave till to-morrow," said Mr. Mayberry, "but
+since you have told me you are anxious that your friends should be
+informed of your safety, I must start this evening in order to reach a
+settlement from which I can telephone to the Harkness ranch."</p>
+
+<p>Rob's heart sank. Mr. Mayberry had not said "we." The boy had hoped it
+would be possible for him to go along. The Indian agent saw his manifest
+disappointment and hastened to reassure him.</p>
+
+<p>"I would gladly take you," he said, "but it is too arduous a trip for
+even Ranger to carry more than one. You will be safe here till I return
+with the troops. I will come by here with an extra horse, and, if
+possible, with your friends, and then we will ride together on the
+Moquis."</p>
+
+<p>A shrill whinny suddenly sounded outside.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, what's the matter with Ranger?" <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>exclaimed Mr. Mayberry,
+springing up, followed by Rob.</p>
+
+<p>Outside the hut the boy saw a strange sight. The splendid horse was
+gazing about him apprehensively, and stamping the ground impatiently.
+His nostrils were dilated, showing red inside, and his whole appearance
+was one of intense nervousness.</p>
+
+
+<p>"What's the matter with him?" asked Rob, noting in a swift glance that
+Mr. Mayberry's face had become suddenly clouded.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Mayberry succinctly, "there are only two things which make
+him act like that&mdash;Indians and bears&mdash;and I reckon there are no bears
+about right now.</p>
+
+<p>"But Ranger scents danger," he went on. "I am certain of it. Old horse,
+you'll have to carry double, after all."</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
+
+<h2>BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>It was mid-afternoon of the day following the start of Mr. Mayberry and
+Rob, riding double, from the shanty in the lonely basin. Gathered in the
+big living room of the ranch house of the Harkness range was a cheerless
+little group, consisting of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Mr.
+Harkness and several cow-punchers, including Blinky. They had returned,
+disheartened and apprehensive, a few hours before, from a painstaking
+search of the mountains for a trace of Rob. But they had found
+absolutely none, and as Mr. Harkness had just said, felt as if they had
+indeed reached "the end of the rope."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't think, then, there is a chance of our finding him?"</p>
+
+<p>It was Merritt who spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid, much as I dislike to say it, my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>boy, that we have used up
+every possible resource at our command," rejoined the rancher.</p>
+
+<p>"Then what are we to do? We can't give up the search like this. He may
+be wandering about in the mountains now."</p>
+
+<p>"With nothing to eat," put in Tubby tragically.</p>
+
+<p>"I only wish you could suggest something," said Mr. Harkness in a weary
+tone, that made Merritt ashamed of his querulous speech.</p>
+
+<p>"What your experience has been unable to suggest it is unlikely that we
+could think of," he rejoined. "I've only one thing to say, Mr. Harkness,
+and that is that we delay notifying his parents in the East till the
+last flicker of hope has died out."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean that we may still hear some news of him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know Rob Blake," rejoined Merritt, "and if he has an ounce of
+strength he will make his way back."</p>
+
+<p>"But the tracks of the big bear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Silver Tip," put in Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"That looks bad, I know," stubbornly rejoined <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>Merritt; "but somehow I
+feel that Rob will yet come out all right."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so, I am sure," breathed Mr. Harkness fervently.</p>
+
+<p>As the reader will have guessed by the rancher's remark, the searching
+party had encountered the tracks of the big grizzly in the course of
+their wanderings. Huge as were the monster's paws, there was no danger
+of mistaking them for those of any of his kindred. The fact that the
+huge brute was on that side of the range had proved a disturbing factor
+in the hunt for Rob Blake. It indicated another source of danger to the
+missing boy, aside from the peril of Indians, hunger and thirst, and
+many other dangers that he might have to face.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Mr. Harkness started up from the big hewn-oak chair in which he
+had flung himself, and sat up, listening intently. The others did the
+same, Blinky running to the window.</p>
+
+<p>"There's some one on a pony coming over the foothills like blazes bent
+for election!" he announced.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>"Wh-o is it?" demanded Mr. Harkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't make out. Doesn't ride like any of this outfit," said Blinky.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe it's news of Rob," exclaimed Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>The same thought flamed up in the heart of each of the returned
+searchers.</p>
+
+<p>"It's an Indian!" cried Blinky suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Can tell by his riding. I can see his blanket flapping out, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps he has news of the boy."</p>
+
+<p>"He knows something of importance; he wants to get here quick," was the
+cow-puncher's rejoinder. "He's spurring on that plug of his for all he's
+worth. Indians don't ride that hard unless they are in a hurry."</p>
+
+<p>Everybody was on their feet now, and by common consent a movement toward
+the door began.</p>
+
+<p>They had not long to wait before the rider galloped up, and drew rein so
+violently as to cast his mount back on its haunches. As Blinky had said,
+the newcomer was an Indian. He had evidently ridden long and hard. His
+pony's coat <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>was covered with a coating of dust, and his blanket was
+whitened with the same stuff. The paint on his face was almost
+obliterated by the same substance.</p>
+
+<p>"How!" he exclaimed, gazing with a hawklike intensity into the ring of
+faces.</p>
+
+<p>"How!" said Mr. Harkness in the same manner. "Black Cloud!" he exclaimed
+the next instant, as the chief slipped from his pony.</p>
+
+<p>The chief nodded gravely, and then looked about him uneasily. He
+evidently did not like to be the centre of so many curious faces.
+Divining his thought, the rancher invited him inside, ordering one of
+the cow-punchers to take the chief's pony.</p>
+
+<p>"Has&mdash;has he news of Rob?" begged Merritt, pressing forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, see here, Merritt," said Mr. Harkness, not unkindly, "the way of
+an Indian is one of the wonders of the world. You leave him to me, and
+if he does know anything of the boy I'll get it out of him."</p>
+
+<p>Together the Indian chief and the rancher <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>passed into the living room
+of the ranch house, and the door closed on them.</p>
+
+<p>For more than an hour they remained closeted, and then they emerged once
+more. Black Cloud, so the eager boys noticed, looked more than usually
+grim and determined, while Mr. Harkness's face bore a stern look. The
+Indian's pony, which had been fed, watered and rubbed down, was brought
+round for him, and he cast once more a searching glance about him. Then,
+without a word, he leaped upon his little animal's back and dashed off.</p>
+
+<p>"He&mdash;he had news?" demanded Merritt, the foremost in the rush that
+instantly surrounded Mr. Harkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, grave news," was the reply; "but come inside. I will tell you all
+he told me. In the first place, to relieve your anxiety, I must tell you
+that while Rob was for a time a prisoner of the tribe, he is so no
+longer, having, as we surmised after we saw his sombrero on that scamp's
+saddle, escaped."</p>
+
+<p>"Then nobody knows where he is?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>"That's it."</p>
+
+<p>Blank looks were exchanged as they clustered about the rancher to hear
+what the chief of the Moquis had visited him for. Evidently, from the
+rancher's manner, there were graver thoughts still in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"To explain to you what is to follow," he said, "I must say that things
+are now at a crisis as regards the leadership of the Moquis tribe. For
+the first time in many years Black Cloud's power is threatened. A
+younger chief, named Diamond Snake, has attained great supremacy in the
+tribe, and is using his influence to undermine the leadership of Black
+Cloud. Diamond Snake is not a full-blooded Indian, but he once worked
+for Clark Jennings on his father's ranch, before the family moved here."</p>
+
+<p>"Gosh-jigger them!" burst out Blinky devoutly.</p>
+
+<p>"Black Cloud, who is a pretty sensible Indian, refused to have anything
+to do with Jennings and his gang, and as late as last night, he tells
+me, warned them not to try to implicate his tribe in trouble. In spite
+of that, an attack is to be made <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>on our mavericks in the Far Pasture by
+Jennings and his crowd, disguised as Moquis, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It was Jennings and that bunch, for a bet, that stampeded the cattle!"
+cried Blinky.</p>
+
+<p>"I think so. They could easily rig themselves up as Moquis and deceive
+any one, particularly in the excitement. Black Cloud became suspicious
+after his interview with Jennings, and laid in hiding in the brush. What
+he heard confirmed his suspicion that Jennings meant to disguise himself
+and his helpers as Indians, when they raided the cattle, and so throw
+the blame on the tribe. Old Black Cloud readily saw that this would work
+him immeasurable harm, so rode right off to warn me."</p>
+
+<p>"But why should he do this?" asked Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"It's clear enough," rejoined the rancher. "He knows I'm pretty
+influential, and he also knows that there's a hot time coming for his
+tribe when they are finally rounded up. By coming to me and telling me
+of Jennings's plans, he figures that I, on my part, will go to the front
+for him and save his tribe from any severe penalty."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>"But will you?" asked Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"I promised him to," rejoined Mr. Harkness. "His visit may be the means
+of saving me thousands of dollars. But now I am in a serious
+predicament. Most of my punchers are off on the Bone Mound Range,
+rounding up mavericks. Jennings will have quite a force, and how are we
+to oppose him?"</p>
+
+<p>"We'll help you," spoke up Harry boldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Who?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, the Boy Scouts. Except Merritt and Tubby, we can all rope, and not
+one of us is scared of a little shooting, or anything like that."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't like the idea of taking you boys into danger."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess you'll have to take them," put in Blinky soberly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there's only myself and three other punchers, and we'll need at
+least a dozen to take care of the raid. Let the kids help. They'll do
+all right. I watched 'em carefully while we were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>trailing poor Rob, and
+they're made of the right stuff."</p>
+
+<p>So it was arranged that the boys were to take part in protecting the Far
+Pasture against Clark Jennings and his marauders. There was now little
+doubt in the minds of Mr. Harkness and the others that the stampede had
+been instigated by Clark and his friends, disguised as Moquis. In fact,
+we know from the conversation we overheard in the mountains that such
+was the case.</p>
+
+<p>"Where has Black Cloud gone, to join the snake dance?" asked Merritt,
+when this had been settled.</p>
+
+<p>"No; at least, he has gone there, but with the object of preventing it,
+if possible. In some way he has learned that Mayberry has sent for
+soldiers, and that he means to surprise the tribe at the height of their
+revelry. Black Cloud, for this reason, is determined to stop it if he
+can."</p>
+
+<p>"Can he, do you think?" asked Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. He told me that Diamond Snake, in order to make himself
+more popular <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>with the tribe, was a red-hot advocate of giving the dance
+with all its trimmings."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to see it," said Merritt suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"See them eating rattlers, eh?" put in Blinky.</p>
+
+<p>"Do they eat them?" asked Tubby, interested at once at the mention of
+his favorite topic.</p>
+
+<p>"Eat 'em alive," was the startling reply; "that is, except the ones they
+throw into a red-hot pit of coals."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever see a snake dance?" asked Merritt eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, but I heard my grandpop talk about 'em. He's one of the few white
+men that ever saw one and got out alive."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"That by Moqui law if a white man is caught looking on at their
+fal-de-lals and fandangos, he is tortured to death."</p>
+
+<p>"Hum! I guess I don't want to see one as badly as I thought I did,"
+muttered Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>At this instant there came a sharp ring at the telephone. Mr. Harkness
+hastened to the instrument and took up the receiver. His face paled,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>and then broke into a joyous smile as he heard the voice at the other
+end.</p>
+
+<p>"News of Rob!" he shouted, wheeling about.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly they pressed forward about him, eager to hear.</p>
+
+<p>"He's&mdash;&mdash;Hullo! Yes. What's that? Oh, yes. Boys, Rob was at Red Flat
+some time ago. He is now mounted and on his way here. I am talking to
+Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, who saved him from a terrible death."</p>
+
+<p>"How far is Red Flat from here?"</p>
+
+<p>"About twenty miles, and the boy has a good horse."</p>
+
+<p>"He ought to be here in a couple of hours, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"About that," rejoined Mr. Harkness, resuming his conversation with the
+Indian agent. Suddenly they heard his voice raised as if in
+expostulation.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't do any such thing, Mayberry!" the boys heard the rancher exclaim.
+"You are mad to attempt it!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know, duty is duty, but it's no man's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>duty to place his head in
+a trap. Why, man alive, it's courting death, you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He's rung off," he exclaimed, turning to the inquiring group behind
+him. "I don't know what I wouldn't give to be able to stop him in what
+he is about to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he in trouble?" asked Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"No, my boy, but he soon will be. He is going to '<i>reason</i>' with the
+Indians. Reason with them!" he burst out bitterly. "Reason with a rock,
+a rattlesnake, a coyote, or anything else senseless or cruel, but don't
+reason with an Indian."</p>
+
+<p>"If you're enjoyin' this here present life," put in Blinky sagely.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>Had Jeffries Mayberry and Rob Blake possessed the wonderfully sensitive
+intuition of the Indian agent's beautiful horse, they might have been
+able to feel, as they set out from the shanty in the clearing, that they
+were being followed and observed by more than one pair of cruel, beady
+eyes. Not being endowed with any such faculties, however, they followed
+the trail without any misgivings.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian agent, fortunately, had the good sense to accept the
+uneasiness of his steed as a sign of nearby danger. He had, for that
+reason, altered his previous determination to leave Rob behind in the
+hut till he returned with the soldiers from Fort Miles. And it was well
+that he did so, as we shall see.</p>
+
+<p>Hardly had the ring of Ranger's hoofs died out <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>than a dozen dusky forms
+slid from the brush into the clearing and looked cautiously about.
+Seeing no cause for alarm, they entered the shanty and stripped it of
+everything they considered valuable. The Moquis, for such they were,
+then returned to the spot where they had tethered their ponies, and took
+the trail after Mayberry and his young companion. It was the scent of
+the ponies that had aroused Ranger's uneasiness, although the Indians,
+with their customary caution, had, as has been said, tethered them some
+little distance from the shanty.</p>
+
+<p>All that night, as Mr. Mayberry and his young companion rode steadily
+forward toward Red Flat, the objective point at which the Indian agent
+had determined to aim, the redskins stealthily dogged their tracks.
+Never by so much as an incautious move, however, did they betray their
+presence. Red Flat had been chosen as their destination by Mr. Mayberry
+on account of the superior attractions in point of distance it offered
+to the other station of Sentinel Peak. It was out of his way, it is
+true, but he determined <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>to tax Ranger with the extra miles rather than
+expose Rob to peril, or keep him separated from his friends longer than
+needful.</p>
+
+<p>It was early dawn when they clattered into Red Flat, a small settlement
+with the essential store and post office. Its communication with the
+outside world consisted of the telephone and a stage which once a day
+trundled through. To the chagrin of the two travelers, however, the
+store in which the 'phone was located had been locked up during its
+owner's absence, and it was necessary to await his return before they
+could use the instrument. This opportunity, as we know, did not occur
+before the afternoon. In the meantime, Rob had hired a pony from the
+blacksmith of the place, and started off for the Harkness ranch.</p>
+
+<p>He had not been gone ten minutes when Ben Starkey, the storekeeper,
+drove into town. He had been off on a distant pasture, rounding up some
+sheep, which had kept him away till that time.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, Mr. Mayberry," he hailed, as he saw the Indian agent. "What
+brings you here? Come <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>to buy a plow, or a shotgun to manage those
+'babies' of yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"Neither," smiled the agent; "but if you will open up the store, Ben,
+I'd like to telephone."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. Want to use the talk box, eh?" chattered the storekeeper, as
+he unfastened sundry locks and bolts. "There you are. Now talk your head
+off."</p>
+
+<p>Presently, as we know, Mr. Mayberry was communicating the news of Rob's
+astonishing rescue to Mr. Harkness. He also told him something that he
+had not confided to Rob, and that was that he intended to hold the
+soldiers in reserve and go by himself to the valley in which the snake
+dance was to be held, and, as he expressed it, "reason with the Moquis."</p>
+
+<p>Now, there is little doubt that, had Black Cloud been in supreme control
+of the tribe at that time, Mr. Mayberry, with his knowledge of the red
+men, and the many little kindnesses he had done them, might have been
+able to "reason with them." But, as has been said, conditions in the
+tribe were not normal. The unscrupulous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>Diamond Snake, who was as
+ambitious as he was senseless, had determined on giving the snake dance,
+and equally determined that the logic of the little circle who still
+kept their heads and counseled saner measures should not prevail.
+Unfortunately, the wisest counsel is not invariably the most acceptable,
+and so it proved in the case of the rival chiefs. Black Cloud was even
+spoken of as "timid" by some of the young bucks. This, however, was
+behind his back, as none dared to fling such a taunt in the face of the
+veteran.</p>
+
+<p>In counsel, Black Cloud, supported by three or four of the elder
+Indians, had pleaded the many years of comfort Mr. Mayberry had provided
+for them. If they did nothing to thwart his wishes, he reasoned, the
+good times would continue. If they deliberately rebelled, however, no
+one knew what would happen.</p>
+
+<p>This sage advice had been jeered down by Diamond Snake's followers. The
+ancient lore of the tribe had been quoted, the spirits of their
+ancestors invoked, and Black Cloud denounced as a traitor to the
+traditions of the Moquis. A similar <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>situation has often prevailed in
+the counsels of the white men, who vaunt themselves so much the red
+man's superiors. It was simply the case of one leader bowing to the will
+of the populace, the other sternly stemming the tide, bidding defiance
+to the element which he knows stands for what is wrong and foolish.</p>
+
+<p>So it had come about that a band of young braves engaged in hunting had
+stumbled across Mr. Mayberry's hiding place, and, having discovered it,
+had decided that it was their duty to trail its occupant, whom they not
+unnaturally, perhaps, regarded as their enemy.</p>
+
+<p>No such thoughts were in Jeffries Mayberry's mind, however, as he rode
+slowly out of Red Flat in the early twilight. On the contrary, a smile
+played about his usually rather stern features, and his whole
+countenance was relaxed in an expression which, to any one viewing him,
+would have said as plain as print that Jeffries Mayberry was in a
+pleasant mood.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, the crisis that he had feared seemed to the Indian agent's mind
+to have passed the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>crucial point. The cavalry from Fort Miles would be
+at Sentinel Peak that evening. From there it was not a long ride to the
+valley in which the dance was to be held. By midnight, he felt certain,
+things would be in train for the peaceful return of the Moquis to their
+reservation. Jeffries Mayberry was, as our readers have doubtless
+decided by this time, a man to whom the idea of bloodshed or violence
+was abhorrent, but also a man who looked upon duty unflinchingly. He
+regarded the Moquis more as children to be looked after, and chided, and
+reasoned with, than as bloodthirsty and cruel savages, in whom a thin
+veneer of civilization only skinned the savagery festering below. Men
+had often told Jeffries Mayberry that his view of the Indian character
+was wrong, but he had always defended his views. They were shortly
+destined to be put to the severest test a man's theories ever were
+called upon to bear.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian agent had ridden easily down the trail some two miles or so
+in the direction of Sentinel Mountain, when Ranger suddenly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>swerved so
+violently from the trail as almost to unseat him.</p>
+
+<p>"Steady, boy, steady!" soothed the agent, patting the alarmed animal's
+neck. "What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>Ranger snorted violently and then, trembling in every limb, came to a
+dead stop.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Ranger, I&mdash;&mdash;" began Mr. Mayberry, when, with hideous yells,
+several dark forms rushed from the surrounding gloom. As their
+soul-chilling yell burst from those hideously painted faces, distorted
+with the vilest of passions, a terrific blow was dealt the Indian agent
+from behind, and he fell forward, almost beneath the trampling hoofs of
+the maddened Ranger.</p>
+
+<p>His assailants were the same Indians who had been trailing him all the
+previous night, and who had lain in wait for him outside the settlement.</p>
+
+<p>The taste of blood is said to transmute a hitherto peaceful sheep dog
+into a creature more dangerous to his flock than even a marauding wolf.
+In like manner, the Moquis' dash off the reservation had converted them
+into a ferocity of mind <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>which had speedily wiped off the varnish
+civilization had applied so painstakingly.</p>
+
+<p>While one of the Indians, seemingly the leader of the band, possessed
+himself of the agent's fine rifle, another hastened to seize the
+plunging Ranger's bridle. But the animal, beside himself with rage and
+fear, reared straight upright. Angered, the Indian dealt him a blow with
+a heavy rawhide quirt. With a squeal of rage, Ranger struck with his
+iron-shod forefeet at the redskin, and striking him on the head, toppled
+him over in the road beside his master.</p>
+
+<p>The fellow, however, was not badly hurt, and was soon on his feet again.
+Meanwhile, the other red men hoisted the agent's unconscious form over
+the back of one of their ponies.</p>
+
+<p>Jeffries Mayberry lay as if he were dead. Blood flowed from the wound
+that the weapon with which he had been struck had inflicted on the back
+of his head. Only the regular rising and falling of his deep, massive
+chest showed that he still lived.</p>
+
+<p>Glancing furtively about them, the Indians, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>including the one who had
+been felled by Ranger, remounted and prepared to proceed. The chief,
+however, on whose pony the still form of Jeffries Mayberry lay, found
+himself thus without a mount, and essayed to ride Ranger. Splendid rider
+as the fellow was, he met more than his match in the Indian agent's
+steed. Time and again he attempted to mount, only to be driven off by
+Ranger, who rushed at the member of the hated race, with bared teeth and
+ears wickedly set back.</p>
+
+<p>With a laugh that acknowledged his defeat, the Indian finally gave up
+the attempt, and mounted his pony, sitting far back on the animal's
+rump. In the glance he threw at the fiery Ranger there was an expression
+of admiration and respect. There are few horses that an Indian cannot
+master.</p>
+
+<p>Attempts to lead Ranger proved equally hopeless, but as he seemed to be
+inclined to follow his master's form, they allowed him to trail behind.
+And so the procession wound on, sometimes following a trail and
+sometimes striking off through <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>the trackless wild. Never once did the
+redskins falter, but kept on as unhesitatingly as if following a beaten
+track.</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally, as they journeyed on, poor Ranger gave vent to a pathetic
+whinny, but the master he loved so well lay still and motionless on the
+back of the Indian pony that bore him.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE MAVERICK RAID.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>"Hark!"</p>
+
+<p>Through the dark, low-lying mass that marked the feeding maverick herd,
+a sort of convulsive shudder suddenly ran. The movement, somewhat like
+the undulation of a long wave, had not been lost on the keen eyes of the
+Boy Scouts lying crouched under the night sky behind a chaparral-covered
+rise.</p>
+
+<p>It was Rob who voiced the warning. Since we last heard of him at Red
+Flat, the boy had arrived at the ranch, and been welcomed with&mdash;well,
+let each one of my readers imagine for himself how he would greet his
+chum if he had been separated from him under such trying circumstances,
+and if, for a time, he had even feared that his friend might be dead.
+Suffice it to say that it was fully half an hour before Rob could <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>be
+released from his chums and tell his story to Mr. Harkness, including
+confirmation of the Indian's story, that Clark Jennings and his evil
+companions meant to steal the mavericks while the rancher's attention
+was diverted by the hunt for the missing boy.</p>
+
+<p>A hasty supper had been dispatched soon after, and then the Boy Scouts,
+Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers had set out for the Far Pasture. They
+reached there at nightfall, and found everything apparently in orderly
+shape. Owing to the uncertainty from which quarter the cattle thieves
+were likely to make their attack, Mr. Harkness had decided to distribute
+his little force in two wings, so to speak. To the south of the feeding
+bunch of mavericks he had deployed his cow-punchers under his own
+leadership. The northern flank of the feeding band was placed under the
+guardianship of the Boy Scouts.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, boys," had been Mr. Harkness's parting words, as he rode off, "the
+signal that they have arrived will be two shots in quick succession.
+Remember, don't fire at the raiders unless you have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>to. Concentrate
+your efforts on saving the cattle. If Jennings and his outfit once
+succeed in getting them headed up toward the mountains, they are as good
+as lost. Jennings has some sort of secret pasture where he can keep them
+till he finds time to clap his brand on and dispose of them in the open
+market."</p>
+
+<p>"But in the meantime you can have him arrested," objected Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"That is true, but a bunch like that always has secret agents. If all
+the men whom I know to be implicated in the Jennings' escapades were in
+jail, there would still be men on the outside of the prison walls to
+carry on their nefarious work."</p>
+
+<p>For an hour or more no sound had come to disturb the great silence which
+brooded above the grazing grounds. The herd moved easily and steadily
+over their feeding places, displaying no symptoms of alarm as they
+cropped the half-dry grass.</p>
+
+<p>Rob had enjoined perfect silence among the Boy Scouts of the Ranger
+Patrol, and the boys, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>composed, lay like veterans to their arms behind
+their shelter.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a maverick that had been lying down on the outskirts of the
+herd lumbered heavily to its feet, and raising its head, sniffed the air
+for a moment. Then it emitted a shrill bellow. A thrill ran through the
+boys as the young steer gave its alarm.</p>
+
+<p>Simultaneously, almost, with the maverick's cry had come marked
+restlessness among its mates. They stopped feeding and moved uneasily to
+and fro. They huddled together as cattle do before one of the electric
+storms of the Southwest breaks over them.</p>
+
+<p>"They hear something coming," whispered Merritt, who lay next to Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Must be scared, to stop eating," put in Tubby, from his position
+alongside Harry Harkness, on Rob's other side.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" breathed the young leader. "Listen!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't hear anything," said Merritt.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>"Yes, you do. Listen again. Off there to the north."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean that sort of trampling sound?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought that was the cattle," put in Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I hear what Rob means," whispered Harry. "It's riders, and they're
+coming this way."</p>
+
+<p>The slight sound that had first attracted Rob's keen ears now grew in
+volume till it resolved itself into the rattle of ponies' hoofs
+approaching at a smart gallop.</p>
+
+<p>"Here they come!" exclaimed Rob, half unconsciously clasping his rifle.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they don't seem to be anxious to disguise their approach,"
+commented Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"No, why should they? They figure that only three or four punchers at
+most are guarding the herd. With the force they have with them they
+suppose, I guess, that they can scare the punchers off."</p>
+
+<p>"I reckon that's it," agreed Merritt.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>Closer and closer drew the galloping, and Merritt began to shift
+uneasily. The others, too, began to stir about, eager for the word to
+advance and mount their ponies, which were concealed behind a high
+rampart of chaparral a few paces off. At last Rob gave the word.</p>
+
+<p>"Crawl over to your ponies, boys. Don't show a head."</p>
+
+<p>Silently as so many snakes, the Boy Scouts retreated, and managed to
+gain their little mounts without making any suspicious sounds.</p>
+
+<p>"Ready for the signal yet, Rob?" asked Merritt, noticing that the young
+leader had slipped his revolver from its holster.</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet. Give them a little more rope. We want to see what their plans
+are before giving the alarm."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. But don't let them give us the slip."</p>
+
+<p>"Not likely. Remember, I've got a few scores to even up with Master
+Clark Jennings and Company myself."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>Suddenly out of the darkness before them came an ear-splitting "whoop."</p>
+
+<p>"Yip-yip-y-ee-e-e-e!"</p>
+
+<p>Bang! Bang!</p>
+
+<p>Rob's pistol cracked out the signal that the attack had begun at the
+same instant.</p>
+
+<p>But quick as he was, the boy had delayed a little too long. In his
+anxiety to make sure from which quarter the drive was to begin, he had
+allowed the raiders to get between his line of scouts and the cattle,
+thus permitting them a free and open path to the mountains. In a flash
+Rob realized this, as he swung on his pony's back.</p>
+
+<p>Silence was of little moment now, and the Boy Scouts uttered a loud
+cheer as they swept forward behind their leader.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! Bang!</p>
+
+<p>It was the answer to Rob's signal, from Mr. Harkness's party. But it
+sounded faint and far off. The rancher, in his anxiety to allow ample
+room to head off the cattle, in case they started for the Graveyard
+Cliffs, had stationed his men too far to the southward.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>Already the drive had begun, and the mavericks were trotting off before
+the onrush of a dozen or more dark figures garbed like Indians.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoop-whoop-whoop-ee-ee!" yelled the raiders, the better to keep up the
+illusion that they were Indians.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess they don't know that they are not throwing any dust in our
+eyes," muttered Rob, as he dug his spurs in deep, and his pony answered
+with every pound of speed in its active little body. By his side was
+Harry Harkness and all about them surged the other Boy Scouts.</p>
+
+<p>"Spread out! Spread out!" commanded Rob, as the charge swept forward.
+"Each Scout take a man and rope him if he can."</p>
+
+<p>With the exception of the Eastern boys, every lad in the Ranger Patrol
+was, as a matter of course, an efficient roper, and could handle a
+lariat as well as they could their ponies. Rob's command to use the
+rawhides, therefore, met with shouts and yells of approval.</p>
+
+<p>The consternation created in the ranks of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>Clark Jennings's raiders by
+the chorus of shouts and yells behind them may be imagined.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you told us there wouldn't be more than a few cow-punchers
+here," said Bill Bender angrily, as they pressed on behind the cattle,
+which were now loping fast toward the mountains.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I thought so. How was I to know they'd have an army out?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's what they've got. Hark at that!"</p>
+
+<p>A fresh yell from the Boy Scouts broke out behind the disguised raiders,
+and this time it sounded closer.</p>
+
+<p>"Speed up those cattle," shouted Clark Jennings desperately; "we've got
+to get to the mountains before they close on us."</p>
+
+<p>A volley of pistol shots was the answer, but the raiders fired above the
+cattle's backs. A fresh burst of speed followed from the frightened
+animals, which were now fairly stampeding. The shouts and yells and the
+constant cracking of pistols drove them into a frenzy of fear. On and on
+swept the mad advance.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>"If once they get to the hills, we may as well give them up!" shouted
+Harry, above the deafening hammer of the galloping Boy Scouts.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we'd better pump some lead into them!" yelled Bill Simmons.</p>
+
+<p>"On no account," shouted back Rob. "Use your ropes, but no shooting."</p>
+
+<p>Fast as the mavericks were urged on, they could not make the same speed
+over the rough ground that the ponies of their tormentors achieved. This
+fact naturally held back the line of disguised white raiders and
+permitted the Boy Scouts to close up on them. Before long they were so
+close that they could see the headdresses and blankets of the supposed
+Indians, waving above the dark line of racing steers.</p>
+
+<p>In the excitement of the chase, the boys had quite overlooked the fact
+that they were in close pursuit of some of the most desperate men in
+Arizona, and had carelessly come within pistol range.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a bright flash spurted from one of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>the raiders' revolvers, and
+a bullet whizzed past Rob's ear.</p>
+
+<p>"A miss is as good as a mile!" he yelled exultingly.</p>
+
+<p>The boy, to tell the truth, did not feel any fear of being "pinked" by a
+raider's bullet. Added to the darkness was the fact that the whole body
+was sweeping forward over rough ground at tremendous speed. A man, to
+aim true under such conditions, must have been a phenomenal marksman.</p>
+
+<p>"Aim low! Fire at their ponies!" he heard Clark Jennings yell suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" thought Rob. "Now you are talking. If a pony gets hit, it puts his
+rider out of the race."</p>
+
+<p>Hardly had the thought flashed through his mind before there came
+another spurt of fire from the raiders' line, and Rob felt his mount
+collapse under him.</p>
+
+<p>He leaped from the saddle just in time to avoid being crushed as the
+pony crashed down in a dying heap. The boy had been riding off to one
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>side of the Scouts when his pony was shot, and in the darkness not one
+of them seemed to have noticed that Rob was dismounted, for yelling and
+cheering, the chase swept on.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm out of it," thought Rob dismally. "I hope they get them,
+though. I'd like&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Up with your hands, and drop that rifle!"</p>
+
+<p>The command came out of the darkness behind him like a bolt out of the
+blue.</p>
+
+<p>Rob recognized that whoever had voiced the command meant business, and
+down fell his rifle with a crash, while his hands extended above his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I've got you where I want you," were the next words, coming in a
+vindictive voice from his captor. The next instant the speaker rode
+round the motionless Rob, and brought his pony to a halt directly in
+front of the boy.</p>
+
+<p>Despite the shrouding blanket and the waving feathers on the rider's
+head, Rob recognized his captor, with a thrill, as Clark Jennings. He
+was absolutely in the power of the vindictive ranch boy.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
+
+<h2>CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>"Lucky thing for me my pony went lame and I had to drop out," muttered
+Clark Jennings triumphantly. "I've got a few things I want to say to
+you, Rob Blake."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better say them quick, then," rejoined Rob. "I'm not overfond of
+your conversation."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't try to be fresh, young fellow!" warned Clark, raising his rifle
+menacingly. "I've got a corrective for back-talk in here."</p>
+
+<p>"But you daren't use it."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be too sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you want to do with me?"</p>
+
+<p>"All you have to do now is to obey, and obey pronto&mdash;see? Now march."</p>
+
+<p>"Which way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Toward the mountains."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well." Rob wheeled obediently, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>began to march off, but
+already he had conceived a daring plan, and unexpectedly an opportunity
+suddenly presented itself to carry it out. As Clark Jennings swung his
+pony, the animal spied, lying on the bare ground, a gleaming white
+skull&mdash;the relic of some dead and gone steer. With a snort, he gave a
+wild sidewise leap that almost unseated Clark, practiced rider though he
+was.</p>
+
+<p>Rob heard the snort and the jump and Clark's sharp exclamation. In a
+flash his mind was made up. He wheeled like a streak, and bending down,
+grabbed his rifle. In far less time than it takes to tell it, the muzzle
+of the weapon was covering Clark Jennings's breast.</p>
+
+<p>"Drop that rifle, Clark!"</p>
+
+<p>The tables were turned with a vengeance now. But Clark Jennings, to do
+him justice, was no coward. Disregarding Rob's command, he instead
+raised his own rifle and aimed point blank at the lad. A stinging
+sensation cut through Rob's right shoulder and his muscles involuntarily
+contracted. His rifle was an automatic, and the "safety" slide was open.
+As Clark's bullet <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>penetrated his shoulder, Rob's finger twitched on the
+light trigger.</p>
+
+<p>Bang!</p>
+
+<p>The bullet ploughed into the flank of Clark's pony. The animal gave a
+frightened, pained squeal and a terrific buck. Utterly unprepared as
+Clark was for such a contingency, he was shot through the air over the
+pony's head, and landed with a crash on the hard ground. His rifle flew
+out of his hand in the opposite direction, while his pony, which was
+only slightly wounded, galloped, riderless, off.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I hope you're satisfied now," growled Clark, raising himself on
+one elbow and gazing vindictively at Rob, who this time took no chances
+and kept his enemy covered. Clark, for all he knew, might have a
+revolver concealed about him.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not the one to be satisfied," rejoined Rob. "That is for Mr.
+Harkness to be. I should advise you to tell him the truth."</p>
+
+<p>At that instant the sound of trampling hoofs was heard off to the south.
+It was the belated <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>band of cow-punchers, headed by Mr. Harkness,
+sweeping at top speed in the direction of the retreating chase.</p>
+
+<p>"Co-ee-ee!" yelled Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is it?" came back the hail.</p>
+
+<p>"Rob Blake. I want to see you."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't stop us now, Rob," came back Mr. Harkness's voice, "unless it is
+something serious. We don't want to lose that rascal Jennings."</p>
+
+<p>"If you'll come this way, you can't miss him," called Rob cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Confound you, Rob Blake! I'll get even with you some day for this!"
+growled Clark, utterly dumfounded by the unexpected arrival of Mr.
+Harkness. A few seconds later the perhaps equally astonished rancher and
+his men loped up. A shrill cheer broke from the punchers as they saw the
+leader of the cattle raiders ingloriously squatted on the ground,
+nursing a sprained wrist and scowling like a cornered wildcat.</p>
+
+<p>"Well done, Rob," cried Mr. Harkness, as he saw the crestfallen raider.
+"Here, Blinky, just <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>take a few turns round this fellow with a rope.
+Joyce," to another of the punchers, "you stay here and guard him. We'll
+take no chance with so slippery a customer."</p>
+
+<p>The rancher drew out an electric flash torch and illumined the scene.
+Suddenly his eyes fell on a dark, wet patch on Rob's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, boy, you are wounded!" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, just a touch. The bullet tore the flesh. It isn't anything,"
+protested Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"What, he fired at you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Clark answered brutally, "and I'm sorry I didn't kill him!"</p>
+
+<p>An examination of Rob's injury showed that it was only a slight flesh
+wound, and after it had been wrapped up with a strip of his shirt to
+keep dirt out till proper remedies could be applied, he mounted Joyce's
+pony, and the cavalcade swept on once more, leaving the appointed
+cow-puncher behind to guard Clark Jennings.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo," exclaimed Mr. Harkness suddenly, as they rode on. "I believe
+something's happening up ahead."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>Indeed, it seemed so. Shouts and yells and imprecations filled the air.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a volley of shots sounded, and a sharp cry rang out.</p>
+
+<p>"Good gracious! They're shooting to kill!" cried Rob, dashing forward.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers were close on his heels.</p>
+
+<p>It was a strange scene into the midst of which they rode at top speed.
+Harry Harkness, Bill Simmons, Jeb Cotton and Frank Price each had their
+ponies "backed" on their lariats, and at the end of each taut, stretched
+rope lay a dark object, rolling about and muttering angry imprecations.</p>
+
+<p>Round the group rode the Boy Scouts, yelling at the top of their voices
+and cheering vociferously. And no wonder. At the end of the different
+lariats lay four cattle raiders, their clumsy disguises dragged half
+off, giving a grotesque appearance to them.</p>
+
+<p>The captives were examined one by one, and found to be Hank Handcraft,
+Bill Bender, Jess Randell and old man Jennings. None of them <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>would say
+a word except profanity, and so they were each tied and left, while the
+cow-punchers and victorious Boy Scouts set out to round up the crazed
+mavericks. The steers had now scattered in every direction, and getting
+them into a bunch was no slight job. Of the rest of the cattle raiders
+no trace could be found. It was learned afterward that they had galloped
+off when the Boy Scouts roped their leaders, and they made good their
+escape later across the border. The Boy Scouts, however, had not escaped
+lightly. Several of them had minor wounds, none serious, where the
+bullets of the cowardly raiders had struck them. It took a good hour or
+more to round up the cattle and quiet them, and then a sort of general
+inspection was made of the ranch forces. This resulted in a startling
+discovery. No Tubby Hopkins was to be found.</p>
+
+<p>"Who saw him last?" asked Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"I did," said Jeb Cotton. "He was riding off after a tall fake Indian."</p>
+
+<p>"Any one see him since?"</p>
+
+<p>No, nobody had.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>At this moment, while things looked grave, there came a sudden yell, off
+in the distance. A few minutes later Tubby's rotund form appeared. To
+the boys' amazement, the fat boy led behind him a mounted figure, bound
+up like a valuable parcel, with fold on fold of rawhide.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Tubby, wherever have you been?" demanded Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"On special duty," announced the fat boy importantly. "I have made a
+prisoner of war."</p>
+
+<p>"What! Why, how?" gasped Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is it?" shouted Merritt, edging round to get a look at the muffled
+prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Harkness turned his searchlight in the captive's face. In vain the
+fellow tried to bury his features in the folds of his blanket. His
+attempts at concealment were useless. A shout of amazement went up as
+Rob and Merritt recognized the face of Tubby's captive.</p>
+
+<p>It was Jack Curtiss!</p>
+
+<p>Arriving unexpectedly at the Jennings ranch that evening, he had been
+persuaded to take part in the raid. Knowing little about riding, the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>former bully of Hampton Academy had boastfully declared he would
+outride any of the raiders. He had been accommodated with a pony and had
+taken part in the onslaught which had had such an unexpected conclusion.
+Tubby, carried away by excitement, had chased the huddled figure, little
+knowing whom the blanket shrouded. Suddenly Jack Curtiss's pony
+stumbled, throwing the bully headlong. Tubby had immediately pressed his
+rifle to the fallen figure's head with the curt command:</p>
+
+<p>"Shut up!"</p>
+
+<p>As soon as his astonished eyes had recognized Jack Curtiss, he saw a
+fine chance to redeem himself as a hero in the eyes of the Boy Scouts.
+Tricing Jack up with his lariat, he had led him back in triumph to the
+rest.</p>
+
+<p>"Hooray, Tubby, I didn't think you had it in you!" cried Merritt,
+clapping the fat boy on the back.</p>
+
+<p>"Hum! I don't show all my good qualities at once," remarked Tubby,
+grandiloquently strutting about.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>"I wonder what you'd have done if it had been a real Indian?" laughed
+Harry Harkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Just the same&mdash;just the same," rejoined Tubby.</p>
+
+<p>A roar of laughter greeted the stout youth's complacent remark, but it
+was suddenly checked as a horseman came dashing up to the party.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, what's up now?" exclaimed Mr. Harkness amazedly, as the rider
+drew rein almost at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"It's an Indian!" exclaimed Merritt.</p>
+
+<p>"Another fake," declared Tubby sagely.</p>
+
+<p>But this time it was a real Indian, and he drew Mr. Harkness aside and
+spoke some rapid words. The rancher's face showed traces of great
+excitement, although his voice was calm enough as he turned to the
+interested group, after some moments of conversation with the red man.</p>
+
+<p>"Ray and Sumner, you join Joyce back there and take these prisoners to
+the ranch, and see that they are kept under strong guard," he ordered.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>"What! Aren't we going back?" inquired Rob.</p>
+
+<p>"No, my boy. I have grave news. The Moquis have rebelled against Black
+Cloud's authority, and Mr. Mayberry is a prisoner in their camp."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he in danger?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is in the gravest peril. Only prompt action can save his life. Such
+is the message Black Cloud gave this Indian to bring to me."</p>
+
+<p>A few moments later Rob, mounted on a pony previously ridden by old man
+Jennings, a tough, wiry little cayuse, was riding beside Mr. Harkness,
+listening eagerly to the details of his kind-hearted friend's
+predicament. Behind them spurred the Boy Scouts and the few cow-punchers
+remaining after a guard had been detailed. Minutes counted, as they well
+knew, and no rider in the party spared his pony as they pressed rapidly
+forward, under the Indian's guidance, for the valley of the snake
+dance.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
+
+<h2>WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>About a deep pit, filled to the brim with red-hot, glowing coals, swayed
+a long line of naked, copper-colored bodies. The glow of the flaming
+torches illuminated weirdly the surroundings. Steep, rocky walls, bare
+of timber or vegetation, and the flat, basin-like floor of the deep
+depression in the mountains formed the secret valley of the Moqui snake
+dancers.</p>
+
+<p>In lines behind the braves, who were swaying their lithe bodies so
+rhythmically above the red-hot pit, were grouped scores of stolid-faced
+Indians. By not the twitch of a single muscle did they display the
+frenzy that was already at work within them, but their beady, dark eyes
+glittered as they watched the weird gyrations of the swaying line above
+the fire.</p>
+
+<p>All at once a low chant arose from the line. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>Its regular rhythm and
+booming inflection marked it as being of religious character. Steadily
+it grew in volume, till half the Indians in that rock-bound basin in the
+hills were intoning it.</p>
+
+<p>As the line of chief chanters swayed back and forth, from time to time
+the firelight gleamed on a row of earthen vessels, quaintly illuminated,
+which stood behind them.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly one of the dancers turned, and while the shrieks of his fellows
+grew more and more frenzied, he plunged his hand into the mouth of one
+of the vessels. He drew his arm forth again, embellished by a hideous
+ornament&mdash;a writhing, struggling diamond-back rattler!</p>
+
+<p>The creature's flat head darted at the man's face, and its fangs seemed
+to bury themselves in his arm, but his bronze form danced more furiously
+than ever, and the singing grew louder and more frenzied. The Moqui had
+reached a pitch of exaltation in which the venom of the serpent was
+harmless to him.</p>
+
+<p>As the other Indians witnessed the sight their expression of stoicism
+changed as if by magic. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>The excitement of the dance was upon them.
+Suddenly a blood-curdling yell echoed against the rock-bound walls.</p>
+
+<p>A young brave, one of those who had been seated in the front row of the
+onlookers, sprang to his feet. He cast off his blanket with a shout,
+standing upright in the firelight, a nude figure of bronze. The play of
+his muscles showed plain as day in the glare of the glowing pit.
+Straight up to the earthen jars he gyrated, chanting the refrain of the
+weird ritual.</p>
+
+<p>Uttering a wild screech, he plunged his arm up to the elbow into its
+wriggling, deadly contents, and drew forth a vicious-looking sidewinder,
+or desert rattlesnake&mdash;a distinct species from the big diamond-back&mdash;and
+even more deadly.</p>
+
+<p>Without the slightest hesitation, he thrust the monster's spade-shaped
+head into his mouth, and with one clean bite severed it. He then spat it
+forth into the glowing pit, where it fell hissing.</p>
+
+<div class="img">
+<a href="images/imagep282.jpg">
+<img border="0" src="images/imagep282.jpg" width="48%" alt="the boy leaped to his feet" /></a><br />
+<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Uttering a wild screech, he drew forth a vicious-looking
+desert rattlesnake.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>This was the signal for yet wilder frenzies on the part of the Indians.
+One after another the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>young braves cast off their blankets and rushed
+forward to repeat the nauseous performance of the snake eater. The
+ground at the feet of the chanters of the ritual was littered with limp
+reptiles' bodies. An overpowering, musky stench arose on the air, the
+odor of scores of burnt envenomed heads.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of that maddened throng there was but one quiet, unmoved
+countenance, and that was that of a bearded man, who stood back some
+distance in the shadows. He eyed the ceremonies with a look that was
+half contempt and half pity. But he made no motion to interfere, nor did
+he, in fact, move at all. And for a very good reason. He was bound hand
+and foot to a post.</p>
+
+<p>His face was white as ashes under its deep bronze, but not from fear,
+for not a tremor crossed his features. Perhaps a deep wound on the back
+of his head accounted for it. But Jeffries Mayberry&mdash;for our readers
+must have already recognized the Indian agent&mdash;never knew less fear than
+he experienced as he stood at that moment, captive among a dangerous
+tribe, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>rendered doubly formidable as they were by copious doses of
+cheap liquor and religious frenzy. The Indian agent knew well that the
+rattlers which the young braves were beheading were far less harmful
+than the human beings, of whom he was, perhaps, the only self-possessed
+one in that rocky bowl.</p>
+
+<p>But if Jeffries Mayberry gazed on the ceremonies with contempt, mingled
+with pity, there was another in the valley who regarded them with almost
+similar feelings. That person was Black Cloud. The old chieftain had
+made as stiff a fight as he dared for Jeffries Mayberry's liberation,
+but had been hooted and jeered down. Diamond Snake was now in full
+control of the passions and adulation of the tribe, and Black Cloud, the
+only friend Jeffries Mayberry had within it, at that moment gazed
+powerlessly on the snake dance. One friendly turn, however, he had been
+able to do for his white friend, and that was to dispatch the messenger
+to the ranch of Mr. Harkness. But as Black Cloud, not daring to raise a
+voice of protest, gazed on the dance, his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>mind was busy with intense
+speculation. Even in the event of Mr. Harkness having been reached, it
+was doubtful if the rancher would arrive in time. The old Indian
+recognized the symptoms of an approaching climax in the ceremonies, and
+what that climax was to be he guessed only too well. No white man had
+ever seen the snake dance of the Moquis and lived to tell of it, if his
+presence were known. That Jeffries Mayberry was to share the fate of
+many another unfortunate victim in the tribe's past history, was what
+Black Cloud feared. That his fears were well grounded we shall presently
+see.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the frenzy died down with the same rapidity with which it had
+arisen. Above the rim of the rocky basin the silvery edge of the new
+moon had shown. The height of the excitement was at hand.</p>
+
+<p>Diamond Snake stepped forward from his place in the row of chanters and
+began to address the tribe in a high, not unmusical voice. As Jeffries
+Mayberry gazed at his almost faultless form, gleaming like polished
+bronze in the glare <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>of the fiery pit, he realized what an influence
+this fine-looking, fiery young Indian must sway among his people. His
+talk was listened to with deep attention, and seemed to be impassioned
+and fervid to the last degree.</p>
+
+<p>Although Diamond Snake spoke fast in his excitement, the Indian agent
+managed to pick out enough of the sense here and there to make out that,
+as he had suspected, he himself was the subject of the chief's address.</p>
+
+<p>Had he been in any doubt of this, his uncertainty would soon have been
+dissipated, for all at once every eye in that assemblage was turned on
+him with a baleful, malignant glare. If Jeffries Mayberry had ever felt
+one ray of hope, it died out of even his brave heart in that instant.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess Indians are all they say they are, after all," he thought
+to himself. "Just to think that, after all I've done for those rascals,
+they've no more gratitude for me than that! Go on, stare away!"</p>
+
+<p>Jeffries Mayberry fairly shouted these last words.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>"I wish, though," he continued to himself, while the young chief's voice
+went on addressing his people, "I wish, though, that they'd turned
+Ranger loose. I kind of hate to think of him ever being an Indian's
+horse, for of all maltreaters of horse flesh, they are the worst."</p>
+
+<p>He turned his head&mdash;the only portion of his body which was free to
+move&mdash;and gazed back into the shadows where he knew Ranger was tied. For
+hours after his capture the splendid horse had fretted and raged, but
+now he had grown quiet.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor old fellow, they've broken his spirit!" thought Jeffries Mayberry.
+Which goes to show&mdash;in the light of what was to come&mdash;that a man can get
+"pretty close," as the saying is, to a horse and yet not know him.</p>
+
+<p>Mayberry could not forbear winking back a little moisture that arose in
+his eyes as he saw the well-known form of his horse dimly outlined in
+the darkness behind him. Ranger's head was abjectly hanging down. His
+whole attitude spoke <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>dejection. As Jeffries Mayberry had said, the
+horse indeed seemed to be spirit-broken.</p>
+
+<p>All at once, while Mayberry's mind was busy with these thoughts, the
+young chief ceased his oratory, and the moment for action appeared at
+last to have arrived. With a concerted yell, the band of naked warriors
+who had chanted the solemn ritual of the snake dance rushed at the
+Indian agent. Even in that trying moment he did not flinch. He gazed at
+them unmoved, as they cast him loose from the post, and then instantly
+rebound his hands. His legs, however, they left free.</p>
+
+<p>Strange to say, the dominant feeling in Jeffries Mayberry's mind at that
+moment was one of curiosity. He wondered what they were going to do with
+him. For one instant a shudder passed through his frame. The fiery pit!
+Could they mean to thrust him into that?</p>
+
+<p>Such, however, was evidently not their intention, for they led him round
+to the farther side of the glowing coals, past the rows of seated
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>Indians and squaws, who growled and spat at him as he passed.</p>
+
+<p>"You ungrateful bunch of dogs!" shouted Mayberry, fairly stung into
+speech. "I hope after I'm gone you'll get what is coming to you!"</p>
+
+<p>If only the soldiers would come, he thought; but realized that without
+him to guide them it would take the troopers hours, perhaps days, to
+find the secret valley. No, there was no hope from that quarter. It
+should be explained here that, although Mr. Mayberry knew about the
+Indian messenger, he had little faith in the ultimate arrival of Mr.
+Harkness and the Boy Scouts. They <i>might</i> come, but it would be too
+late. However, any one would judge Jeffries Mayberry's character very
+much awry who should conclude that there was any bitterness in his soul.
+He accepted his fate as a brave man should, without complaint.</p>
+
+<p>"Now what are they going to do?" he thought, as the young braves, having
+led him past the hissing, spitting ranks of the squaws, arraigned him
+close to the edge of the pit, which now lay <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>between him and the crowd
+of cruel faces beyond. His eyes pierced the darkness keenly, but the
+glare thrown up at his feet prevented him seeing whether or not Ranger
+still occupied his same position.</p>
+
+<p>Jeffries Mayberry was not to be left long in doubt as to what his fate
+was to be. A shudder ran through even his strong soul as he saw what the
+inhuman ingenuity of the Moquis had contrived for his execution.</p>
+
+<p>His legs, which had remained free, were rapidly bound, and he was
+forcibly thrown upon his face. As he measured his length, the chanting
+began once more, and the hand of Diamond Snake himself dived into the
+biggest of the earthen snake jars. He withdrew it, clasping the largest
+rattler that Jeffries Mayberry had ever seen,&mdash;an immense creature of
+the diamond-back species, fully eight feet long.</p>
+
+<p>As Mayberry's eyes encountered the leaden glint of the deadly rattler's
+dull orbs, he felt that this was the beginning of the end.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
+
+<h2>BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>Amid wild yells from the assemblage on the farther side of the pit, the
+young brave who had attained temporary ascendency over the tribe cast
+the snake down on the ground before the recumbent form of the Indian
+agent. The reptile at first appeared dazed, and made no move, hostile or
+otherwise. Presently, however, as a deep hush fell over the Indians
+gazing on the scene, the creature began to sound his rattle.</p>
+
+<p>It was a dull, "horny" sound, like the rattling of dried peas in a
+bladder. The veins on Mayberry's forehead swelled as he made a desperate
+effort to burst his bonds, but the green hide held like iron, and he
+realized that all resistance was useless. Breathing a prayer, he
+resigned himself for what was to follow. Suddenly the serpent seemed to
+become endowed with furious rage. It <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>lashed its mottled tail, and then
+carefully gauging its distance from the captive, coiled itself for the
+death strike.</p>
+
+<p>Not a sound was to be heard above the deep, expectant hush, as the red
+glow fell on the strange, cruel scene: the agonized man, helpless, and
+the flat, triangular head of the deadly reptile, drawn back as if to
+give greater force to its death blow.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian agent, as he had abundantly shown, was no coward, nor was his
+a heart to be stirred by any ordinary ordeal. But the cruel suspense
+that now ensued broke down even his iron nerves. As he gazed like a
+fascinated bird into the leaden eyes of the menacing rattler, his
+courage faltered, and he uttered a despairing cry.</p>
+
+<p>It was answered by a cruel jeer from the frenzied Indians. In the tense
+excitement none of them had, however, noticed the first moves in an act
+that was destined presently to change the whole complexion of the scene.</p>
+
+<p>Old Black Cloud knew that the agent's heart was wrapped up in his horse.
+So far as any one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>knew, Mayberry had neither relative nor close friend
+in the world. In the Indian's eyes, then, the captive would surely wish
+his horse near him in the hour of his doom.</p>
+
+<p>For one as skilled in silent movement as the old chief, it was an easy
+matter to slip from his place in the shadows at the rear of the
+fascinated horde, and with a couple of deft strokes of his knife set
+Ranger at liberty. Then he silently stole back, and was seated in his
+former place in a less space of time than it took Ranger to realize that
+he was free.</p>
+
+<p>The captive's despairing cry reached the horse's ears, and he knew his
+master's voice.</p>
+
+<p>While the mocking laugh of the tribe was still echoing from the rocks,
+four iron-shod hoofs struck the earth in a mighty leap, and Ranger
+alighted heavily in the midst of the amazed throng. With yells and cries
+of terror, the Indians, who did not know what had occurred, were bowled
+over right and left. One young brave lay groaning with a pair of broken
+ribs. Another's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>arm was snapped where Ranger's hoofs had struck.</p>
+
+<p>Without pausing one instant, the animal, whose only anxiety was to reach
+Jeffries Mayberry's side, once more shook his head and, with a shrill
+whinny, sprang forward. This leap brought him over the heads of the red
+men, to the very brink of the fiery pit.</p>
+
+<p>Overcoming his natural dread of fire&mdash;a far greater terror to horses
+than almost any other&mdash;Ranger gathered his clean-cut limbs for a mighty
+leap. In one clean jump he cleared the glowing coals. Diamond Snake and
+his attendant masters of ceremonies had not, in the brief space of time
+allotted to them for comprehension, made out what was occurring on the
+opposite side of the pit.</p>
+
+<p>They had not the slightest warning, therefore, when, through the lurid
+glow, the form of Ranger, crimsoned by the reflection, came leaping like
+a thunderbolt.</p>
+
+<p>Over went Diamond Snake, toppling backward to avoid the terrible hoofs.
+With a yell of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>superstitious terror, the other "priests" gave way.
+Right and left they ran, shouting that the Great Spirit had sent an
+infernal messenger among them.</p>
+
+<p>But above all the shrieks, and confusion, and angry shouts rang out one
+terrible cry. It issued from the lips of Diamond Snake. The hind hoofs
+of the alighting horse had struck him, and, as has been said, he toppled
+backward.</p>
+
+<p>Too late he saw behind him the glowing pit of fiery coals. Nerving every
+muscle in his sinewy frame, the young Moqui warrior strove to avert his
+doom, but try as he would he could not check his impetus.</p>
+
+<p>He reached the edge of the pit, and with one dreadful cry pitched over
+backward. For a brief space the red glow grew blackened where he had
+fallen, but an instant later the intense heat had consumed him, and
+nothing remained to mark the end of the ambitious young Moqui.</p>
+
+<p>At the moment that Ranger had alighted, the rattlesnake, terrified by
+the near proximity of the trampling hoofs, released its body as if a
+steel <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>spring had been set free, and gave its death strike. But as the
+poison-laden fangs drove toward him, Jeffries Mayberry jerked his head
+to one side. The rattler had missed. Before it could gather itself for a
+second attack, it lay, a trampled mass, under Ranger's hoofs. The horse
+whinnied with pleasure as it gazed at its master. Then it stamped with
+impatience as it received no response. For the first and last time in
+his life, Jeffries Mayberry had fainted.</p>
+
+<p>With a howl of rage, like the angry voice of a storm, the Moquis,
+gathering up their weapons, rushed forward to avenge themselves for the
+tragic death of Diamond Snake. But they had not reached the edge of the
+fiery pit before a loud cry halted them. It was Black Cloud. The old
+Indian stood upright upon a bowlder, and pointed to the entrance of the
+rocky bowl.</p>
+
+<p>"Now will my brothers listen to the voice of reason?" he shouted above
+the tumult.</p>
+
+<p>A chorus of jeers and shouts greeted him. The mind of the tribe was a
+single one in that moment. The death of Jeffries Mayberry, in the same
+pit <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>as that into which his steed had cast the popular young Diamond
+Snake, was their raging desire.</p>
+
+<p>"Then look!" rang out the voice of Black Cloud, as he pointed to the
+rocky path at the westerly side of the bowl.</p>
+
+<p>As the eyes of the redskins followed the patriarch's pointing finger, a
+perfect howl went up once more. The moonlight illumined the figure of a
+solitary horseman.</p>
+
+<p>A score of rifles were instantly leveled at him, but as the weapons came
+to the marksmen's shoulders, the lone rider vanished as suddenly as he
+had appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Fools!" shouted Black Cloud, as the Moquis, with cries of rage, pressed
+on to Jeffries Mayberry's side, "that horseman is the forerunner of the
+white man's vengeance!"</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, a rifle cracked, and the noble old chief vanished from the
+rock. Apparently a bullet from the rifle of one of his own followers had
+felled him. But, as a matter of fact, Black Cloud, with native cunning,
+had perceived that in the mood his rebellious followers then were, his
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>safest plan was to keep out of sight. As the bullet hummed past his
+ear, therefore, he toppled from the rock as if dead. From behind the big
+bowlder he watched the events that were to follow.</p>
+
+<p>A young brave, anxious to earn the plaudits of his tribesmen by being
+the instrument of vengeance on Mayberry, rushed forward, and throwing
+himself on the unconscious man, seized him by the waist and was about to
+swing him into the flaming pit, when, with a shrill whinny of rage,
+Ranger's forefeet struck him down. He lay breathing heavily, an ugly
+wound gaping in his head. As if maddened by this, the great horse
+plunged, striking and kicking, into the crowd of hated Indians, bowling
+over and injuring several. But the temporary panic thus created lasted
+but a minute.</p>
+
+<p>A volley was fired at the noble figure of the raging horse, and he fell,
+still fighting, by his master's side.</p>
+
+<p>At the same instant a young redskin sprang forward with an uplifted
+"agency" axe. He raised it above his head, and was about to bury <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>it in
+the horse's skull, when something struck the axe and sent it whizzing
+out of his hand. Simultaneously a sharp crack sounded from the upper end
+of the rock bowl.</p>
+
+<p>Shouts of alarm sounded on all sides. The Moquis realized they were
+attacked, and that it was a bullet that had sent the axe spinning out of
+the murderous young brave's hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Hooray!"</p>
+
+<p>The cry rang out loudly above the Indian whoops and cries, as Rob Blake
+swept down the rocky trail, followed by the Boy Scouts, cheering as if
+their throats would split.</p>
+
+<p>Right and left the Moquis went down under their ponies' hoofs, too
+terrified by the very suddenness of the attack to offer any resistance.
+A few half-hearted shots were fired, and one or two sombreros were
+drilled, but, aside from that, no one was injured. The arrival of Mr.
+Harkness and his cow-punchers ended what little resistance there had
+been. It was soon over, and the Moquis herded in a sullen, defiant band
+at the lower end of the bowl.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>Rob and his friends hastened forward to Jeffries Mayberry's side, and
+cut his bonds; and the first thing that the rescued man gazed upon when
+he recovered consciousness was a circle of friendly faces.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Mayberry," burst out Mr. Harkness, "I told you so. I hate to say
+it, but I told you so. If it hadn't been for the Boy Scouts here, we'd
+never have saved you."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I guess not, Harkness," breathed the agent, "and this is not the
+place to tell you all how I feel. But, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>His voice faltered as he gazed at Ranger, who still lay on the ground.
+Blinky and some of the cow-punchers had been examining his injuries.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Ranger seriously hurt?"</p>
+
+<p>The agent's throat sounded dry. He could hardly bring himself to ask the
+question.</p>
+
+<p>"No, he'll be around in a while," announced Blinky; "only a tendon on
+the off front leg is sprained. He'll carry a few scars, though."</p>
+
+<p>And so it proved, for, though Ranger was soon as well as ever, he
+carried with him to his last <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>days the marks of that night. But his
+owner, as you may imagine, treasured every one of them, for each blemish
+spoke to him of his horse's affection and nobility.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, here come the soldiers!" exclaimed Tubby suddenly, with that
+fleshy youth's usual indifferent manner.</p>
+
+<p>A bugle call and a loud cheer announced the news at the same moment.</p>
+
+<p>"So they are!" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry, who by this time was standing
+upright, although he still had to lean weakly on the shoulder of Mr.
+Harkness.</p>
+
+<p>"A good thing you didn't wait for them," remarked Blinky; "they'd have
+come too late."</p>
+
+<p>"That was not their fault," put in Mr. Harkness. "The messenger I sent
+to Sentinel Peak could not have reached there more than an hour or two
+ago. They must have ridden like the wind."</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, as the bronzed troopers clattered, cheering, into the rocky
+basin, their steaming, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>dripping horses bore ample testimony to the pace
+they had kept up.</p>
+
+<p>"Confounded luck, arriving just too late for the music!" exclaimed the
+young officer at their head, after first greetings had been exchanged.
+"I see, though, that you have handled the situation well."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, thanks to the Boy Scouts," said Mr. Harkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that is an organization of which I have often heard," observed the
+soldier. "They are destined to do great work for our country in the
+future."</p>
+
+<p>"We hope so," said Rob simply.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Little more is left to be told of the Boy Scouts' adventures on the
+range. The rebellious Moquis, thoroughly cowed by their lesson, went
+peaceably back to the reservation, and accepted Black Cloud once more as
+their chief. Their break from the place set aside for them, though, was
+paid for by the stoppage of more than one privilege. In course of time
+Mr. Mayberry recovered some of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>his faith in the Indian character, but
+even he admits that his optimism has been severely shaken.</p>
+
+<p>Possibly, if you were to pay a visit to the tribe, you might be tempted
+to ask who a certain graceful young squaw is, whose buckskin garments
+are literally covered with wonderful bead work, and round whose slender
+neck hang so many chains of red, yellow, amber and blue globules that
+you might be inclined to think it would make her stoop-shouldered.</p>
+
+<p>If you asked her her name you would be told that she is Susyjan. She is
+regarded as the most attractive young squaw in the tribe, and her
+fortunate husband will have to give her old father many ponies and
+blankets before he can hope to win her hand. The source of Susyjan's
+beady splendor, however, has always, as you may imagine, remained a
+mystery to the tribe.</p>
+
+<p>Clark Jennings and his unworthy accomplices were tried in due course for
+their offenses against the law, and received various heavy sentences. In
+a Western community few more serious crimes, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>for obvious reasons, can
+be committed than cattle stealing.</p>
+
+<p>The days following the surrender of the renegade tribe were happy ones
+for the young Eastern scouts. In due course of time, the uniforms Rob
+had ordered for the Ranger Patrol arrived, and the organization is now
+one of the most flourishing in the B. S. of A.</p>
+
+<p>Hunting trips were organized and many excursions made into the
+mountains. The boys, too, shared in the excitement of a round-up, and
+proved themselves of use in many ways. Altogether, the Boy Scouts has
+become a name to conjure with in that part of Arizona.</p>
+
+<p>What became of Silver Tip?</p>
+
+<p>Well, the story of how Rob had Silver Tip at his mercy, and let the huge
+brute go, has become a ranch classic. This is no place to relate it at
+length, but one day on a mountain hunt the monarch of the hills and the
+boy who had once rushed wildly upon the monster's shaggy form, met face
+to face.</p>
+
+<p>Did Silver Tip recognize the lad? Who can <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>tell? Animals possess many
+faculties and instincts we do not credit them with. Be that as it may,
+it seemed to the imaginative Rob that the monster's eyes bore a craven
+look, as if he realized that judgment was come upon him. Rob stood alone
+upon a rocky ledge. Below him the great brute gazed upward, in the
+position he had frozen into on his first discovery of the young hunter.
+Rob raised his heavy rifle to his shoulder. The great creature was at
+his mercy. He paused an instant and then slowly lowered the weapon
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on, old Silver Tip!" he said. "Let some one else wipe out your
+wicked old life."</p>
+
+<p>Tubby was highly indignant when he heard of this.</p>
+
+<p>"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you ought to have thought of me, Rob. I've
+been hearing about bear steak ever since I've been out here, and now
+I've lost about the only chance I've ever had to stick my teeth into
+one."</p>
+
+<p>One day a letter came to the ranch house which caused several long faces
+to be drawn. It <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>announced the opening, within a week, of the Hampton
+Academy.</p>
+
+<p>And so&mdash;as all good things have to draw to a close&mdash;the happy, eventful
+days of the Boy Scouts on the Range ended. But had they realized it, the
+exciting scenes through which they had passed were only a milestone in
+their adventurous lives.</p>
+
+<p>We shall meet our young friends again, and follow them through many more
+stirring incidents and scenes in the next volume of this series. Some of
+these will be connected with the wonderful new science of &aelig;rial
+navigation.</p>
+
+<p>This new installment of their adventures will be called: <span class="smcap">The Boy
+Scouts and the Army Airship</span>.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<h2>THE END.</h2>
+
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
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+
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+<p class="cen">HURST &amp; CO., <i>Publishers</i>, 395, 397, 399 Broadway, New York.</p>
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+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>BOY SCOUT SERIES</h2>
+
+<p class="cen">BY<br />
+
+LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON<br />
+
+MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS<br />
+
+Cloth Bound &mdash; Price, 50&cent; per volume.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p class="cen"><b>The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol.</b></p>
+
+<p>A fascinating narrative of the doings of some bright boys who become
+part of the great Boy Scout movement. The first of a series dealing with
+this organization, which has caught on like wild fire among healthy boys
+of all ages and in all parts of the country.</p>
+
+<p>While in no sense a text-book, the volume deals, amid its exciting
+adventures, with the practical side of Scouting. To Rob Blake and his
+companions in the Eagle Patrol, surprising, and sometimes perilous
+things happen constantly. But the lads, who are, after all, typical of
+most young Americans of their type, are resourceful enough to overcome
+every one of their dangers and difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>How they discover the whereabouts of little Joe, the "kid" of the
+patrol, by means of smoke telegraphy and track his abductors to their
+disgrace; how they assist the passengers of a stranded steamer and foil
+a plot to harm and perhaps kill an aged sea-captain, one must read the
+book to learn. A swift-moving narrative of convincing interest and
+breathless incident.</p>
+
+<p class="cen">Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.<br />
+
+Hurst &amp; Co., &mdash; Publishers &mdash; New York</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>BOY SCOUT SERIES</h2>
+
+<p class="cen">BY<br />
+
+LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON<br />
+
+MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS<br />
+
+Cloth Bound, &mdash; Price 50&cent; per volume.<br />
+<br /></p>
+
+<p class="cen"><b>The Boy Scouts on the Range.</b></p>
+
+<p>Connected with the dwellings of the vanished race of cliff-dwellers was
+a mystery. Who so fit to solve it as a band of adventurous Boy Scouts?
+The solving of the secret and the routing of a bold band of cattle
+thieves involved Rob Blake and his chums, including "Tubby" Hopkins, in
+grave difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>There are few boys who have not read of the weird snake dance and other
+tribal rites of Moquis. In this volume, the habits of these fast
+vanishing Indians are explained in interesting detail. Few boys' books
+hold more thrilling chapters than those concerning Rob's captivity among
+the Moquis.</p>
+
+<p>Through the fascinating pages of the narrative also stalks, like a grim
+figure of impending tragedy, the shaggy form of Silver Tip, the giant
+grizzly. In modern juvenile writing, there is little to be found as
+gripping as the scene in which Rob and Silver Tip meet face to face. The
+boy is weaponless and,&mdash;but it would not be fair to divulge the
+termination of the battle. A book which all Boy Scouts should secure and
+place upon their shelves to be read and re-read.</p>
+
+<p class="cen">Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.<br />
+
+Hurst &amp; Co., &mdash; Publishers &mdash; New York</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2>Bungalow Boys Series</h2>
+<br />
+<p class="cen">BY<br />
+
+DEXTER J. FORRESTER<br />
+
+<span class="smcap">New Modern Stories of Outdoor Life.</span><br />
+
+Cloth Bound &mdash; Price, 50&cent; per volume.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p class="cen"><b>THE BUNGALOW BOYS.</b></p>
+
+<p>The first of a new up-to-date series concerning the absorbing doings of
+Tom and Jack Dacre and their chums of Audubon Academy. The lure of the
+big woods and the call of the rod and gun are delightfully set forth in
+these volumes.</p>
+
+<p>The first one deals with life in the wilder parts of Maine. Wild as the
+region into which the boys penetrate, accompanied by their professor,
+turns out to be, they find that there are bold, unscrupulous enemies
+even there. Nate Trulliber and his son Jeff prove to be formidable
+neighbors in more senses than one.</p>
+
+<p>For instance the lost lead vein which is one of the objects of the boys'
+quest is associated in a strange way with this Trulliber and his evil
+companions. The plots of these men are, however, frustrated in a clever
+manner by the boys; but not without their involving themselves in grave
+difficulties. Danger too threatens them, as notably when Tom is
+imprisoned in the mountain cave with every prospect of being speedily
+drowned if help does not soon come. The source from which aid finally
+proceeds is as mysterious as the character of the lonely hermit who for
+a time is mistaken by the boys for an enemy. Not until the end of the
+book do they learn how utterly they were mistaken, in his character.</p>
+
+<p class="cen">Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.<br />
+
+HURST &amp; CO., &mdash; Publishers &mdash; NEW YORK.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>Dreadnought Boys Series</h2>
+<br />
+<p class="cen">BY<br />
+
+Capt. WILBUR LAWTON.<br />
+
+<b>Modern Stories of the New Navy.</b><br />
+
+Cloth Bound &mdash; Price, 50&cent; per volume.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p class="cen"><b>The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice.</b></p>
+
+<p>How many times have you paused to gaze provided you live in a maritime
+town of course, at Uncle Sam's grim, gray sea-fighters swinging at their
+anchors, or steaming majestically by? Haven't you thought then that you
+would like to know something of the lives of the servers of their
+country who pass the best part of their adventurous lives within those
+steel walls?</p>
+
+<p>There are no books published which will tell you more of the new
+navy,&mdash;of the men, the ships, the huge guns, the submarine auxiliaries
+and all the hundred and one things that go to make up the fascination of
+the naval seaman's life, than these volumes.</p>
+
+<p>In the first volume of the series which bears the above title Ned Strong
+and Herc Taylor make their debut in Uncle Sam's navy. Of course they
+have to endure much rough joking. Ned, however, proves so handy with his
+fists in a notable set-to with the ship's bully that the boys soon set
+themselves on a footing. From that moment on adventures come thick and
+fast. At target practice Herc&mdash;by a mean trick of his enemy becomes a
+living target for a twelve inch gun. A flare-back in the forward turret
+of the Dreadnought on which they are serving gives the lads their
+longed-for opportunity to show the stuff they are made of. Real books
+for real boys.</p>
+
+<p class="cen">Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.<br />
+
+HURST &amp; CO., &mdash; Publishers &mdash; NEW YORK.</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>Motor Rangers Series</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p class="cen">By MARVIN WEST<br />
+
+OUTDOOR LIFE STORIES <span class="smcap">for</span> MODERN BOYS<br />
+
+Cloth Bound &mdash; Price, 50&cent; per volume.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p class="cen"><b>The Motor Rangers' Lost Mine.</b></p>
+
+<p>A new series dealing with an idea altogether original in juvenile
+fiction,&mdash;the adventures of a party of bright, enterprising youngsters
+in a splendid motor car. Their first trip takes them to the dim and
+mysterious land of Lower California.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally, as one would judge from the title, the lost mine, which
+proves to be Nat Trevor's rightful inheritance,&mdash;occupies much of the
+interest of the book. But the mine was in the possession of enemies so
+powerful and wealthy that it taxed the boys' resources to the uttermost
+to overcome them. How they did so makes absorbing reading.</p>
+
+<p>In this book also, the young motor rangers solve the mystery of the
+haunted Mexican cabin, and exterminate for all time a strange terror of
+the mountains which has almost devastated a part of the peninsula.</p>
+
+<p>The Motor Rangers too, have an exciting encounter with Mexican cowboys,
+which beginning comically, comes very near having a serious termination
+for all hands. Emphatically "third speed" books.</p>
+
+<p class="cen">Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.<br />
+Hurst &amp; Co., &mdash; Publishers &mdash; New York</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+
+
+<hr />
+<br />
+<h2>The Oakdale Series</h2>
+
+<p class="cen">By Morgan Scott<br />
+
+HIGH CLASS COPYRIGHTED STORIES FOR BOYS<br />
+
+Cloth Bound. &mdash; Illustrated. &mdash; Price, 60&cent; a Volume</p>
+<br />
+
+<p class="cen"><b>Ben Stone at Oakdale</b></p>
+
+<p class="cen">BY MORGAN SCOTT</p>
+
+<p class="cen">12<span class="smcap">mo.</span>, CLOTH. &mdash; ILLUSTRATED. &mdash; PRICE 60&cent;</p>
+
+<p>Never in the history of juvenile fiction have copyrighted books of this
+class been sold at a price so sensational, for beyond dispute the
+Oakdale Stories are of the highest grade, such as other publishers
+market to retail at $1.25 or $1.50 a volume. In no respect, save in
+price, can these be designated as cheap books; in manufacture, in
+literary finish, and in the clean, healthy, yet fascinating, nature of
+the stories they are destined to take rank with the works of the masters
+of fiction for the modern youth. The first volume is a narrative of
+school life and football, which, while in no way sensational will cast a
+spell almost hypnotic upon every young reader, from which he will find
+it impossible to escape until he has read through to the last word of
+the last chapter. The tale of the struggles of Ben Stone, a boy
+misunderstood, an outcast, a pariah, will excite the sympathy of all;
+and his final triumph over adversity, the scheming of an enemy, and the
+seemingly malign rebuffs of fate, will be hailed with joy.</p>
+
+<p class="cen">FOR SALE WHEREVER BOOKS ARE SOLD,<br /> OR SENT POSTPAID UPON RECEIPT OF 60&cent;
+BY<br />
+
+HURST &amp; COMPANY, 395 Broadway, NEW YORK</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2>The Oakdale Series</h2>
+
+<p class="cen">By Morgan Scott<br />
+
+High Class Copyrighted Stories for Boys<br />
+
+Cloth Bound &mdash; Illustrated &mdash; Price, 60 cents a Volume</p>
+<br />
+
+<p class="cen"><b>Boys of Oakdale Academy</b></p>
+
+<p class="cen">by Morgan Scott<br />
+
+12mo., cloth. Illustrated. Price, 60&cent;</p>
+
+<p>This is a brisk, vigorous, snappy, story in which winter
+sports&mdash;snowshoeing, skating, rabbit hunting, and such&mdash;are features. In
+the tale Rodney Grant, a young Texas cowboy, appears at Oakdale and
+attends the academy, being adjudged an imposter by the New England lads,
+who entertain a mistaken notion that all Texans swagger and bluster and
+talk in the vernacular. As Grant is quiet and gentlemanly in his bearing
+and will not, for some mysterious reason, take part in certain violent
+sports, they erroneously imagine him to be a coward; but eventually,
+through the demands of necessity and force of circumstances, the fellow
+from Texas is led to prove himself, which he does in a most effective
+manner, becoming, for the time being, at least, the hero of the village.
+This is a story of vigorous, healthy boys and their likes and dislikes;
+it is brimming over with human nature and, while true to real life, is
+as fascinating as the most imaginative yarn of adventure.</p>
+
+<p class="cen">For sale wherever books are sold,<br /> or sent postpaid upon receipt of 60&cent;
+by<br />
+
+Hurst &amp; Co., 395 Broadway, New York</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+
+<div class="tr">
+<p class="cen"><a name="TN" id="TN"></a>Transcriber's Note</p>
+<br />
+
+Some inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in
+the original document has been preserved.<br />
+<br />
+Typographical errors corrected in the text:<br />
+<br />
+Page&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   26&nbsp;  Samuri changed to Samurai<br />
+Page&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   89&nbsp;  struck changed to stuck<br />
+Page&nbsp;  113&nbsp;  Charlie changed to Charley<br />
+Page&nbsp;  151&nbsp;  croked changed to croaked<br />
+Page&nbsp;  206&nbsp;  Jenning's changed to Jennings's<br />
+Page&nbsp;  226&nbsp;  earthern changed to earthen<br />
+Page&nbsp;  243&nbsp;  fandangoes changed to fandangos<br />
+Page&nbsp;  297&nbsp;  safeest changed to safest<br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boy Scouts On The Range, by 
+Lieut. Howard Payson
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE ***
+
+***** This file should be named 35071-h.htm or 35071-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
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+Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts On The Range, by Lieut. Howard Payson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Boy Scouts On The Range
+
+Author: Lieut. Howard Payson
+
+Release Date: January 25, 2011 [EBook #35071]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Barbara Kosker and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ THE
+ BOY SCOUTS ON
+ THE RANGE
+
+
+
+
+ BY
+ LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON
+
+
+
+
+ NEW YORK
+ HURST & COMPANY
+ PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+ Copyright, 1911,
+ BY
+ HURST & COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ CHAPTER                                           PAGE
+
+      I. ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER                  5
+
+     II. NEWS OF THE MOQUIS                          23
+
+    III. THE DESERT WATER HOLE                       38
+
+     IV. SILVER TIP APPEARS                          54
+
+      V. AT THE HARKNESS RANCH                       65
+
+     VI. A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER"                75
+
+    VII. THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE             87
+
+   VIII. HEMMED IN BY THE HERD                      100
+
+     IX. THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE                112
+
+      X. THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING             125
+
+     XI. CAPTURED BY MOQUIS                         137
+
+    XII. TUBBY'S PERIL                              148
+
+   XIII. A FRIEND IN NEED                           161
+
+    XIV. A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER                     172
+
+     XV. WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT?                  185
+
+    XVI. BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO                   195
+
+   XVII. IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY             205
+
+  XVIII. THE INDIAN AGENT                           220
+
+    XIX. BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT                        233
+
+     XX. THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL                  246
+
+    XXI. THE MAVERICK RAID                          257
+
+   XXII. CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE             269
+
+  XXIII. THE WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE               280
+
+   XXIV. BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE                   291
+
+
+
+
+The Boy Scouts on the Range.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER.
+
+
+Northward from Truxton, Arizona, the desert stretches a red-hot, sandy
+arm, the elbow of which crooks about several arid ranges of baked hills
+clothed with a scanty growth of chaparral. Across this sun-bitten
+solitude of sand and sage brush extend two parallel steel lines--the
+branch of the Southern Pacific which at Truxton takes a bold plunge into
+the white solitudes of the dry country.
+
+Scattered few and far between on the monotonous level are desert towns,
+overtopped by lofty water tanks, perched on steel towers, in the place
+of trees, and sun-baked like everything else in the "great sandy."
+These isolated communities, the railroad serves. Twice a day, with the
+deliberate pace of the Gila Monster, a dusty train of three cars, drawn
+by a locomotive of obsolete pattern,--which has been not inaptly
+compared to a tailor's goose with a fire in it--makes its slow way.
+
+Rumbling through a gloomy, rock-walled cut traversing the barren range
+of the Sierra Tortilla, the railroad emerges--after much bumping through
+scorched foothills and rattling over straddle-legged trestles above dry
+arroyos--at Mesaville. Mesaville stands on the south bank of the San
+Pedro, a scanty branch of the Gila River. To the south of this little
+desert community, across the quivering stretches of glaring sand and
+mesquite, there hangs always a blue cloud--the Santa Catapina Range.
+
+The blazing noonday sun lay smitingly over Mesaville and the inhabitants
+of that town, when on a September day the dust-powdered train before
+referred to drew up groaningly at the depot, and from one of its forward
+cars there emerged three boys of a type strange to the primitive
+settlement.
+
+The eldest of the three, a boy of about seventeen, whom his two friends
+addressed as Rob, was Rob Blake, whom readers of the Boy Scouts of the
+Eagle Patrol--the first volume of this series--have met before. His
+companions were Corporal Merritt Crawford of the same patrol, and the
+rotund Tubby Hopkins, the son of widow Hopkins of Hampton, Long Island,
+from which village all three, in fact, came.
+
+"Well, here we are at Mesaville."
+
+Rob Blake gazed across the hot tracks at the row of raw buildings
+opposite as he spoke, and the town gazed back in frank curiosity at him.
+Opposite the depot was a small hotel, on the porch of which several
+figures had been seated with their chairs tilted back, and their feet on
+the rail, as the train rolled in.
+
+As it pulled out again, leaving the boys and an imposing pile of baggage
+exposed to the view of the Mesavillians, six pairs of feet were removed
+from the porch-rails as if by machinery, and their several owners bent
+forward in a frank stare at the newcomers.
+
+"Must think a circus has come to town," commented Tubby.
+
+"Well, they know where to look for the elephant," teased Merritt
+mischievously.
+
+"And for the laughing hyena, too, I guess," parried the fat youth, as
+the corporal went off into a paroxysm of suddenly checked laughter.
+
+The boys had bought sombreros at Truxton, and in their baggage was
+clothing of the kind which Harry Harkness--at whose invitation they had
+come to this part of the country--had advised them to buy. But as they
+still wore their light summer suits of Eastern cut and make, their
+generally "different" look from the members of the Mesaville Hotel
+Loungers' Association was quite sufficient to excite the attention of
+the latter.
+
+Readers of the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol will recall that in that
+book was related the formation of the patrol at Hampton Harbor, L. I.,
+and how it had been effected. How the boys of the patrol had many
+opportunities to show that they were true scouts was also told. Notably
+was this so in the incident of the stolen uniforms, in which the boys'
+enemies, Jack Curtiss, Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft, a disreputable
+old town character, were implicated.
+
+It will also be remembered that while encamped on an island near their
+home village, the Boy Scouts put off in a motor dory to the rescue of a
+stranded cattle ship on which Mr. Harkness, a cattle rancher, and his
+son Harry, a lad of the boys' own age, were returning from London,
+whither they had just taken a big consignment of stock. In return for
+their services, including the summoning of aid by wireless, Mr. Harkness
+invited the boys to spend some time on his cattle range. What
+adventurous boys would not have leaped at the invitation? But for a time
+it appeared as if it would be impossible for Rob and his chums to accept
+it, owing to the fact that the Hampton Academy, which they all attended,
+resumed its school term early in the fall.
+
+Just at this time, however, something happened which was very welcome
+to all three of the Scouts. Serious defects had been discovered in the
+foundation of the Academy, and it had been decided that it would be
+unsafe for the scholars to reassemble till these had been remedied. It
+was estimated that the work would take two months or more. Thus it had
+come about that the invitation of Mr. Harkness was accepted. To the
+boys' regret, however, only the members of the Patrol who stood that day
+on the platform at Mesaville had been able to obtain the consent of
+their parents to take the long, and to Eastern eyes, hazardous, trip.
+
+Arrangements had been made by letter for Harry Harkness, the rancher's
+son, to meet the boys at Mesaville, but the train had rolled in and
+rolled out again without his putting in an appearance.
+
+"Maybe Harry fell in that river and was drowned," suggested Tubby,
+pointing ahead down the tracks to the trestle crossing the San Pedro
+River. At this time of the year the so-called river was a mere trickle
+of mud-colored water, threading its way between high, sandy banks. The
+boys burst into a laugh at the idea of any one's drowning in it.
+
+"He'll be here before long," said Rob confidently. "It's a drive of more
+than fifty miles to the ranch, remember, and we can't start out till
+to-morrow morning, anyhow."
+
+Just then a white-aproned Chinaman appeared on the porch of the hotel
+and vigorously rang a bell. At the signal the lounging cow-punchers and
+plainsmen rose languidly from their chairs and bolted into the
+dining-room. From the few stores also appeared the merchants of
+Mesaville, most of whom lived at the hotel.
+
+"Sounds like dinner," remarked Tubby hopefully, sniffing the air on
+which an odor of food was wafted across the tracks. "Smells like it,
+too."
+
+"Trust Tubby to detect grub," laughed Rob.
+
+"He's a culinary Sherlock Holmes," declared Merritt, but his remark was
+made to Rob alone, for Tubby was beyond the reach of his sarcasm. He
+had started at once to cross the tracks and find the dining-room.
+
+"I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea to have something to eat while we're
+waiting," said Rob. "Let's go over."
+
+Tubby was already installed in a seat at the long table when his chums
+entered. He had in front of him a plate of soup, on the top of which
+floated a sort of upper crust of grease. From time to time an
+investigating fly ventured too near the edge and was miserably drowned.
+It was Tubby's initiation into desert hotel life, and he didn't look as
+if he was enjoying it.
+
+On both sides of the table, however, the cow-punchers, teamsters, and
+Mesaville commercial lights, were shoveling away their food without the
+flicker of an eyelash. Opposite to Tubby were seated two young fellows
+in cowboy garb, who seemed to extract much noisy amusement from watching
+the stout youth eat. They didn't seem to care if he overheard their
+somewhat personal remarks.
+
+"Ah, there's a lad who'll be a help to his folks when he grows up,"
+grinned one of the stout boy's tormentors, as Rob and Merritt took their
+seats.
+
+"Which will be before you do," placidly murmured Tubby, continuing to
+eat his soup.
+
+A shout of laughter went up at this, and it wasn't at Tubby's expense,
+either.
+
+The two youths who had been so anxious to display their wit reddened,
+and one of them angrily said something about "the fresh tenderfoot."
+
+"Here's two more of 'em," tittered the other, as Merritt and Rob came
+in. Rob wore on his breast, but pinned on his waistcoat and out of
+sight, the Red Honor for lifesaving, which had been presented to him for
+heroism at the time of the waterlogging of the hydroplane, as narrated
+in the Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol. Merritt also wore the decoration
+in the same inconspicuous place.
+
+As the leader of the Eagle Patrol sat down, however, his coat caught
+against Tubby's shoulder and was thrown back, exposing the decoration.
+
+"Oh! ho! Look at the tenderfoot's medal," chuckled one of the young
+cattlemen; "wonder what it's for?"
+
+"The championship of the bread and milk eaters of New York State, I
+reckon," grinned the other, and another shout of laughter bore witness
+to the table's approval of this primitive humor.
+
+Rob flushed angrily, but said nothing. He did not wish to stir up
+trouble with two such ill-mannered young boors as the cattle-punchers
+were showing themselves to be. Encouraged by his silence, the badgering
+went on. One by one the other guests had been served by the Chinese
+attendant, with raisin pie and half-melted cheese, and had arisen and
+left the room. The two young cow-punchers and the Boy Scouts were
+shortly left alone in the fly-infested apartment. Rob and Merritt, who
+found the surroundings little to their liking, hurried through their
+meal, but Tubby ate conscientiously through everything that was brought
+him.
+
+It now grew plain, even if it had not been so before, that the two
+sun-burned young plainsmen sitting opposite the boys were deliberately
+trying to aggravate them.
+
+Interpreting the boys' silence as fear, they grew bolder and bolder in
+their remarks.
+
+"Have to catch up a real cow, I reckon," dreamily went on one of the
+boys' tormentors, gazing at the ceiling abstractedly, but fingering the
+condensed milk can.
+
+"What for?" inquired the other, playing into his hand.
+
+"Why, the tin cow might disagree with mama's boys."
+
+"Ho-ho-ho! Say, Clark."
+
+"What, Jess?"
+
+"Reckon they must be overstocked with yearlings East."
+
+"Looks that way. Do you suppose Easterners are born or jest grow?"
+
+The youth addressed by his companion as Jess looked straight at Rob as
+he spoke, and the insult was unmistakable. Rob's self-control suddenly
+deserted him with a rush.
+
+"I'll answer for your friend," he snapped out. "They
+grow-and-they-grow-right."
+
+Tubby looked up in surprise from his raisin pie, and Merritt's eyes
+opened wide at Rob's tone. It foreboded trouble as sure as a hurricane
+signal foretells a storm.
+
+"My! my!" grinned Jess, but it was an uncomfortable sort of a grin,
+"hear the little boy with the medal talk. Come on, Clark, let's go see
+to the ponies while the tenderfeet wait for their nurse to come and take
+their bibs off."
+
+They rose from the table, but Rob, still inwardly raging but outwardly
+cool as ice, stopped them.
+
+"Say," he said, "are you fellows cattlemen?"
+
+"You bet, stranger, from the ground up," rejoined Clark, with a vast air
+of self-importance.
+
+"Well, then we've been misinformed in the East," said Rob, coolly
+brushing a few stray crumbs from his knees.
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"Why, we'd been told that cattlemen were natural gentlemen; but whoever
+told us that was dead wrong. Judging by you fellows, they're not
+natural, and certainly not the other thing."
+
+Clark's face grew crimson and he muttered something about "fixing the
+fresh kid," but his companion drew him away.
+
+"We'll have plenty of time to rope and brand these young mavericks," he
+said, as they left the room.
+
+As they vanished Rob burst into a shout of laughter.
+
+"Score one for the Boy Scouts," he said. "If ever there were two
+discomfited cow-punchers, those fellows are it."
+
+The landlord, who had entered the room a few moments before, came
+forward as the boys arose from the table. He was a tall, lanky man, with
+a look of perpetual gloom on his face. A drooping, straw-colored
+mustache did not help to enliven his funereal features.
+
+"Say, strangers," he said, in a dismal voice, "you've started in bad."
+
+"How's that?" inquired Rob, in a somewhat peppery tone.
+
+"Why, riling up Clark Jennings and Jess Randell; they's two of the
+toughest boys in the country."
+
+"Think so, I guess," snorted Tubby.
+
+"Well, wait and see," said the landlord, with a melancholy shrug of his
+sloping shoulders. "Three dinners, please."
+
+He extended a yellow palm.
+
+"How much?" asked Rob, putting his hand in his pocket.
+
+"Three dollars and six bits."
+
+"What! three dollars and seventy-five cents for that fly-ridden stuff?"
+
+"That's the charge, stranger."
+
+Rob, seeing there was no use arguing, paid over the money, in exchange
+for which they had received three greasy plates of soup, three portions
+of ragged, overdone bull beef, and three slabs of raisin pie, together
+with three cups of muddy, inky coffee. But a sudden impulse of
+curiosity gripped him.
+
+"Say, what's the twenty-five cents extra all round for?" he asked.
+
+"Fer your ponies," rejoined the landlord, more miserably than ever. He
+seemed to be on the point of bursting into tears.
+
+"Ponies!" gasped Rob. "We haven't got any."
+
+"Never mind, it's a rule of the house," said the landlord, as if that
+settled the matter; "and if you ain't got any ponies it ain't my fault,
+is it?"
+
+There was no answering this sort of logic, and the boys strolled out to
+the porch to see if they could sight any trace of Harry Harkness. There
+was no sign of him, however, and after a prolonged period of gazing
+across the blazing desert, the boys sank back in three of the big
+rockers that stood in a row on the porch. It was dull, sitting there in
+the intense heat and drowsy silence, broken only at long intervals by
+the clatter of a pony's hoofs as some cow-puncher ambled by at an easy
+lope. A loud snore from Tubby soon proclaimed that he was off, and
+Merritt and Rob were about to follow him into the land of dreams, when
+there came a sudden interruption.
+
+Rob felt his shoulder roughly seized from behind, and a harsh, mandatory
+voice addressed him:
+
+"Say, that's my chair you're sitting in. You'll have to get out."
+
+The boy turned and saw Clark Jennings glaring at him. Close beside him,
+with a grin on his face, was Jess Randell.
+
+"Even supposing it is your chair," said Rob, "you can ask me for it like
+a gentleman,--then," he added to himself, "I'll think over giving it to
+you."
+
+"Oh, I guess you think you're a mighty fine gentleman?"
+
+"I hope I am one, yes."
+
+"Well, out here gentlemen have to fight for their title. Are you going
+to give me that chair?"
+
+"As you are no more a guest of this hotel than I am, I shall sit here
+till I get ready to get up."
+
+"Then I'll have to help you out----Ouch!"
+
+The remark and the exclamation came close together. Clark Jennings had
+bent forward as he spoke, and roughly laid hold of Rob to pull him from
+the chair by main force. As he did so, however, Rob had suddenly changed
+from a passive, rather sleepy boy, to a bundle of steel springs full of
+fight. Clark Jennings, as he laid hold of Rob, had felt himself hurled
+backward. Unable to check his impetus, he had landed against the wall of
+the hotel with a force which caused him to give vent to the exclamation
+recorded.
+
+"Look out, tenderfoot, he'll kill yer," warned the melancholy landlord
+from the window of the office, where he had been entering in a greasy
+book the extortion practiced on the boys.
+
+Several cow-punchers awoke to interest at the same time as Tubby and
+Merritt began to realize what was happening.
+
+His eyes blazing with fury, Clark Jennings crouched low, and then
+reaching back drew a revolver from his hip. He aimed it full at Rob,
+but simultaneously a strange thing happened. Rob was seen to dart
+forward, diving right under the leveled pistol. The next instant the
+weapon was spinning through the air. It landed with a thump in the
+middle of the dusty road. But Clark Jennings didn't see it, for the
+excellent reason that at that precise moment he was lying flat on his
+back on the hotel veranda. Before his eyes swam a whole galaxy of
+constellations. Over him stood Rob, with flushed face and clinched
+fists.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+NEWS OF THE MOQUIS.
+
+
+"Wow!" yelled the onlookers, as Clark's body struck the floor with a
+resounding thwack.
+
+Jess was in an agony of excitement over the sudden downfall of his
+friend. He was just about to hurl himself upon Rob when a sudden
+detaining arm fell on his with a heavy pressure.
+
+"Hold on there. We want fair play."
+
+It was Merritt Crawford who spoke, and Jess sullenly dropped his
+belligerent look. Somehow, the happenings of the last few seconds had
+altered the aspect of the tenderfeet materially in the eyes of the two
+young cow-punchers.
+
+"I'll fix you," growled Clark furiously, scrambling to his feet.
+
+"Why did you let him get up?" asked Tubby, his round cheeks glowing with
+excitement.
+
+"Because I want to give him plenty of rope," said Rob, a grim look
+creeping over his usually pleasant face.
+
+A sudden furious onrush on the part of Clark prohibited further
+conversation.
+
+"Go in and eat him up, Clark!" shouted a lanky, long-legged cow-puncher,
+one of several who had been attracted by the rumpus.
+
+"Looks as if your friend had developed a sudden attack of indigestion,"
+grinned Tubby delightedly, as Rob's fist collided with the advancing
+Clark's jaw, much to the latter's astonishment.
+
+"Never seed nothing like it," commented the landlord, somewhat less
+melancholy now. "Clark's the champeen round here."
+
+"He may be when he's got a gun to back him up, but not when he has to
+fall back on his fists," retorted Merritt.
+
+"Look out!" he yelled suddenly, as the young cow-puncher, finding that
+fair methods seemed to have failed, attempted a foul blow below Rob's
+belt.
+
+But there was no need of the warning. Rob had seen the blow coming
+halfway, swiftly delivered as it was. The cowardly attempt at foul
+tactics thoroughly enraged him.
+
+"I thought Westerners fought fair," he gritted out, gripping the
+astonished cow-puncher by the wrist of the offending hand. Before Clark
+could gasp his astonishment, his other wrist was captive.
+
+Then a strange thing happened. Before any one had time to realize just
+how it occurred, Clark's body was describing a sweeping arc in the air.
+His heels rushed through the atmosphere fully five feet from the floor.
+Like the lash of a whip, his powerless body was straightened out as he
+reached the limit of the aerial curve he had described. At the same
+instant a dismayed yell broke from his pallid lips as Rob let go.
+
+Over the veranda rail, and out into the dusty road the young cow-puncher
+followed his revolver. He landed in a heap in the white dust, while Rob
+yelled triumphantly:
+
+"Now pick up your gun and profit by the lesson in manners I've given
+you."
+
+So saying, the boy calmly seated himself once more in the disputed
+chair, only a slight, quick movement of his chest betraying the great
+physical effort he had been through. After all, surprising as it had
+seemed, there was nothing very amazing about Rob's achievement. At the
+Hampton Academy athletics had always been a boast. The trick Rob had
+just put into execution he had learned from his physical instructor,
+who in his turn had picked it up from a Samurai wrestler of Japan. But
+to the cowboys, and other loungers about the Mesaville Hotel, the feat
+had been little short of marvelous.
+
+They eagerly thronged about the boy as he took his seat once more, and
+this time he remained in undisputed possession of it.
+
+"Whip-sawed, that's what Clark was," exclaimed one of the group.
+
+Another, the same tall, lanky fellow who had just been urging the young
+cow-puncher on to what he thought would be an easy victory, approached
+Rob.
+
+"Say, stranger," he asked eagerly, "will you teach me that thar
+contraption?"
+
+"Couldn't do it," rejoined Rob soberly, although a smile played about
+the corners of his lips.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because, then, you'd know as much as I do," responded Rob. The
+assemblage burst into a loud roar of laughter, in which you may be sure,
+however, there were two voices which did not join. Those two were Clark
+Jennings' and Jess Randell's. The former had just picked himself up and
+stuffed his gun in his pistol pocket. A malevolent scowl marked his face
+as he did so. Nor did Jess smooth over matters by remarking audibly:
+
+"Say, Clark, what was the matter with you?"
+
+"Chilled feet, I guess," chortled Tubby, who had overheard the remark.
+
+"Get away from me, can't you?" snarled Clark irritably, facing round on
+his well-meaning crony, "why didn't you help me out?"
+
+"Help you out--how?"
+
+"Why, trip that tenderfoot up when I rushed him."
+
+"Oh, shucks, I thought you fought fair," said Jess, a little disgusted
+in spite of himself.
+
+"So I do," snorted Clark, "when I'm winning."
+
+"Well, come on round and see to the ponies. We'll think up some way to
+get even with these grain-fed mavericks before very long," comforted
+Jess.
+
+"You bet, and in a way they won't forget, either," Clark Jennings
+promised himself, as he followed his companion to the corral.
+
+Not long after this, the boys perceived, far out on the sultry plain, a
+sudden swirl of dust.
+
+"Something coming," shouted Tubby, who, strange to say, had been the
+first to notice the approaching column of dust.
+
+"Team," briefly grunted the landlord, "did I hear you fellers say you
+was waiting for some one from the Harkness range?"
+
+"Yes, you did," said Rob.
+
+"Waal, I guess that's them now. Must have a bear-cat of a team in to
+kick up all that smother."
+
+Closer and closer grew the dust cloud, and presently, from its yellow
+swirls, emerged the heads of the leaders of an eight-mule team. Behind
+them lumbered a big, broad-tired wagon, from the bed of which a high
+seat was reared like a watch tower. By the driver's side was a long iron
+foot brake. As the team approached the bank of the sandy little dried-up
+river, where the road took a dip, the driver placed his foot on the
+brake and a loud screeching and groaning resulted, as the big wagon,
+with the hind wheels locked, slid down the far bank. As the front wheels
+thundered across the rough bridge above the thin thread of luke-warm
+water, the heads of the first mules emerged over the top of the bank
+nearest the hotel.
+
+"Mountain style," commented the long, lanky cow-puncher admiringly, as
+the driver, a tall, sun-burned lad of about Rob's age, whirled a long
+whip three or four times round his head and concluded the flourish with
+a loud "crack" as sharp and penetrating as a pistol shot.
+
+An instant later the heavy wagon and its eight, dust-choked, sweating
+mules swept up in front of the hotel porch. The driver, flinging the
+single line with which he drove to his companion, clambered from his
+lofty perch and was immediately surrounded by the three tenderfeet.
+
+"Well, you certainly come into town with a flourish of trumpets,"
+laughed Rob, after the first salutations between the Eastern boys and
+Harry Harkness, the rancher's son, had been exchanged.
+
+"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long," responded the other, who in
+order to speak had pulled down a big red handkerchief which had bundled
+up the lower part of his face and kept it dust-proof while he drove;
+"but the fact is, we had some trouble on the way. A bunch of Moquis are
+out, and----"
+
+"Indians!" gasped Tubby, with round eyes.
+
+"Yes, regular Indians," laughed Harry; "the Moquis' reservation is off
+a hundred miles or more to the northwest, near Fort Miles, but----"
+
+"They're off the reservation," cut in Tubby, proud of his knowledge.
+
+"Out fer a snake dance, I reckon," put in the long, lanky cow-puncher,
+who had been an interested listener.
+
+"Why, hello, Lone Star," exclaimed Harry. "I didn't know you were in
+town. Yes," he went on, "there's a secret valley in the Santa Catapinas
+which has been used by them for centuries for their festivals, and
+although they are supposed to be kept within the limits of the
+reservation, every once in a while a bunch of them get over here and
+hold a snake dance."
+
+"I've read about them," said Rob; "they do all kinds of weird things
+with rattlesnakes, don't they?"
+
+"Well, no white man has ever seen them--or, if he has, never lived to
+tell about it," said Harry, "so of course nobody knows exactly what they
+do. But anyhow, when we camped last night we had eight mules, and when
+we woke this morning there were only six. Jose, there--hey, Jose, wake
+up!" He prodded the Mexican who still sat on the wagon seat, with the
+end of his long whip. "Well, as I was saying, Jose trailed them and
+found them tethered in a arroyo about a mile from camp."
+
+"The Indians took them?" asked Merritt.
+
+"Yes, Jose, who's as good a trailer as he is a sleeper, found
+unmistakable tracks of Moquis. I suppose they took the mules in the
+night and then got scared at something and hitched them in the arroyo,
+meaning to come back for them."
+
+"Whereabouts did the Injuns cut into you, Harry?"
+
+A new voice had broken into the conversation. That of Clark Jennings. He
+nursed above his right eye a rapidly swelling "goose egg," marking the
+spot at which he had collided with the roadway. At his elbow was the
+faithful Jess Randell.
+
+"Why, hello, Clark, you in town, too? Every one from the Santa Catapinas
+seems to be in to-day--you, too, Jess. Well, the Indians paid us their
+little call just this side of the Salt Licks,--why?"
+
+"Oh, jes' wanted to know. Me and Jess has got to ride home that way
+to-night, for it's better riding when it's cool; and I thought I'd like
+to know whar to expect the varmints."
+
+"Well, that's the best information I can give you," said Harry, "but
+what have you been doing to your eye?"
+
+"Oh, nothing," muttered Clark, turning away, while a loud guffaw went
+up.
+
+"What's all the joke,--what is it?" asked Harry. It was soon explained,
+and the young rancher burst into a laugh.
+
+"Say, Rob, you must mean to clean the country of bad men. Trimmed Clark
+Jennings! Ho, ho, ho!"
+
+"Has he much of a reputation?" inquired Rob innocently, but with a
+twinkle in his eye.
+
+"I should say so. He won't forgive you in a hurry. He's going to be your
+neighbor, too, for a while."
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"His father owns the next ranch to us. Jess Randell is Clark's cousin,
+an orphan, you know. He lives there, too. The two are great cronies, and
+think a lot of their reputation as tough citizens. The whole bunch have
+a bad name."
+
+As the team from the Harkness ranch was tired out by the long, hard
+journey across the hot desert, it was decided that the boys should spend
+the night at the Mesaville House, and start for the ranch the next
+morning while it was cool. This would bring them into the mountains by
+dusk. Over supper they laughed and talked merrily, recalling the last
+time they had met, which was in a wet, dripping fog off the Long Island
+coast. How differently were they now situated!
+
+After the meal Merritt and Harry sat down to a game of checkers, while
+Tubby, seated in a big chair, indulged in his favorite occupation--namely,
+taking a quiet doze. As for Rob, he wandered about the little town a
+while, but found nothing to interest him. Small as Mesaville was in
+common with most towns of the same character, it boasted several low
+dens in which the cow-punchers, miners and sheepmen gambled and drank
+their hard-earned money away. From these dens, as usual, there came the
+same blasts of foolish talk and loud laughter, as their swing doors
+opened and closed. A glare of light poured from their blazing interiors
+to the quiet, moonlit desert outside.
+
+As Rob, rather sickened, turned away from this section of the town, the
+doors of one of the places swung open, and the forms of Clark Jennings
+and his crony, Jess, emerged; with them was a third figure, that of a
+tall, stoop-shouldered young man. The eyes of all three fell
+simultaneously on the figure of Rob as he walked away.
+
+"Talk of the train and you hear her whistle," grinned Jess. "There he is
+now."
+
+The companion of the two young cow-punchers nodded.
+
+"That's him, all right. I recognize him. It'll be candy to me to get
+even with him."
+
+"We can trust you, Jack?"
+
+"I'll fix him, never fear."
+
+"All right, then, we're going to start. We'll ride into town ag'in in a
+few days and fix you up."
+
+"All right. I need the money. How's Bill and Hank making out?"
+
+"Oh, doing odd jobs around the ranch. You know, Cousin Bill has turned
+out to be quite a cow-puncher; guess he rode horses back East?"
+
+"Yes, his father owned some in Hampton," rejoined the stoop-shouldered
+young man. (It will be recalled that when Bill Bender left Hampton he
+spoke of stopping a while with relatives in the West.)
+
+After a little more talk, the three bade each other good night. Soon the
+clatter of two ponies' hoofs, growing fainter and fainter in the
+distance, marked the departure from town of Clark Jennings and his
+crony. In the meantime, Rob had looked into the hotel, and finding Harry
+and Merritt still engrossed in a hotly contested fifth game, and Tubby
+snoring contentedly, had set out on another stroll. This time his
+aimless footsteps took him in the direction of the desert. By the
+railroad bridge he paused, gazing down at the moonlit water. Where the
+bridge abutments projected, the thready current of the San Pedro
+collected and formed quite a deep pool.
+
+"If this was the East, there'd be fish in there," mused Rob, when
+suddenly behind him he thought he heard a furtive footfall. He turned
+quickly. But, even as he did so, an irresistible shove was given him.
+Blindly extending his arms, Rob plunged forward down the steep
+embankment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE DESERT WATER HOLE.
+
+
+As Rob toppled forward into vacancy, he received a startling momentary
+impression of familiarity from the tones of a loud laugh which rang out
+behind him. Fortunately for him, the water at the foot of the bridge
+abutment was some six or seven feet deep, and he struck it spread-eagle
+fashion, so that beyond the shock of his sudden fall he was uninjured.
+He at once struck out for the bank. When he stood again on the dry
+ground, shaking the water from himself, he began to rack his memory for
+the recollection of where and when he had heard a similar laugh to the
+one that had sounded in his ears as he plunged forward into space. Try
+as he would, however, he could not place it, and giving up the attempt
+finally, he made his way back to the hotel.
+
+The checker players started up as the dripping figure of the Boy Scout
+leader entered the room, and naturally began to ply him with questions.
+Rob's story of the events of the preceding few minutes was soon told,
+but so far as the shedding of any light on the mystery was concerned, it
+remained as blank a puzzle as ever.
+
+"I'd like to think that I dreamed it all," said Rob, "but
+these"--wringing out his wet clothes--"won't let me."
+
+"Well, there's no doubt that you were shoved over intentionally,"
+decided Harry Harkness, "but who is there out here who would do such a
+thing?"
+
+"It might have been one of those two cow-punchers you had the row with
+this afternoon," suggested Merritt.
+
+"No. I saw Clark and Jess ride out of town a good half-hour before Rob
+could have been shoved over," said Harry.
+
+"Maybe they mistook me for some one else," suggested Rob, as the easiest
+way of disposing of the matter. Privately, though, he entertained a
+different opinion. If he could only place that laugh! But try as he
+would, he could not for the life of him recall where he had heard it
+before.
+
+Soon afterward the Boy Scouts and their ranch friend retired to bed,
+Tubby having been sufficiently aroused to make his way upstairs to their
+room. Tired out as Rob was, he sank into a deep sleep almost as soon as
+his head touched the pillow. With Tubby things were different, however.
+His nap in the chair had rendered him wakeful, and he tossed and turned
+till almost midnight before he began to grow drowsy. Just as he was
+dropping off, two persons entered the adjoining room. The partitions, as
+is usual in the West, were of the very thinnest wood, and he could
+easily hear every movement made by their neighbors.
+
+"Well, Jack," said one of the voices, evidently resuming a conversation
+that had been begun some time previously, "so you did the kid up, eh?"
+
+"Yes, sent him head first over the bank. Wish he'd broken his neck. The
+kid is one of that bunch that was responsible for my leaving Hampton."
+
+"Is that so? I don't wonder you are sore at him. Why didn't you hit him
+a good crack on the head while you were about it?"
+
+"Oh, I figured that a cold bath would do as a starter. Wait till that
+bunch gets up to the mountains. Clark and Jess and my friends, Bender
+and Handcraft, will attend to them."
+
+Tubby's brain was in a whirl. He had had no difficulty in recalling one
+of the voices,--that of the one who had spoken of sending Rob over the
+bank of the San Pedro. Who the other was he couldn't imagine, however,
+except that he was evidently a crony of the first speaker. Impulsively
+the stout youth shook Rob's shoulder, and as the other opened his eyes,
+enjoined him to silence.
+
+"Say, Rob, who do you think is in the next room?" he gasped.
+
+"I don't know, I'm sure. The emperor of China?" asked Rob in a sleepy
+voice.
+
+"Hush! don't talk so loud. It's Jack Curtiss!"
+
+"What!"
+
+"It is. I'm sure of it. He was boasting about having shoved you over the
+bank of the river."
+
+"Whatever can he be doing out here?"
+
+"Living on the allowance his father sends him, I suppose. I heard before
+we left Hampton that he was some place in the West. I guess his father
+would soon stop his allowance if he knew he was up to his old tricks.
+Mr. Curtiss thinks that Jack is studying farming."
+
+"Raising a crop of mischief, I guess," breathed Rob, in the same
+cautious undertone that the two boys had used throughout their
+conversation. "I wonder if Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft are with him?"
+
+"That reminds me. I heard him mention them. They are on some ranch up in
+the mountains--where we are going, I gathered."
+
+"That means trouble ahead," mused Rob.
+
+"Are you going to have Jack arrested?"
+
+"No, how can I prove that it was he who shoved me in? Just overhearing a
+conversation is no proof. I know now, though, why that laugh I heard
+sounded so familiar."
+
+Both boys listened for some time, but they heard no further talk from
+Jack Curtiss and his companion regarding themselves. Their talk seemed
+to be about money matters, and as well as they could gather, Jack was in
+debt to some gamblers for a large sum which he despaired of raising.
+
+"I've only got a month to get it in," they heard him say.
+
+"Well, we'll hit upon a plan, never fear," rejoined his companion.
+
+The next morning Harry Harkness was told of the happenings of the night.
+He, of course, already knew of the bold attempt of the former bully of
+Hampton Academy to kidnap one of the Boy Scouts, as related in the first
+volume of this series, and was inclined to warn the boys to be careful
+of such a dangerous character. Viewed in the cheerful light of the early
+day, however, the boys did not regard the matter so seriously. Indeed,
+they forgot all about Jack and his threats in the bustle of preparation
+for their long trip across the waste lands.
+
+Breakfast was soon disposed of, and then the boys in a body made for the
+corral. Jose had been told two hours earlier to catch up and hitch the
+mules, but the long-eared animals were still browsing at the hay pile,
+and not a vestige of Jose was to be seen when the boys emerged.
+
+"There he is in the hay," shouted Rob suddenly, pointing to two long,
+thin legs sticking out of the fodder heap.
+
+"Asleep again, the rascal," exclaimed Harry. "Come on, Rob; you lay hold
+of one leg, and I'll take the other."
+
+Both boys seized hold of a designated limb, and soon the sleepy Jose,
+expostulating loudly, was hauled out into the sunlight.
+
+"Why aren't those mules hitched?" demanded Harry.
+
+"Me go sleep," grinned the Mexican teamster apologetically, showing a
+row of white teeth.
+
+"We don't need telling that. You are always asleep, except when you're
+eating. Get busy now and hitch up."
+
+Urged thus, Jose soon had his rawhide rope circling, and in ten minutes
+had caught up the team with far more agility and skill than would have
+been suspected in such an easy-going individual.
+
+The mules were soon attached to the heavy wagon and the single line
+which guided them threaded. This manner of driving was new to the boys,
+but they were soon to find that most teamsters in the far West use only
+a single rein attached to the lead mules on the right side. The others
+follow the leader. If the driver desires to turn his team to the left,
+instead of pulling the single line, he shouts, "Haugh!" and over swings
+the team.
+
+The boys' baggage had lain at the depot all night, and accordingly the
+first stop was made there. It was soon loaded on, and then, with a loud
+cry of, "Ge-ee, Fox! Gee-ee-e, Maud!" from Jose, the lead mules swung to
+the right. Over the bridge, beneath which Rob had met his misadventure
+of the night before, thundered the heavy vehicle. Swinging in a broad
+circle, they then headed toward the south, where the Santa Catapinas,
+blue and vague, were piled like clouds on the horizon.
+
+Early as was the hour at which the start was made, however, two persons
+in Mesaville besides the hotel employees were up to see it. These were
+Jack Curtiss and the friend who had shared his room the night before.
+They peered out of the window at the four boys with eager glances.
+
+"Look them over well, Emilio," Jack urged his companion, who in the
+daylight was seen to have a swarthy skin and the cigarette-stained
+fingers of a Mexican town lounger. Emilio Aguarrdo was a half-breed
+gambler, and a thoroughly vicious type of man. In him were combined the
+vices and evil passions of two races. His thin lips curled back from his
+yellow teeth as he watched the boys, who, with shouts and laughter, were
+loading up their belongings, while Jose slept on his lofty seat.
+
+"I won't forget them, Jack," he promised, as the wagon started off, the
+long whip cracking like a gatling gun.
+
+All that morning the wagon lumbered on across the hot plains, an
+occasional jack-rabbit or coyote being the only sign of life to be seen.
+As the sun grew higher, the boys saw in the far distance the strange
+sight of the town of Mesaville, hotel and all, hanging upside down above
+the horizon. It was a mirage, as clear and puzzling as these strange
+phenomena of the desert always are.
+
+As the hours wore on, the mountains, from mere wavy outlines of blue,
+began to take on definite form. They now showed formidable, seamed and
+rugged. As well as the boys could perceive at that distance, the hills
+were covered with dark trees to their summits and intersected by dense
+masses of shadow, marking canyons and abysses. A more forbidding-looking
+range could hardly be imagined, yet in the foothills to the southeast
+there grew great savannas of succulent bunch grass on which several
+ranges of cattle roamed.
+
+The noon camp was made in the foothills near a small depression in which
+grew some scanty grass of a dried-up, melancholy hue. The wagon road was
+at some little distance from this, and as soon as a halt was made, Jose,
+at Harry's orders, took a shovel from the wagon and started for the dip
+in the foothills.
+
+"Going to dig potatoes?" asked Tubby casually, as he watched the lazy
+Mexican saunter off.
+
+"No, water," responded Harry. His serious tone precluded any possibility
+that he was joking. But the idea of water in that sterile land seemed so
+ridiculous to the boys that they burst into a laugh.
+
+"I mean it," declared Harry. "Here, you fellows, take those buckets from
+under the wagon. We carry them to water the mules. Pack them over to
+that dip and in half an hour you'll be back with them full."
+
+"Huh! guess I could carry all the water that will come out of that place
+in one hand," commented the fat boy.
+
+"Don't be rash," laughed Harry; "before long you'll take digging for
+water as a matter of course."
+
+"Wish you could dig for ice-cream sodas," muttered the fat boy absently,
+picking up a bucket and starting off after Jose. Rob and Merritt
+followed, while Harry busied himself unhitching the mules for their
+noonday rest. This done, he lighted a fire of sage-brush roots, and
+awaited the return of the boys.
+
+The first thing the boys saw Jose do when he got to the bottom of the
+dip was to lie flat on his stomach and place an ear to the ground.
+
+"He's going to sleep again," suggested Merritt.
+
+"Looks like it," agreed Rob.
+
+But this time the Mexican did not drop off into a peaceful slumber.
+Instead, he presently straightened up, and shouldering his shovel, began
+tramping off once more. The boys followed him over several dips and
+rises till at last he descended into another depression in which grew
+some scanty herbage. Here he repeated the other performance and arose
+with a grunt of satisfaction. Suddenly he began digging furiously.
+
+"Wow! he's making the dirt fly," exclaimed Tubby, as the industrious
+Mexican dug as frantically as though his life depended on it. So fast
+did the work of excavation proceed that soon quite a large hole had been
+made in the soft ground.
+
+"Pity they haven't got him down at Panama," commented Merritt dryly.
+
+Jose had paid no attention to the boys hitherto, but now he suddenly
+shouted, pointing downward into the hole: "Mira qui!"
+
+"What's that about a key?" asked Tubby.
+
+"Try to conceal your natural ignorance," rejoined Merritt, with
+withering scorn. "He said, 'Mira qui.' That means 'Look here.'"
+
+"Oh, and 'latcha-key' means open the door, I suppose," retorted the
+stout youth. "You're a fine Spanish scholar, you are."
+
+"I've a good mind to throw you into that hole," threatened Merritt.
+
+"Try it," shouted the stout youth, hopping about aggravatingly.
+
+"I will."
+
+Merritt made a rush at the irritating Tubby, who leaped provokingly
+away. But suddenly he gave utterance to a yell of dismay, as in his
+efforts to retreat he stumbled into the hole which Jose had dug. By this
+time, to Rob's astonishment, for he had been watching Jose's methods
+with interest, quite a lot of muddy water had appeared, and into this
+accumulation of moisture the stout youth fell with a resounding splash.
+
+Even the solemn Jose smiled as Tubby sputtered and splashed about in the
+pool.
+
+"Come out of that water," commanded Merritt.
+
+"Call this water?" demanded Tubby, sputtering some of it out of his
+mouth. "Ugh! it tastes more like soap suds to me."
+
+"Him alkali," grinned Jose, as Tubby scrambled out and stood, rather
+crestfallen, on the verge of the magic pool; "mucho malo."
+
+"What's 'mucho malo'?" demanded Tubby of Merritt, the self-appointed
+interpreter.
+
+"It means you're a nuisance," retorted Merritt, which reply almost
+brought on a renewal of hostilities. Rob checked them, however, by
+reminding the stout youth that the water was for drinking and not for
+bathing purposes. The boys were anxious to dip their buckets in and
+return to the wagon, but Jose told them they must wait till the water
+cleared.
+
+"Pretty soon him like glass," he said.
+
+Sure enough, after a long interval of waiting, in which there was
+nothing to do but look at the sand and the burning blue sky above it,
+the previously muddy seepage water began to take on a green hue. With a
+yell, the boys rushed forward to dip it up.
+
+But as they bent over the brink of the water hole a sudden shout from
+Jose made them look up. They echoed the Mexican's yell as they did so,
+for outlined against the sky was a startling figure.
+
+It was that of an Indian, his sinewy limbs draped in a blanket of
+gorgeous hue, and astride of a thin, active-looking calico pony. For an
+instant the piercing eyes of the red man and the white boys met, and
+then, with a strange cry, he wheeled his pony and vanished over the rim
+of the depression.
+
+"Was that an Indian?" gasped Tubby, for the figure of the red man had
+appeared and vanished so swiftly that it seemed almost as if it might
+have been a delusion.
+
+"Moqui, very bad Indian," grunted the Mexican, who seemed nervous and
+fearful all of a sudden.
+
+"Oh, I thought maybe it was a jack-in-the-box," said Tubby, with a
+cheerful grin, which froze on his face, however, as suddenly as it had
+come.
+
+The rim of the water hole was surrounded by twenty or more wild figures,
+the companions of the solitary horseman. They had appeared as if by
+magic.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+SILVER TIP APPEARS.
+
+
+The interval of silence which succeeded to the discovery that they were
+surrounded by Moquis was the most trying any of the party had ever
+known. Resistance was useless, for each of the Indians carried a rifle
+of modern make, and even had the boys been armed, they could not have
+defended themselves.
+
+"What do you want?" demanded Rob at length, of an Indian who, judging by
+his ornate feather headdress, seemed to be the chief of the party.
+
+"White boys go to mountains?" demanded the chief.
+
+"Yes. We are going to the Harkness ranch," rejoined Rob, a trifle more
+boldly, as there did not seem to be any active antagonism in the chief's
+tone.
+
+"White boys got money?"
+
+"It's a hold up!" gasped Tubby.
+
+"Say, hold your tongue for once, can't you?" snapped Merritt angrily.
+
+"Yes, we have some money. Why?" inquired Rob.
+
+"We want um."
+
+It was a direct demand, and as the boy hesitated, a grim look spread
+over the chief's face. Rob, like the others, carried most of his money
+in a belt about his waist, but each lad had a few bills in his wallet
+and some small change in his pockets.
+
+"Say, what is this--Tag Day?" demanded Tubby, as the chief, having
+solemnly taken all Rob's small change, drew up in front of the stout
+youth and extended his dirty palm.
+
+"All right," said the fat boy, hastily digging down into his pocket, as
+the red man stared steadily at him. "Here's all I've got. Take it, Chief
+What-you-may-call-um, and I hope whatever you get with it chokes you."
+
+Fortunately for Tubby, the chief did not understand this, or it might
+have fared badly with the irrepressible youth. Merritt's turn came next,
+and then Jose, with many lamentations, surrendered a few small silver
+coins.
+
+"All right. You go now," said the chief, as with a shrill, wild yell he
+dug his naked heels into his pony's sides, and the little beast plunged
+up the steep bank. Echoing his shrill cries, the other Indians joined
+him, and the body of marauders swept off across the foothills at a rapid
+pace.
+
+"So that's the noble red man, is it?" demanded Tubby. "Hum! back home
+we'd call them noble panhandlers."
+
+"What did they want the money for?" asked Rob of the Mexican, who was
+still wringing his hands over the loss of his pocket money.
+
+"Moqui's go snake dance. Moocho red liquor," explained the guide from
+across the border.
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Rob. As he spoke, his eyes fell suddenly on
+a small piece of paper the Indian chief had dropped when he rode up the
+steep side of the water hole. He picked it up and opened its folds
+carefully. It appeared to be a scrap torn from a notebook, and the boy
+stared as his eyes fell on the name "Clark Jennings, His Book."
+
+"Say, fellows, look here," he cried excitedly, as he perused some
+writing on the other side. "That sneak I gave the razzle-dazzle to
+yesterday is in this."
+
+"What, Clark Jennings?"
+
+"The same. Listen!"
+
+From the side of the paper which bore the writing Rob read as follows:
+
+"'They will be near the water hole at noon. All three have money.'"
+
+"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Tubby in a puzzled tone. "I don't
+see the connection, quite."
+
+"It's plain enough. I've heard that these Indians are placid enough if
+they are not interfered with and given money. That fellow Clark knew
+they were somewhere hereabouts--you remember he asked Harry about them
+yesterday. He and Jess Randell left Mesaville early, so as to meet them
+and bribe them to hold us up."
+
+"But can the Indians read English writing?" asked Tubby.
+
+"Yes. Most of the present generation have been to government schools and
+are comparatively well educated."
+
+"Hooray for education!" shouted Tubby. "They sure are promising
+scholars."
+
+There came a sudden shout from above.
+
+"Hey, what's the matter with you fellows, anyhow? You've been gone
+almost an hour."
+
+Harry Harkness stood at the edge of the dip, looking down at the excited
+boys.
+
+"An hour isn't the only thing that's gone," wailed Tubby; "all our
+change has gone, too."
+
+When the laugh at Tubby's whimsical way of putting it had subsided, the
+situation was explained to Harry, who agreed that there was nothing to
+be done.
+
+"We had better be pushing on as fast as possible, though," he said;
+"there's no knowing when those fellows may wake up to the fact that we
+have more money about us and come back after it."
+
+A hasty lunch was cooked and eaten, and the mules watered with a bucket
+of water each. This done, the team was once more hitched, and Jose, who
+had in the meantime dropped off to sleep again, awakened. But as the
+Mexican cracked his whip, and his long-eared charges began to move, a
+sudden surprise occurred. From a little dip ahead a horseman suddenly
+appeared and hailed the boys.
+
+He was a tall, bearded man in regulation plainsman's costume, and his
+sun-burned face was shielded by a broad sombrero. On his face was a look
+of determination and self-reliance. As the boys looked at him they felt
+that here was a man of action and character.
+
+"Hullo, strangers," he said, checking the splendid horse he rode, as the
+mules came to a stop. "Have you seen anything of any Moquis hereabout?"
+
+"Why, yes," responded Rob; "they----"
+
+"Saw us to the extent of all our small change," put in Tubby.
+
+"Mine, too!" wailed the Mexican. "Mucho malo Indiano."
+
+"What! you have been robbed by them?"
+
+"Feels that way," said Tubby, patting his empty pockets.
+
+"That's too bad," said the man. "I am Jeffries Mayberry, the Indian
+agent from the reservation. I am trying to round those fellows up
+without making a lot of trouble over it, and having the papers get hold
+of the story and print exaggerated accounts of an uprising. They are
+really harmless if they don't get hold of liquor."
+
+"Or money," put in Tubby.
+
+"Well, as far as we know, they swept off to the southeast," said Rob.
+
+"Yes. They are going to have their snake dance in the Santa Catapinas.
+Every once in a while they break out and head for there. All the
+renegade Indian rascals for miles round join them, and besides the
+dance, which is a religious ceremony, they drink and gamble. Well, I
+must be getting on, and thank you for your information."
+
+With a wave of his hat, he dug his big blunt-rowelled spurs into his
+horse's sides and was off in a cloud of dust.
+
+"I'd like to help that fellow get his Indians rounded up," said Rob; "he
+seems the right sort of a chap."
+
+"Yes, his name is well known around here," rejoined Harry, as the wagon
+moved onward once more. "He is the best Indian agent that the Moquis
+have ever had, my father says. He knows them, and can handle them at all
+ordinary times. He dislikes fuss, however, and hates to see his name in
+the papers. Otherwise, I guess, he'd have had the soldiers after those
+fellows."
+
+"I wish we had the Eagle Patrol out here," said Merritt. "We'd soon get
+after that bunch of redskins."
+
+"Well, why not?" said Harry enigmatically.
+
+"Why not what?"
+
+"Why not form a patrol out here? You know we talked about it in the
+East in the brief time we had together."
+
+"Say, that's a great idea," assented Rob.
+
+"Who could we get to join, coyotes, rattlers, and jack-rabbits?" asked
+Tubby solemnly.
+
+"Say, Tubby, this is no joking matter," protested Merritt.
+
+"I'm not joking. Never more serious in my life. A coyote would make a
+fine scout."
+
+"Yes, to run away," laughed Rob. "But seriously, Harry, could we get
+enough fellows out here to form a patrol?"
+
+"Sure; I know of a dozen who would join. We could make it a mounted
+division, and maybe we could help Mr. Mayberry round up his Moquis."
+
+"Say, fellows!" exclaimed Rob, with shining face, "that would be
+splendid!"
+
+"Maybe we'd get our money back then," grunted Tubby.
+
+"Tell you what we'll do," said Harry. "To-morrow I'll take you with me,
+Rob, and we'll ride round all the ranches where I know some boys, and
+get them to sign up. We ought to have a patrol organized in a week at
+that rate."
+
+"Put me in as a commissariat officer, will you?" asked Tubby.
+
+"That goes without saying," laughed Rob.
+
+As the wagon jolted on over the road, which grew rapidly rougher and
+rougher, the boys eagerly discussed their great plan.
+
+The foothills were now passed, and they were forging ahead through a
+deep canyon, or gorge, well wooded on its rugged sides with dark trees
+and shrubs. Here and there great patches of slablike rock cropped
+through the soil and showed nakedly among the vegetation. All at once
+Rob gave a shout and pointed up the hillside at one of these "islands"
+of rock.
+
+"Look, look!" he shouted. "Something moved up there."
+
+"Something moved," echoed the rest, Indians being the "something"
+uppermost in every mind.
+
+"Indians?" gasped Tubby.
+
+"No; at least, I don't think so. It was some animal--a huge beast, it
+seemed to be."
+
+As he spoke there came a crashing of brush far up on the hillside, and
+every one in the party, even the sleepy Jose, gave vent to a perfect
+yell of amazement. On one of the rock shelves far above them was poised
+the massive form of an immense bear. His huge body showed blackly
+against the sunset-reddened shelf on which he stood. With the exception
+of one spot of white on his great chest, he was almost black.
+
+"Silver Tip!" shouted Harry Harkness, too excited even to remember his
+rifle, which lay in the bottom of the wagon.
+
+As he uttered the exclamation, the great ragged brute gave a snort of
+apparent disdain and clumsily lumbered off into the darker shadows. The
+next instant he was gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+AT THE HARKNESS RANCH.
+
+
+"Silver Tip!" echoed Rob, as the immense monarch of the Arizona forest
+crashed his way off through the undergrowth. "Well, when you told us
+about him on the steamer, you didn't exaggerate his size. He's as big as
+a pony."
+
+"Plenty of bear steaks on him," remarked Tubby judiciously.
+
+"I guess you'd find them well seasoned with lead," laughed Harry. "Every
+hunter in this part of the country has shot at Silver Tip, and plenty of
+them have hit him, but he always managed to get away. The Indians and
+the Mexicans are scared of him. They think he is not a bear at all, but
+some sort of demon in animal form. Eh, Jose?"
+
+"Silvree Teep mucho malo bear," grunted the Mexican. "Only can kill with
+silver bullet."
+
+"What do you think of that," laughed Harry. "But our hunters have wasted
+too many lead bullets on old Silver Tip to try him with silver ones. But
+in spite of his wonderful good fortune hitherto, that bear's day will
+come."
+
+"Like a dog's," commented Tubby. "You know they say every dog has his
+day--I guess it's the same way with that old sockdolliger."
+
+"That's so, I guess," rejoined Harry.
+
+Soon afterward they clattered and rumbled down a steep grade leading
+from the canyon into a wooded, green dip in the foothills. Before them
+suddenly spread out the vista of apparently illimitable pasture grounds,
+dotted with feeding cattle. In the foreground, half hidden by big
+cotton-wood trees, and overtopped by a windmill and water tank, stood a
+long, low ranch house, with numerous outbuildings and corrals about it.
+
+"That's the range," said Harry, pointing. And as the boys broke into an
+admiring chorus, the mules plunged forward into a brisk trot. In a short
+time the outer gate was reached, and opened by dint of pulling a hanging
+contrivance which worked on a system of levers, that opened and closed
+the gate at the will of whoever was entering or leaving, without
+obliging them to dismount.
+
+Around the bunkhouse stood a group of cowboys in leather chapareros and
+rough blue shirts, awaiting the call to supper in the low, red-painted
+cook-house. Some of them were gathered about a tin basin, removing the
+grime of the day. In a large corral were their ponies, browsing on a
+railed-off stack of grain hay, and occasionally kicking and biting and
+squealing, as some fractious soul among them instigated a fight.
+
+Suddenly a door in the ranch house opened, and a figure, which the boys
+recognized as that of Mr. Harkness, emerged. His hands were extended in
+a hearty welcome, and a smile wreathed his bronzed features.
+
+"Hulloa, boys!" he hailed. "Welcome to the Harkness ranch."
+
+The boys broke into a cheer, and leaping from the wagon, ran forward to
+greet their kind-hearted host, whom they had last met on the deck of a
+stranded steamer on the Long Island shoals.
+
+After the first chorus of greetings and questions had passed, Mr.
+Harkness inquired what had delayed them.
+
+"Indians," rejoined Harry. "They tried to steal mules going down, and
+they robbed the boys here of their small change on their way up."
+
+The face of the rancher grew graver.
+
+In response to his questions, Rob had soon placed him in possession of
+the facts surrounding the appearance of the Moquis at the water hole and
+the subsequent events.
+
+"We shall have to keep a sharp eye on the cattle, then," he said
+soberly. "I've got a bunch over on the far range, right up in the
+foothills. If these gentry get hungry they are likely to make a raid on
+them, or they may even do it out of pure wantonness."
+
+"Yes, it wouldn't be the first time," said Harry. "By the way, pop, we
+met Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, on the way up. He's after them."
+
+"That's bad," gravely commented the rancher.
+
+"Bad!" repeated Harry. "Why, dad, I've heard you yourself say that he
+was the best Indian agent you ever knew."
+
+"So he is, in a sense. But he is too kind-hearted. What those renegade
+rascals need is a file of soldiers with fixed bayonets and a burning
+desire to use them. However, come in, boys. Jose, wake up and put those
+trunks off. Get two men to help you bring them into the house. Come in,
+boys, and make yourselves at home in a rancher's shanty."
+
+Mr. Harkness may have called it a shanty, but to the boys' eyes there
+had seldom been presented a more attractive interior than that of the
+Harkness ranch house. The furniture was dark and heavy, and the walls
+were hung with trophies of the hunt. Bright-colored Navajo rugs were all
+about, lending a brilliant dash of brightness to the dark woods and
+walls. At one end of the room was a huge open fireplace, which was now
+filled with fresh green boughs.
+
+"Why--why, it's great!" exclaimed Rob, glancing about him admiringly.
+
+"Glad you like it," said the rancher, evidently well pleased at the
+boy's pleasure. "Those heads there are all the tale of my rifle."
+
+"The collection is only lacking in one thing--a single item," commented
+Rob.
+
+"Which is----"
+
+"The head of Silver Tip, the giant grizzly."
+
+"You know about him, then?" Mr. Harkness seemed much surprised. At the
+time of his leaving the stranded ship he had not overheard the
+conversation between his son and the Boy Scouts.
+
+"We've seen him," put in Tubby, nodding his head very sagely.
+
+Then of course the story of their glimpse of the monster had to come
+out.
+
+"It is unusual for Silver Tip to be about here at this time of year,"
+commented Mr. Harkness. "He usually does not visit us till later. That's
+an additional peril to the cattle."
+
+"How is that?" inquired Rob.
+
+"In two ways. In the first place, Silver Tip is what we call a rogue
+grizzly. He lives all alone, hunts by himself, and has nothing to do
+with any others of his kind. He is as cruel, wantonly so, as he is
+formidable. For instance, last winter he killed fifty or more head of
+steers just for the sheer love of killing. Then, too, he is dangerous in
+another way. It takes very little to stampede a band of cattle. I have
+seen them started by a jack-rabbit leaping up suddenly from the brush.
+The sight of such an appalling monster as Silver Tip would be sure to
+start them off. No, I certainly don't like to hear that he is about."
+
+Not long after this remark the announcement of supper put an end to
+further discussion of Silver Tip and his ways. Then and there Rob
+determined in his own mind that, if it were possible, the skin of that
+inaccessible monster would journey East with him when he returned.
+Absurd as the idea seemed, of him, an Eastern boy, green in the ways of
+the West, winning such a trophy, still Rob could not help dwelling on
+it. After the meal Mr. Harkness left the house for the bunkhouse, to
+give some orders to the night-riding cow-punchers. The news of the near
+neighborhood of the Moquis had made him nervous and unsettled.
+
+The evening passed away in further discussion among the boys of the
+proposed mounted patrol of Boy Scouts, and before they knew it, ten
+o'clock had arrived. Pretty well fatigued by the events of the day, they
+were not unwilling to seek their beds, which were situated in three
+small upper rooms, directly above the big main living room.
+
+Rob was just dropping off into unconsciousness when he heard a
+clattering of hoofs outside. Somebody had ridden up to the ranch house
+at full speed.
+
+"Who is it?" he heard asked in Mr. Harkness's voice.
+
+"It's me--Pete Bell," an excited voice rejoined, evidently that of the
+horseman who had just arrived.
+
+"Well, Pete, what is it?" inquired the voice of Mr. Harkness once more.
+
+"Why, sir, you know I was one of the bunch you sent to the far pasture
+to-night."
+
+"Yes, yes! Go on, man! What is it--the Indians?"
+
+"No, sir, no Indians. But, sir, we've seen it again."
+
+"What, that foolish ghost-story thing! Haven't you fellows got over
+harping on that yet?"
+
+"It ain't imagination, Mr. Harkness, as you seem to think," Rob heard
+the cow-puncher protest. "I seen it with these eyes as plain as I see
+you now. It come out on the cliff where the old cave dwellings are, and
+we saw it wring its hands a few times and then vanish just like it's
+always done before."
+
+"Nonsense, Pete," replied the hard-headed rancher. "I thought you knew
+better than to take stock in ghost stories."
+
+"So I do, sir; but when you see the ghost itself, that's getting close
+to home."
+
+"Well, get back to the pasture now, Pete, and I'll guarantee the ghost
+won't bother you any more. Come on, get some color in your face. You are
+chattering like a child."
+
+"Won't you send somebody back with me, sir? That thing ought to be
+looked into."
+
+"Nonsense! I wouldn't waste time, men or thought on such rubbish. If you
+get track of any Indians, let me know, but don't bother me with any
+ghost stories. Now be off!"
+
+"Y-y-yes, sir," said the cow-puncher obediently, but Rob noted that his
+pony didn't travel back toward the far pasture as fast as it had come
+away from it.
+
+"So," thought Rob to himself, "there are haunted cliff dwellings near
+here, as well as a rogue grizzly and a bunch of bad Indians. Well, it
+looks as if we had fallen into an ideal spot for Boy Scouts."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER."
+
+
+The next morning before breakfast Rob recounted to his chums the
+conversation he had overheard the night before. The story of the ghost
+of the ancient cliff dwellings was, it appeared, no new thing on the
+Harkness ranch, which accounted for its owner's apathy in regard to it.
+Successive batches of cow-punchers doing duty in the far pasture at
+night professed to have seen the grisly object on its nightly rounds,
+but nobody had ever had the courage to investigate it.
+
+After the morning meal had been dispatched, Mr. Harkness announced that
+he expected to be busied about the ranch for the morning.
+
+"But, Harry, you take the boys down to the corral," he said, "and have
+one of the men catch up some horses for them. You boys know best the
+kind of stock you want, so I'll let you choose them."
+
+The boys thanked him, and a few moments afterward he left the room. A
+short time later he galloped off to make a round of the different
+sections of the range and to prosecute inquiries about the renegade
+Moquis.
+
+The corral was, as was usually the case, full of ponies of all colors
+and grades of disposition, from mild beasts to fiery, half-broken
+bronchos. As the boys neared the enclosure, a stout little cowboy in a
+huge hairy pair of "chaps" approached them, airily swinging a lariat.
+His eyes opened and shut as rapidly as a loose shutter slat in a breeze.
+Cowboys have nick-names for everybody. His was of course "Blinky."
+
+"Good mornin', Master Harry. Want some cattle this a. m.?" he inquired.
+
+"Yes, Blinky. Have you got some good ones caught up?"
+
+"Why, yes, you can have White Eye, and what kind of stock does your
+friends fancy?"
+
+There was a twinkle in Blinky's fidgety optics as he asked this, for
+the boys, although they had donned regular ranch clothes, still bore
+about them that mysterious air which marks a "tenderfoot," as if they
+bore a brand.
+
+"How about you, Rob?" asked Harry, also smiling slightly. "Want a bronc,
+or something more on the rocking-horse style?"
+
+Now, although Rob could ride fairly well, and both Tubby and Merritt had
+had some practice on horseback, none of the boys were what might be
+called rough riders. But something in Blinky's tone and Harry's covert
+smile aroused all Rob's fighting blood.
+
+"Oh, I want something with some life in it," he said boldly.
+
+"Um-hum! The same will do for me, but not _too_ much life, if you
+please," chimed in Tubby, somewhat dubiously.
+
+"Anything I don't need to use spurs on," ordered Merritt, following up
+the general spirit.
+
+"All right, young fellers," said the cow-puncher, opening the corral
+gate. "Come on in while I catch 'em up for you."
+
+The instant the rawhide began whirling about Blinky's head the ponies
+evidently realized that something was up, for they began a wild race
+round and round the corral, heads up and heels lashing out right and
+left. The three tenderfeet regarded this exhibition with some
+apprehension, but they were too game to say anything.
+
+"I'll rope my own," said Harry, picking up a lariat which hung coiled
+over a snubbing post near the gate. The ranch boy stood by the post,
+leisurely whirling his rawhide and just keeping the loop open till a
+small bay pony, with a big patch of white round each eye, came plunging
+by with the rest of the stampede. The lariat suddenly became imbued with
+life. Faster it whirled and faster, the loop finally sailing through the
+air gracefully and landing in a rawhide necklace round White Eye's neck.
+
+At almost the same instant that White Eye became a captive, Blinky let
+his loop go, and roped a small, active buckskin pony which, as soon as
+it felt the loop on its neck, laid back its ears and began squealing and
+bucking viciously.
+
+"I guess that's your pony, Rob," said Tubby generously, as the
+cow-puncher drew the struggling little animal up to the snubbing post,
+and tying him there, went into the barn for a saddle.
+
+"If you are in any hurry, you can have him," volunteered Rob.
+
+"No, I guess I can wait. How about you, Merritt?"
+
+"Same here, I'm in no hurry."
+
+"Well," thought Rob, "I'm in for it now, and if that bronc doesn't buck
+me into the middle of next week, I'm lucky."
+
+After more struggles, the bridle and saddle were forced on the buckskin,
+and Blinky cast him loose, still maintaining a grip on the bridle,
+however.
+
+"All aboard!" he said, with a grin in Rob's direction.
+
+Feeling anything but as confident as he looked, Rob boldly put his foot
+in the heavy wooden stirrup with its big leather tapadero covering, and
+swung into the saddle. Hardly had he touched it when a strange thing
+happened. The boy felt as if an explosion must have occurred directly
+beneath him, and he was being shot skyward by it. The next instant the
+sensation changed, and as the broncho struck the hard ground of the
+corral, all four legs as stiff as drum sticks, Rob felt as if every bone
+in his body was in process of dislocation.
+
+"Stick to her, boy! Yow-ee-ee!"
+
+Blinky, roaring with laughter, shouted the advice. At this moment, too,
+just when Rob would much rather not have had any spectators about,
+several cow-punchers appeared as if by magic, and perching themselves on
+the corral rails, settled down to enjoy the spectacle.
+
+"Whoop!" they yelled. "That's a regular steamboat bucker."
+
+"Go on, boy! Grip her!"
+
+"Don't go to leather!"
+
+These and a hundred other excited exclamations were borne dimly to Rob's
+ears as the buckskin threshed about, trying in vain to rid itself of the
+troublesome boy. How he did it Rob never knew, but he stuck like a
+cockle-burr, and that without "going to leather," or, in other words,
+gripping any part of the saddle. He must have been a born rider to stand
+the antics of the maddened cayuse as he did. One second the little
+brute, tiring of bucking, would rear backward as if it must overbalance,
+and the next it would be fairly standing on its head. Once it lay down
+and tried to roll over, but the high horn of the saddle prevented this.
+As it collapsed to the ground, Rob skillfully slipped off, and when it
+struggled upon its feet again, the boy was standing over it and was as
+firmly in his seat as ever by the time the animal was ready for a new
+performance.
+
+All at once the buckskin made a mad rush for the corral fence. It was
+five feet in height, and Rob turned sick as he faced what seemed
+inevitable disaster.
+
+The yells of the cowboys, however, made him determined to stick it out.
+
+"I've stood it all this time. I'll stay with it if it kills me," thought
+the boy.
+
+The next instant the little broncho rose at the fence. The bars rose in
+front like an impassable wall.
+
+"He'll never make it," was the thought that flashed through Rob's head.
+
+But even as the fear of a direful crash flashed through his mind, the
+active little animal he bestrode had cleared the barrier, its hind hoofs
+just splintering the upper edge of the top rail. The buckskin alighted
+on the other side, trembling and sweating, with expanded nostrils and
+heaving flanks, but its ears were no longer back, nor did its eyes show
+white. The broncho seemed to have realized that it had played its trump
+card and lost.
+
+"Get up!" cried Rob, kicking the shivering pony in the sides.
+
+Meekly the little buckskin obeyed the rein, and Rob rode it back toward
+the corral gate--a conquered animal. From that time on the buckskin
+owned Rob as its master, and a better animal never bore saddle. As the
+cow-punchers burst into a loud chorus of admiring yells, wrung from them
+by the plucky exhibition, Rob took off his hat and waved it three times
+round his head. For the life of him, he could not have abstained from
+this little bit of braggadocio.
+
+"Yip-ee!" he yelled.
+
+"Good for you!" shouted Harry. "It was a mean trick of Blinky, and I was
+going to get him in a lot of trouble for it, but--all's well that ends
+well."
+
+"Say, you were fooling all of us. You must have been out with a Wild
+West show," exclaimed Blinky admiringly, as Rob patted the wet shoulder
+of the conquered buckskin.
+
+"I'm glad I could stick on," declared Rob modestly.
+
+"Stick on!" echoed another cow-puncher. "Why, you're a broncho buster,
+boy!"
+
+"Well, I've had enough of it to last me for a long time," laughed Rob.
+
+Two other ponies were soon caught and saddled, and much to the delight
+of Tubby and Merritt, they found that the cow-puncher's love of fun had
+been worked off when Rob was given the buckskin, and that they were each
+provided with mounts that tried no such tricks as standing on their
+heads.
+
+"Now, then, come on," said Harry, when all were mounted. "We've got a
+big round to make. The first ranch we'll head for will be Tom Simmons's.
+He and his two brothers will join, I'm sure. After that we'll finish up
+the others and issue a call for a meeting."
+
+The remainder of the day was spent in the saddle, with a brief stop for
+a noonday dinner at the Simmons ranch. By the end of the day the Boy
+Scouts' list contained ten names, which were as follows: Tom, Jack and
+Bill Simmons, Eph and Sam Ingalls, Henry Randolph, Charley and Frank
+Price, Silas Lamb and Jeb Cotton.
+
+All the would-be scouts had been ordered to report, three days from the
+day of their signing on, at the Harkness ranch. In the meantime the boys
+wrote to Eastern headquarters for organization papers, which, as Rob and
+his companions were already so well known, they anticipated no
+difficulty in receiving without delay, which, indeed, proved to be the
+case. Rob had, meanwhile, received a letter from Hampton which reported
+the successful formation of another patrol in that village where the
+famous Eagles first saw the light.
+
+The interval between the call for the meeting and the meeting itself the
+boys put in in practicing riding and shooting. As they all three were
+familiar with the rifle and revolver, even that brief practice made them
+fairly expert with firearms and their riding improved every day.
+
+Mr. Harkness and Mr. Simmons had consented to act as Scout Masters, and
+were present at the first meeting of the organization. Rob, on account
+of his experience as leader of the Eagle Patrol, was voted in as leader,
+with Merritt and Harry as corporals. Tubby was appointed a sort of drill
+master and instructor to the new scouts. This done, they all dispersed,
+subject to immediate call.
+
+As the ranches of Mr. Harkness and his neighbors, though separated
+widely by actual distance, were each joined by telephone, it was decided
+that it would be an easy matter to assemble the scouts at a given
+rendezvous. The opportunity to test this came sooner than any of the
+boys expected. One afternoon, about a week after the formation meeting,
+during which interval Tubby had held two drill nights, a cow-puncher on
+a sweat-covered horse galloped into the corral. Slipping off his
+exhausted animal, he dashed at top speed toward the house.
+
+"The cattle in the far pasture have stampeded," he panted, bursting into
+the rancher's office, "and are headed for the Graveyard Cliffs!"
+
+"Boys, boys!" shouted Mr. Harkness, hastily springing up from his
+account books and jamming a sombrero on his head. "Here's a chance to
+show your boy scouts some action. Here, you, Blinky, saddle my horse and
+the boys' animals! Sharp work now! There's not a moment to lose! We must
+head them off!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE.
+
+
+Such a scene of confusion, hurry and mad rushing about of men and horses
+as ensued, following the first shout of the alarm, the boys had never
+witnessed. Cow-punchers staggered about under the burden of heavy
+Mexican saddles. They tried to buckle on spurs and saddle and bridle
+their wild little horses all at the same time. But confused as the whole
+affair looked to an uninitiated spectator, there was system underlying
+it all. Each man knew what was required of him.
+
+At last all was ready. The last revolver was thrust into the last
+holster, and the last cinch was tightened round the belly of the last
+expostulating pony. Mr. Harkness, mounted on a powerful bay horse
+somewhat heavier than the others, rapidly explained to the punchers what
+had occurred. The cattle were stampeding on the far pasture. Their
+course led direct for the Graveyard Cliffs, a series of precipitous
+bluffs over which, in the past, many stampeding steers had fallen to
+their death.
+
+Fortunately, the steers had to take a round-about way, owing to various
+obstructions. The distance to be traversed by the men, cutting off every
+inch possible, was about five miles. It had to be covered in less than
+half an hour. No wonder the cow-punchers looked to their cinches and
+other harness details.
+
+Amid a wild yell from the throats of the score of cowboys who had been
+about the ranch when the summons was first given, the cavalcade swept
+forward.
+
+"Wow! this is riding with a vengeance," shouted Rob, above the roar of
+hoofs, in Harry's ear.
+
+"S-s-s-say!" sputtered Tubby, "I hope my horse doesn't stumble."
+
+Suddenly a voice close at hand struck in. It was one of the cow-punchers
+shouting to another.
+
+"Remember the last stampede, when Grizzly Sam was trampled?"
+
+"You bet I do. His pony's foot stuck in a gopher hole, and the whole
+stampede came lambasting on top of him."
+
+The boys began to look rather serious. Apparently they were off on a
+more dangerous errand than they had bargained for. It was too late to
+draw out now, however, and, anyhow, not one of them would, for this
+would have shown "the white feather."
+
+"Did you give the alarm to the rest of the boys?" asked Rob of Harry,
+after an interval of silence among the boys.
+
+"Yes. I only had time to call Simmons's place, but they'll get the
+others. Simmons's place is not far from the Graveyard Cliffs, and the
+boys will be there ahead of us, likely."
+
+"How about the others?"
+
+"They have to come from greater distances. They may not arrive till it's
+all over."
+
+It was impossible to see any of their surroundings in the thick cloud of
+dust. All about them, as far as the eye could penetrate the dense
+smother, were straining ponies and shouting cowboys.
+
+"How can we tell when we get to the place?" asked Tubby.
+
+"My father is riding up ahead," rejoined Harry; "that big bay of his can
+make two feet to a pony's one. He'll call a halt when we get there."
+
+In the meantime a rumor had been passed from mouth to mouth among the
+cow-punchers. Moquis had been seen near the far pasture the night
+before, and open accusations were made that the renegades had started
+the stampede so as to be able to make a feast off the dead cattle in
+case they swept over the cliffs.
+
+"Mr. Mayberry hasn't succeeded in rounding them up yet, then," said Rob.
+
+"No," rejoined Harry, "and I heard one of the punchers say yesterday
+that Indians for miles around are coming into the mountains. I guess
+they won't disperse till after the snake dance."
+
+Suddenly a wild yell from up in front caused them to halt.
+
+"Got there, I reckon," uttered one of the cowboys. As he spoke there was
+but one question in every mind.
+
+"Were they in time?"
+
+As the dust cloud settled, and they were able to make out their
+surroundings, the boys found that they had come to halt on a sort of
+plateau. Just beyond this was a sheer drop, as if a great hunk had been
+cut out of the ground. This drop--which was fully sixty feet
+deep,--formed the dreaded Graveyard Cliff, so called, although, as will
+be clear from our description, it was more properly a deep, narrow
+gulch.
+
+The distance across the yawning crack in the plateau--which was
+undoubtedly of volcanic origin--varied from a hundred feet or more to
+fifteen, and even less. A queerer place the boys had never seen.
+
+But they had little time to gaze about them. Blinky, who was one of the
+crowd of stampede arresters, gave a sudden shout as they came to a
+halt.
+
+"Hark!"
+
+From far off came a sound that, to the boys, resembled nothing so much
+as distant thunder. But unlike thunder, instead of ceasing, it grew
+steadily in volume.
+
+"Here they come!" shouted Mr. Harkness, as the advancing roar grew
+louder. The solid earth beneath the boys' feet seemed to shake as the
+stampede swept toward them.
+
+Suddenly, a mile or more off, a dark cloud grew and grew until it spread
+half across the blue sky, wiping it out.
+
+"They raise as much dust as a tornado," exclaimed Blinky. "Pesky
+critters! I'd like to get a shot at the Moquis what started them."
+
+But it was no time to exchange remarks. The face of each man in that
+little band was grave, and he appeared to be mustering every ounce of
+courage in his body for the struggle that was to come.
+
+To the boys, as to the men, the situation was clear enough. Across the
+plateau the stampeding cattle were thundering, headed straight for the
+Graveyard Cliffs. Behind them, like a mighty wall, rose the sheer face
+of a precipice where a bold peak of the range soared upward. Between
+this wall and the ominously named gorge was the little band of horsemen.
+They faced the problem of turning the stampede or being swept with it
+into the jaws of the deep, narrow gulch. Small wonder that the bravest
+of them felt his heart beat a little quicker as the cattle rushed on.
+
+Suddenly Mr. Harkness espied the boys.
+
+"You boys go back!" he shouted sharply. "I should never have let you
+come. This is too dangerous for you."
+
+"Why, dad, we'll be all right. Let us stay and see it out," protested
+Harry.
+
+"Go back at once, boy," said Mr. Harkness sternly. "You don't know the
+danger."
+
+There was no disobeying the stern command, and the boys, all of them
+with the exception of Tubby, regretting the necessity, turned their
+ponies away. The stout youth was inwardly much gratified at the idea of
+avoiding the stampede.
+
+"Beefsteak is all very fine," he said to himself, "but I like it inside,
+and not on top of me, at the bottom of a gulch."
+
+As the boys wheeled their mounts and separated from the main body of the
+cow-punchers, three other mounted figures swept toward them with wild
+yells. The newcomers were the three Simmons brothers, the recruits to
+the Boy Scouts. With them, and close behind, came Charley and Frank
+Price and Jeb Cotton. All had ridden post haste to the spot on receipt
+of the hastily 'phoned message from headquarters.
+
+Each boy gave the secret salute of the scouts as he drew rein, and
+awaited orders. A regular howl of disappointment went up when they
+learned that they had been ordered off "the firing line," so to speak.
+
+"It's a shame," growled Tom Simmons.
+
+"That's what," assented Jeb Cotton, trying to quiet his little calico
+pony, which was dancing about, scenting the excitement in the air.
+Indeed, all the animals seemed to have caught the infection, and were
+prancing about, almost unmanageable. Perhaps the increasing thunder of
+the hoofs of the advancing stampede had something to do with it.
+
+"Well, what are we to do?" demanded Frank Price.
+
+"Stay here and wait for a chance to help if we see it," said Rob.
+
+"Oh, pshaw! They're busy. They won't see us. Let's slip in while they're
+not looking," urged Bill Simmons.
+
+"The first duty of a Boy Scout is to obey orders," said Harry Harkness
+decisively.
+
+"It's mighty hard to sit here doing nothing, though," grumbled Frank
+Price.
+
+"That's what our soldiers had to do in many a battle," his brother
+Charley reminded him.
+
+"That's so. I guess we'll have to be patient."
+
+And now, under the direction of Mr. Harkness, the cattlemen spread out
+in a long line, so arranged as to be capable of sweeping across the
+vanguard of the cattle in a compact skirmish line rank. Each puncher
+had his gun ready for action, and at the word from Mr. Harkness they
+rode toward the approaching stampede at a quick lope.
+
+Up till now the stampede had not been visible. Only the signs of its
+approach were manifest. Suddenly, however, over the crest of a little
+rise, there swept into view an appalling spectacle. Hundreds of
+fear-crazed cattle, bellowing as they raced forward, and clashing their
+horns together with a sharp sound, formed the vanguard. Behind them came
+a huddled mass, goring and trampling each other in their terror.
+
+The boys' faces paled as they watched.
+
+"Yow-yow-yow-eee-ee-e!"
+
+The yells burst from the cattlemen's throats above the noise of the
+stampede.
+
+Bang! Bang! Bang!
+
+A score of revolver shots crackled as the line swept forward and rode at
+full gallop right across the faces of the leaders of the mad rush. It
+was terribly risky work. The slightest stumble would have meant death.
+At the head of his cow-punchers, like a general leading his forces,
+rode Mr. Harkness on his big bay.
+
+Clear across the front of the line the cow-punchers swept without
+appreciably diminishing the speed of the onrush.
+
+A second time they tried the daring tactics. This time they succeeded in
+checking the cattle a little, but only a bare two hundred yards remained
+between the leaders and the edge of the Graveyard. In this space
+galloped the cow-punchers. Could they stop the advance in time to save
+themselves from a terrible death?
+
+"Father! Father!" shouted Harry, in his painful excitement standing up
+in his stirrups.
+
+The boys felt a great sympathy for the rancher's son. If the cattle were
+not stopped in the next few minutes a terrible death seemed certain to
+overtake the brave man and his helpers.
+
+"Fire at 'em!" yelled Mr. Harkness suddenly.
+
+This was a desperate last resort. Hitherto, the cow-punchers had been
+firing in the air. Now, however, they leveled their revolvers at the
+oncoming herd.
+
+Bang! Bang! Bang!
+
+Several of the leaders crumpled up and fell to the ground, mortally
+wounded. In a second they were trampled under foot, but suddenly, after
+twenty or more had been thus slaughtered, the band began to waver. At
+last, with mad bellows, and amid frantic yells from the cowboys, their
+ranks broke and wavered.
+
+"Yip-yip-u-ee-ee!"
+
+The triumphant shrieks of the cowboys rang out as the disorganized herd
+split up.
+
+"Wow! They've turned 'em!" shouted Harry. "Hooray!"
+
+The next instant his shout of delight changed to a yell of dismay, and
+he turned his pony sharply.
+
+"Come on, Rob!" he cried. "We've got to get out of here!"
+
+"They're coming this way!" yelled Tubby, spurring his pony and galloping
+off at top speed, the others following him. As Rob's pony jumped
+forward, however, it stumbled and threw the boy headlong. He kept his
+hold of the reins, fortunately, and was up on its back in a trice. But
+the second's delay had been fatal.
+
+Sweeping toward the boy, from two points of the compass, were two
+sections of disorganized stampede. The cattle were trying, according to
+their instinct, to reunite.
+
+"I'm hemmed in," was Rob's thought.
+
+He switched rapidly round to a quarter where there seemed a chance of
+escape, but already it had been closed. The boy was on a sort of island.
+Behind him was the gorge, deep and terrible. In front of him on two
+sides, death was closing in on the wings of the wind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+HEMMED IN BY THE HERD.
+
+
+There was little time to think, and hardly more for action. A more
+perfect trap of its kind than that in which Rob was caught could not
+have been devised by the utmost ingenuity.
+
+Shouts of alarm went up from the cow-punchers, and from the little group
+of Boy Scouts as they saw his danger. But not one of those horrified
+onlookers could do more than sit powerless. All about them, like waves
+shattered against a mighty rock, surged the broken stampede, with wild
+cattle rushing hither and thither. They themselves were, in fact, by no
+means out of danger.
+
+With an angry bellow, the leader of the advancing left flank of cattle
+lowered his head. His mighty horns glistened like sharpened sabres.
+Straight at the boy he rushed, while his companions followed his
+example.
+
+An involuntary groan burst from the watchers. It seemed as if Rob's doom
+was sealed. But suddenly something happened that they still talk about
+in that part of the country.
+
+Quick as thought the boy decided that there was only one course open to
+him. Advance he could not. Retreat, on the other hand, seemed barred by
+the gulch. Yet on the gulch side of the beleaguered boy lay the only
+path.
+
+Foolhardy as the attempt appeared, Rob decided that the risk must be
+taken.
+
+A shout burst from the lips of the powerless onlookers as they realized
+what the boy meant to do.
+
+Leap the gulch on his pony!
+
+A run, or take-off, of some fifty feet lay between Rob and the dark
+crack in the earth that was the gulch. Short as was the distance, from
+what Rob knew of the active little beast he bestrode, he believed he
+could do it. He raised his heavy quirt above the pony's trembling
+flanks.
+
+Crack!
+
+The lash descended, cutting a broad wale on the buckskin's back. He gave
+a squeal of rage and bounded forward.
+
+"Yip-yip!" yelled Rob.
+
+Out of the peril of the situation a spirit of recklessness seemed to
+have descended upon him. He could have shouted aloud as he felt the
+active bounds of the cayuse. One hurried glance at the awful gap before
+him gave the boy a rough estimate of its width--ten feet or more. A
+tremendous leap for a pony. But it must be done.
+
+"Yip-yip," yelled Rob once more, as he dug his spurs in deep, and the
+maddened pony gave one tremendous bound that brought it right to the
+edge of the pit.
+
+[Illustration: Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the leap.]
+
+For one sickening instant it paused, and Rob felt the chill fear of
+death sweep over him. Then the brave buckskin gathered its limbs for the
+leap. Like steel springs its tough muscles rebounded, and the yelling,
+shrieking cow-punchers saw a buckskin body, surmounted by a cheering
+boy, give a great leap upward and--alight safe on the farther side of
+the chasm.
+
+Cheer after cheer went up, while Rob waved his hat exultantly and yelled
+back at his friends.
+
+Nothing like that leap for life had ever been witnessed before.
+
+The amazed cattle, cheated of their prey, wavered, and the leaders tried
+in vain to check themselves. Desperately they dug their forefeet into
+the edge of the gulch, but the treacherous lip of the chasm gave under
+their weight, and with a roar and rattle, a cloud of dust and a
+despairing bellow, four of them shot over the edge and vanished.
+
+Rob could not repress a shudder as he patted his buckskin, and realized
+that but for the little steed's noble effort he might have shared the
+fate of the dumb brutes.
+
+Before long the cow-punchers had the rest of the steers rounded up, and
+ready to be driven back to the Far Pasture. Many were the threats
+breathed against the Moquis as they did so. The cattle, as is the nature
+of these half-wild brutes, having had their run out, seemed inclined to
+collapse from fatigue. As long as unreasoning terror held sway among
+them they had galloped tirelessly, but now their legs shook under them
+and they quivered and drooped pitifully. But the cattlemen showed them
+no mercy. With loud yells and popping of revolvers and cracking of
+quirts, they rode round them, getting them together into a compact mass.
+
+While all this was going on, Rob had ridden his buckskin along the edge
+of the gulch. Some two miles below the place where his leap had been
+made, he found a spot which seemed favorable for crossing. The pony slid
+down one bank on its haunches and clambered up the other like a cat. As
+the boy traversed the bottom of the Graveyard, he noticed a peculiarly
+offensive odor. The smell which offended his nostrils, he found, sprang
+from the carcasses of the cattle which had at various times fallen into
+the gulch, above where he was crossing.
+
+"Wonder why they don't put up a fence here," thought the boy.
+
+He did not learn till afterward that that very thing had been done, but
+every time a freshet occurred in the mountains a part of the gulch caved
+away, carrying with it the fence and all. It had thus grown to be less
+of an expense to the ranchmen to lose a few cattle every season than to
+erect new fences constantly.
+
+By the time Rob rejoined his friends, the cattle were standing ready for
+the drive back to their pastures. A more forlorn looking lot of beasts
+could not have been imagined.
+
+"They know they done wrong," volunteered Blinky, gazing at the dejected
+herd.
+
+"Well done, my boy," exclaimed Mr. Harkness, as Rob rode up. "I never
+saw a finer bit of horsemanship. But let us hope that such a resource
+will never again be necessary."
+
+"I hope so, too, Mr. Harkness," said Rob. "I tell you I was scared blue
+for a minute or two. If it hadn't been for this gritty little cayuse
+here, I'd never have done it."
+
+"So I did you a good turn, after all, when I roped up that four-legged
+bit of dynamite, thinking to play you a fine joke," said Blinky.
+
+"You did," laughed Rob, "and I thank you for it."
+
+"Say, Rob," put in Tubby plaintively, after the other boys had got
+through congratulating Rob, and wringing his hand till, as he said, it
+felt like a broken pump handle. "Say, Rob, don't ever do anything like
+that again, will you?"
+
+"Not likely to, Tubby--but why so earnest?"
+
+"Well, you know I've got a weak heart, and----"
+
+"A good digestion," laughed Mr. Harkness; "and speaking of digestions,
+reminds me that we haven't had any dinner."
+
+"As I was just about to observe," put in Tubby, in so comical a tone
+that they all had to burst out laughing, at which the stout youth put on
+an air of innocence and rode apart.
+
+"But," went on Mr. Harkness, "the 'chuck-wagon' I sent out to the Far
+Pasture last night should still be there. It isn't more than five miles.
+If you boys think you can hold out we can ride over there, and we can
+have a real chuck-wagon luncheon. How will that suit you?"
+
+"Down to the ground," said Rob.
+
+"From the ground up," chimed in Tubby, who had recovered from his
+assumed fit of the sulks, at the mention of the immediate prospect of a
+meal.
+
+"It'll be great," was Merritt's contribution to the general chorus of
+approval.
+
+"Very well, then. Blinky, you ride on ahead and tell Soapy Sam to cook
+us up a fine feed."
+
+"With beans, sir?" asked Blinky in an interested tone.
+
+"Of course. And if he has any T bone steaks, tell him we want those,
+too."
+
+"Say, did you hear the name of that cook?" asked Tubby, edging his pony
+up to Merritt's, as the cow-puncher spurred off on his errand.
+
+"Yes--Soapy Sam; what of it?"
+
+"Oh, I thought it was Soupy Sam, that's all," muttered Tubby.
+
+"Say, is that meant for a joke? If so, where is the chart that goes with
+it?"
+
+But Tubby had loped off to join the cow-punchers, who with yells and
+loud outcries were getting the steers in motion.
+
+Presently the cloud of dust moved forward. After traversing some rough
+country a yell announced that the cabins and the chuck-wagon of the Far
+Pasture were in sight. The cow-punchers immediately abandoned the tired
+cattle, leaving them to feed on the range, and swept down on the camp
+like a swarm of locusts.
+
+Soapy Sam, his sleeves rolled up and a big apron about his waist,
+flourished a spoon at them as they began chanting in a kind of
+monotonous chorus:
+
+    "Chick-chock-we-want Chuck!
+    Chuck-chuck we want chuck!
+      Cook-ee! Cook-ee! Cook-ee!"
+
+What's the luck?
+
+As they chanted they rode round and round the cook, whose fires and pots
+were all on the ground. In a huge iron kettle behind him, simmered that
+staple of the cow-puncher, beans. The atmosphere was redolent with
+those sweetest of aromas to the hungry man or boy, sizzling hot steaks
+and strong coffee. Soapy Sam had fairly outdone himself since Blinky had
+ridden in with news that the boss and some guests were on the way.
+
+"Now you go way back and sit down, you ill-mannered steer-steering bunch
+of cattle-teasers," bellowed Soapy Sam indignantly, at the singing
+punchers. "If you don't, you won't get a thing to eat."
+
+"Oh, cook-ee!" howled the cowboys.
+
+"Oh, I mean it, not a mother's son of you," yelled Soapy Sam. "All you
+fellows think about is eating and drinking, and then smoking and
+swopping lies."
+
+"How about work, cook-ee?" yelled some one.
+
+"Work!" sputtered the cook with biting sarcasm. "Why, if work 'ud come
+up to you and say 'Hello, Bill!' you'd say, 'Sir, I don't know you.'"
+
+Further exchange of ranch pleasantries was put a stop to at this moment
+by the arrival of Mr. Harkness and the boys, for the Simmons boys and
+the other Boy Scouts had been included in his invitation. The cowboys
+dispersed at once, riding over toward the huts, where they unsaddled
+their ponies and turned them into a rough corral. Water from a spring
+was dipped into tin basins, and a hasty toilet was made. By the time
+this was finished, Soapy Sam announced dinner by beating loudly on the
+bottom of a tin pan with a spoon.
+
+"Grub!" yelled the cowboys.
+
+"Come and get it," rejoined Sam in the time-honored formula.
+
+Within ten minutes everybody was seated, and in the lap of each member
+of the party was a tin plate, piled high with juicy steak, fried
+potatoes, and a generous portion of beans of Soapy Sam's own peculiar
+devising. Handy at each man's or boy's right was a steaming cup of
+coffee. But milk there was none, as Tubby soon found out when he
+plaintively asked for some of that fluid.
+
+"Maybe there's a tin cow in the wagon," said Soapy Sam; "I'll see."
+
+"A 'tin cow'," repeated Tubby wonderingly; "whatever is that?"
+
+A perfect howl of merriment greeted the fat boy's query.
+
+"I guess its first cousin to a can of condensed milk," smiled Mr.
+Harkness. "But if you'll take my advice, you'll drink your coffee
+straight, in the regular range way."
+
+And so the meal went merrily forward, in the shadow of the frowning,
+rugged peaks of the Santa Catapinas. In after days, the Boy Scouts were
+destined to eat in many strange places and by many "strange camp fires,"
+but they never forgot that chuck-wagon luncheon, eaten under the
+cloudless Arizona sky on the open range.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE.
+
+
+The meal disposed of, the cow-punchers and the boys, all of whom were
+pretty well tired out by their exertions of the morning, lounged about a
+while. Then preparations for the return to the ranch began. A guard was
+to be left over the cattle, however, as they were still restless and ill
+at ease, and the boys begged hard to be allowed to form a part of it. At
+first Mr. Harkness would not hear of it.
+
+"Why, dad, the boys are out here to get experience," protested Harry,
+"and what better training could they have in ranch life than by standing
+a night watch over restive cattle?"
+
+"That's all very well," rejoined his father, "but you must remember that
+I am in a measure responsible for the safety of these young men, and
+you boys have, up to date, displayed quite a capacity for getting into
+mischief."
+
+"And getting out of it again," put in the irrepressible Tubby. And the
+victory was won, as many another victory has been, by a burst of
+laughter. Soon after, the boys loped to the top of a nearby knoll, and
+waved good-by to the ranch-bound party. Then they turned their ponies
+and cantered back to the cow-punchers' huts at a smart pace. Besides the
+boys, the three Simmons brothers, Frank and Charlie Price and Jeb Cotton
+were to share the Scouts' watch, Mr. Harkness having promised to 'phone
+to their various homes explaining their absences. In charge of the four
+punchers was Blinky, who had also been given orders by Mr. Harkness to
+keep the boys out of mischief. The cattle, however, grew so restive
+during the afternoon that the attention of the punchers was fully
+occupied in "riding them." It seemed to soothe the bovines to have their
+guardians constantly near them.
+
+"The brutes smell Injuns, just as sure as my name is Blinky Small,"
+declared Blinky emphatically.
+
+The boys, after riding a few rounds with the punchers, began to find
+this occupation growing monotonous, and looked about for some other
+means of diversion.
+
+"I know," shouted Tubby suddenly.
+
+"Tubby's got an idea," laughed Merritt.
+
+"Tell him to hold it. He may never get another," jeered Rob.
+
+"Let's play ball," went on the stout youth, absolutely unperturbed by
+the laughter Rob's comment aroused.
+
+"Fine," came sarcastically from one of the boys. "Where's the bat?"
+
+"Where's the ball?"
+
+"Where are the mitts?"
+
+"Oh, where's the earth?" interrupted Tubby impatiently, stemming the
+tide of objections. "Say, can't you fellows play ball without a big
+league collection of stuff?"
+
+"Well, here's a bit of board I can trim down a bit and make a bat of,"
+said Jeb Cotton.
+
+"Good for you, Jeb. You are a young man of resource and ingenuity.
+You'll make a good scout. How's this for a ball?"
+
+The stout youth held up a rounded bowlder, which must have weighed at
+least four pounds.
+
+"Oh, rats! Say, what do you want to do--brain us?"
+
+"Couldn't," responded Tubby enigmatically.
+
+"Couldn't what?"
+
+"Brain you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Haven't got any."
+
+"Any what?"
+
+"B-r-a-i-n-s, brains!" yelled Tubby, retreating to a safe distance.
+
+"I have it!" exclaimed Rob suddenly.
+
+"What, the pip?"
+
+"No, an idea," responded the boy recklessly, forgetting his own comments
+on Tubby's inspiration.
+
+"Ho! ho! ho!" howled the stout youth delightedly. "Step up, ladies and
+gentlemen, and see the eighth--or ninth wonder of the world--Rob Blake
+has an idea. Step up lively now, before the little creature gets away."
+
+"We can borrow some potatoes from Soapy Sam," said Rob, when some of the
+laughter at his expense had subsided.
+
+"Borrow them?" exclaimed Bill Simmons. "I guess it will mean giving
+them. What I couldn't do to a potato with this bat----"
+
+He flourished the piece of lumber Jeb Cotton had shaped, as he spoke.
+However, Rob's suggestion was tried; but even as Bill Simmons had
+prophesied, the borrowed potatoes did not prove a success as baseballs.
+One after another, they were scattered into tiny fragments, and Soapy
+Sam, on being requisitioned for more, threatened to evict the entire
+party from his premises.
+
+"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Tubby petulantly. "What'll we do?"
+
+"Go swimming," laughed Merritt.
+
+"I have it," exclaimed Rob suddenly.
+
+"He's got it again--a relapse of ideas," grinned Tubby.
+
+"What's the matter with climbing that cliff and exploring those old cave
+dwellings?"
+
+"Great!" was the unanimous verdict. Privately, one or two of the boys
+who had heard the ghost legend, were not quite as eager as they seemed
+to be, to traverse the mysterious passages and tomb-like dwellings of a
+vanished race, but they didn't say so.
+
+"It's about three hours to sundown. We'll have to shake a leg to get up
+there and back," said Frank Price.
+
+Acting on this advice, no time was lost in making a start.
+
+"Have we all got revolvers?" asked Rob suddenly.
+
+"Sure," responded Jeb Cotton. "I brought mine when I heard that it was a
+stampede we were called out on."
+
+The others had done likewise.
+
+"Say," put in Tubby gloomily, as they set out, "what's the good of
+taking guns with us?"
+
+"Why, you never know what you'll run into in a cave," said Bill
+Simmons.
+
+"Huh, I never heard of guns being any good against ghosts," chillily
+remarked the fat youth.
+
+"Well, you're a nice cheerful soul, you are," burst out Rob. "Are you
+scared?"
+
+"Oh, no; I'm not. Go ahead and rout your ghosts out. Stir 'em up, and
+make 'em jump through the hoops and back again. Fine!" exploded Tubby.
+
+"Whatever is the matter with him?" asked Merritt, looking about for an
+answer.
+
+"That idea he had a while back has gone to his head," laughed Harry.
+
+And such was the general opinion.
+
+As has been said, the cliff, at the summit of which were the cave
+dwellings, lay about half a mile back from the huts of the Far Pasture
+cow-punchers. The cliff was in itself a remarkable formation. It towered
+sheer up and down like the wall of a house. It was just as if a giant
+cheese-knife had shaved a neat slab off the face of the mountain--a slab
+some four hundred or more feet in height, and a mile or more wide at the
+base.
+
+From where the boys were, however, they could perceive an old cattle
+trail winding up the mountainside, off beyond one edge of the smooth
+cliff. It traced its way among the scrub growth and stunted trees
+almost--so far as they could judge--to a point near the summit, and
+afforded an easy way of reaching the top of the cliff.
+
+An hour or more of tough climbing brought them to the top of the
+mountain--or high hill--which formed a sort of plateau. No time was lost
+in making for the edge of the cliff, in the face of which, some twenty
+feet or more from the top, were bored the entrances to the
+cave-dwellers' mysterious homes.
+
+"Well," said Tubby triumphantly, as he gazed over the dizzy precipice
+"no cave man's home for us."
+
+It looked as if the stout youth was right. A narrow ledge, forming a
+sort of pathway against the naked side of the cliff, ran below the cave
+dwellings as a shelf is seen to extend sometimes below a row of pigeon
+holes. But from the summit of the cliff to the ledge was, as has been
+said, all of twenty feet, and there seemed to be no way of bridging the
+distance.
+
+"Those cave men must have been way ahead of the times," mused Tubby.
+
+"How do you make that out?" inquired Jack Simmons, Bill's younger
+brother.
+
+"Why, they must have had air ships. They couldn't have rung their front
+door bells any other way."
+
+"Nonsense they must have had some way of getting down," interposed Rob,
+who was looking about carefully--"Hooray, fellows! I've got it," he
+exclaimed suddenly, "look!"
+
+He pushed aside a clump of brush and exposed to view a flight of steps
+cut in the face of the rock. So filled with dust were they, however,
+that they had not been visible to any but the sharp eyes of the Boy
+Scout leader.
+
+"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt, as Rob made for the lip of
+the cliff.
+
+"Going down there, of course," rejoined Rob.
+
+Merritt, as he gazed over the brink and viewed the sheer drop, down
+which one false step would have sent its maker plunging like a loosened
+stone, was about to utter a warning. He checked himself, however, and,
+with the rest, eagerly watched Rob, as the boy made his way down the
+precipitous steps, or rather niches, cut in the face of the rock.
+
+It was breath-catching work. The descending boy was compelled to cling
+to the surface of the cliff like a fly to a window-pane. Between him and
+the ground, four hundred feet under his shoe soles, nothing interposed
+but the narrow ledge of rock outside the cliff-dwellers' "front doors."
+
+Rob made the descent in safety, and presently stood in triumph on the
+ledge. One after another, the Boy Scouts of the Range Patrol followed
+him, and presently they all stood side by side on the narrow shelf.
+
+"Say, I hope the underpinnings of this don't give way," said Tubby, as
+he joined them, his round cheeks even ruddier than usual from the
+exertion of his climb.
+
+"You ought to have been an undertaker, Tubby," exclaimed Merritt. "All
+you can think of is death and disaster and ghosts."
+
+"Well, if you feel so good about it, you can have the first chance at
+going into one of those holes," parried Tubby.
+
+"Very well, I will," rejoined Merritt, flushing. He privately did not
+much relish the idea of being the first to enter those long-untrod
+passageways. They looked dark and mysterious. An oppressive silence,
+too, hung about the boys, and half-unconsciously they had dropped their
+voices to a whisper, as they stood on the threshold of a civilization
+long passed to ashes.
+
+"Go ahead," said Rob, coming to Merritt's side. Together the two boys,
+followed by the remainder of the newly recruited Boy Scouts, entered the
+rocky portal of the first of the dwellings.
+
+A faint, musty smell puffed out in their faces.
+
+"Smells like grandpa's cellar in the country," remarked Tubby, sniffing
+it.
+
+"Where you used to swipe milk and apples, I suppose," laughed Merritt.
+Hollow echoes of his merriment went gurgling off down the dark passage,
+almost as if distant voices had taken them up and were repeating the
+joke over and over, till it died away in a tiny tinkle of a laugh, like
+the ghost of a baby's whisper.
+
+"Ugh, I guess I won't laugh again," remarked Merritt.
+
+"Say, Rob, how about a light?" asked Jeb Cotton suddenly.
+
+"I've got a bit of candle here in my pocket," rejoined Rob. "I put it
+there the other night when Harry was developing some pictures. By the
+way, I wish you'd brought your camera, Harry."
+
+"So do I. This would make a dandy flashlight in here."
+
+The boys gazed about them admiringly, as Rob struck a match from his
+waterproof match-safe and lit the candle. They had penetrated fully a
+hundred feet into the cliff by this time, and the walls about them were
+marked with curious paintings and carvings, the work of the
+long-vanished cave-dwellers.
+
+Under their feet was a thick, choking dust, that entered their eyes,
+ears and noses as they breathed, almost suffocating them. But not one of
+them was inclined to notice this, when there was so much to take up his
+attention elsewhere.
+
+"I wonder what the cave-dwellers ate----" began Tubby, when his words
+were fairly taken out of his mouth by a startling occurrence.
+
+A sudden puff of wind, chill as the breath of a tomb, blew toward them
+down the tunnel, and at the same instant Rob's candle was blown out. It
+was all the boys could do to keep from shouting aloud with alarm as they
+stood plunged into sudden blackness.
+
+The next instant there came an appalling sound, an onrush like the voice
+of a hundred waterfalls. The wind puffed in their faces in sharp blasts,
+and something swept by them in the darkness with a strange, muffled
+shriek.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING.
+
+
+"L-l-let's get out of here--_quick_!"
+
+Tubby gasped the exclamation, as with a resounding rush the mysterious
+sounds swept by.
+
+"Ouch, somebody hit me in the face!" howled Jeb Cotton suddenly.
+
+"Me, too!" yelled Bill Simmons.
+
+"Say, fellows," shouted Rob suddenly, as the noise lessened, "be quiet,
+will you, till I light a candle. I've an idea what that noise was, and
+it was nothing to get scared at."
+
+"Oh, it wasn't, eh?" protested Tubby angrily. "Well, something hit me a
+bang on the nose."
+
+"And me on the ear," chimed in Jeb Cotton.
+
+"And me----" Bill Simmons was beginning, when Rob checked him.
+
+"Let up a minute, will you, and give me a chance? All that racket was
+caused by nothing more than a lot of old bats."
+
+"Cats, you mean, or flying rats," said Tubby scornfully.
+
+"No, bats. Look here. I knocked down one."
+
+Rob held his candle high above his head, and the astonished boys saw
+lying under a projecting bit of rock one of the leathern-winged
+cave-dwellers.
+
+"Huh," remarked Tubby, "and I thought it was ghosts. The ghost of the
+cliff. The one the cow-puncher said he saw."
+
+"I guess that ghost has leather wings and a furry body, if the truth
+were known," laughed Rob, as he flung the bat he had knocked down into
+the air, and the creature flapped heavily off toward the cave mouth.
+
+"Yes, ghosts are----" began Merritt, when he broke off suddenly. His
+mouth opened to its fullest extent, and his eyes grew as round as two
+big marbles. "Great hookey--what's that?"
+
+His frightened expression was mirrored on the rest of the countenances
+in the candle-lit circle, as a strange sound was borne to the ears of
+the Boy Scouts.
+
+"It's footsteps," gasped Jeb Cotton.
+
+"Coming this way, too," stuttered Tubby, edging back.
+
+"Nonsense," said Rob sharply, but nevertheless loosening his revolver in
+its holster. "It's the wind or something."
+
+"The funniest wind I ever heard," interrupted Tubby scornfully. "It's
+got feet--hark!"
+
+Nearer and nearer came the mysterious sound. They could now hear it
+distinctly--a soft "phut-phut" on the dusty floor of the passage.
+
+"Wow-oo, I see two eyes!" yelled Tubby, suddenly taking to his heels.
+His toe caught on a hidden rock, and he fell headlong in the choking
+dust.
+
+Scarcely less startled than the fat boy was Rob, as he made out, glaring
+at them from beyond the friendly circle of light, two big green points
+of fire.
+
+"Who's there?" he cried sharply.
+
+There was no answer, but the two green globes never moved.
+
+"Speak, or I'll fire!" cried the boy.
+
+"A-choo-oo-o--o-o-o-o-o!"
+
+The tense silence was shattered by a loud sneeze from Tubby, whose
+nostrils had become filled with the irritating dust. At the same instant
+an unearthly howl rang through the rocky corridors--a cry so terrible
+that it set Rob's heart to beating fiercely.
+
+He pulled the trigger more by instinct than anything else, and six
+spurts of flame leaped from the barrel of his automatic. With a howl
+more ear-piercing than the first, the points of fire vanished, and there
+was the sound of a heavy body falling.
+
+"Dead! whatever it is," was Rob's thought, but nevertheless he proceeded
+cautiously. It was well that he did so, for as he held his candle aloft,
+the huge, dun-colored body, which lay on the ground directly in front of
+him, made a convulsive spring. Rob, on the alert as he was, leaped back,
+and avoided it by a hair's breadth.
+
+"A mountain lion!" cried Harry.
+
+"That's what, and a whumper, too," exclaimed Merritt. "I guess we've
+laid the ghost all right. In the moonlight a light-colored creature like
+this would look white against the cliff face."
+
+"I wonder if that last sneeze of mine killed it?" remarked Tubby, who
+had leisurely sauntered up. There was now no doubt that the great tawny
+creature was dead. Its final spring must have been a purely convulsive
+act, for Rob's bullets had pierced its skull in three places.
+
+"Say, fellows," exclaimed Rob suddenly, "the fact that this brute was in
+here proves a mighty interesting fact."
+
+"And that is, that it's dead."
+
+"Please be quiet for two consecutive minutes, Tubby, if you can do it
+without injuring yourself. It means that there is another entrance to
+this place somewhere."
+
+"How do you make that out?" asked Jeb Cotton.
+
+"By applying a little scout lore. There are no tracks at the mouth of
+the cave, yet this lion is fat and well-fed, so that it must get its
+food outside somewhere. Therefore, there must be another entrance to the
+cave."
+
+"Quod erat demonstrandum," quoth Tubby learnedly.
+
+"Which is all the Euclid you know," teased Merritt.
+
+"Well," asked Rob, while Harry Harkness skillfully skinned the lion,
+"shall we go on or turn back?"
+
+"We'll go on!" shouted everybody.
+
+"If you guarantee no more scares," amended Tubby.
+
+With the tawny pelt slung over Harry's broad shoulder, the little party
+therefore pressed on into the darkness.
+
+"We'll have to hurry," said Rob suddenly, regarding his candle, of which
+not much was left.
+
+"How far do you guess it is from the entrance?" questioned Harry.
+
+"I've no idea," was Rob's rejoinder. "I half believe now we were wrong
+to try to find a way out this way."
+
+He said this in a low voice, so as not to alarm the others, who were
+behind the leaders. It did indeed begin to look as if the young
+explorers had placed themselves in a predicament.
+
+Presently, however, the air began to grow fresher, and, uttering a cheer
+at this sign that they were near to daylight, the lads rushed forward.
+Still cheering, they emerged into a place where the passage broadened,
+and in another moment would have been out of the farther end of the
+tunnel but for an unexpected happening that occurred at that moment.
+
+Rob, who had been slightly in advance, gave the first warning of the new
+alarm. As the welcome daylight poured upon his face, and he gazed into a
+sort of cup-like valley beyond the passage mouth, he heard a sudden
+"z-i-ip!" past his ear, like the whizzing of a locust.
+
+The next instant fragments of rock scattered about his head and he heard
+a sharp report somewhere outside.
+
+Like a flash, the boy threw himself flat on his stomach and wriggled
+back into the tunnel.
+
+"They're firing at us!" cried Tubby.
+
+"Yes, but who?" demanded Merritt.
+
+"That's the question," was Rob's rejoinder. "I guess it must be Indians,
+but then, again, it may be hunters, who, having seen something move,
+fired. I'm going to try to find out."
+
+"Oh, Rob, be careful," begged Merritt.
+
+"That's all right. Here, Bill, lend me that long pole you've got."
+
+Bill Simmons obediently handed over a long branch he had broken off to
+use as a guiding staff, before they entered the dark passageway. Rob
+pulled off his sombrero and stuck it on the pole.
+
+Then he cautiously poked it out of the rocky portal.
+
+"Bang!"
+
+Rob drew in the hat and examined it.
+
+"Phew!" gasped Tubby. "That's a fine way to ventilate a fellow's lid."
+
+A bullet had bored a hole right through the soft gray crown.
+
+"Guess that's Indians, all right," said Harry; "nobody else would be
+able to shoot like that."
+
+"It is Indians," announced Rob. "I saw one dodge behind some brush when
+I looked out."
+
+"Well, what are we going to do?" gasped Charley, the younger of the
+Price brothers, a lad of about fourteen. His face grew long, and he
+began to whimper.
+
+"Hey, hush up, there," admonished Tubby. "Boy Scouts don't cry when they
+get in a difficulty; they sit down and try to figure some way out of
+it."
+
+"And, in this case, that is easy," said Rob.
+
+"Huh?"
+
+"I said it is easy. All we've got to do is to go back again."
+
+"What, without the candle? Make our way through that dark place?"
+
+"Of course. That is, if you don't want to get drilled full of holes by
+those Indian bullets."
+
+"But supposing they follow us?"
+
+"We'll have to take our chances on that," rejoined Rob.
+
+"Well, you're a cool hand, I must say. You calmly propose that we shall
+walk back through a dark tunnel, with Heaven knows how many Indians at
+our heels?"
+
+"It's all we can do, isn't it?"
+
+"Um-m-well, I suppose so. Come on, then, if we've got to do it, the
+sooner we start the better."
+
+"Wait one minute," said Rob, and, stooping down, he pulled up some dry
+brush that grew near the cave mouth. He piled this in a heap and set
+fire to it.
+
+"Whatever are you doing that for?" asked Tubby.
+
+"I know," said Jeb Cotton, "so that the Indians, or whoever it is firing
+at us, will see it and think we are still there."
+
+Rob nodded approvingly.
+
+"That's it," he said, and plunged off into the blackness of the tunnel.
+He led the others through it at a rapid pace, but they did not travel so
+fast that they beat the daylight, however, for when they emerged at the
+other end it was dark, and the stars were shining above them. Far below
+they could see little flickering points of fire, where the cow-punchers
+were keeping watch.
+
+"Wish we were down there," muttered Tubby, as they all emerged on the
+ledge. "I'm hungry."
+
+"So am I," agreed Rob, "and the quicker we get down the mountain the
+quicker we'll get some hot supper."
+
+As he spoke, from the mouth of the tunnel, which acted as a sort of
+gigantic speaking-tube, there came what seemed to be the hollow echo of
+a shout.
+
+"The Indians!" gasped Rob; "they're after us! Up the steps, everybody,
+quick!"
+
+A rush for the rough stone steps followed, and so fast did the boys
+press forward that Rob had to warn them of the danger of speed.
+
+"If you slipped you'd be over the edge," he said.
+
+It was enough. The rush moderated. The thought of slipping off into
+black space was enough to alarm the stoutest hearts among them.
+
+Tubby was the last up but Rob, who remained behind with drawn revolver.
+He had nerved himself to fire at the first Indian head that showed out
+of the tunnel.
+
+"Come on, up with you," Rob urged, as the fat boy placed his foot on the
+rough flight hewn in the sheer face of the cliff.
+
+"All right, Rob," rejoined the stout youth, scrambling upward. "I'll be
+up before----"
+
+He broke off short, with a terrible cry that rang out far into the
+night.
+
+Rob, speechless with horror, saw the stout youth's feet slip from under
+him, and his hands clutch unavailingly at the smooth face of the cliff.
+
+The next instant--for the whole thing happened in the wink of an
+instantaneous photographic shutter--Tubby was gone.
+
+With a dreadful sinking of his heart, Rob stretched far over the edge of
+the ledge, which hung like some flying thing, between heaven and earth.
+Below him was utter blackness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+CAPTURED BY MOQUIS.
+
+
+Too frightened to utter a sound, the others, who by this time had
+reached the summit of the cliff, gazed over into the inky depths beneath
+them. It was Merritt who first found his voice.
+
+"Rob, oh, Rob! What has happened?"
+
+"Don't ask me yet," gasped the boy below him, and, throwing himself flat
+on the narrow shelf, he peered over into the black void.
+
+"Tubby, Tubby!" he called softly.
+
+"Gee, that was a drop, all right!" came up a voice from below him.
+
+The astonished Rob almost fell over the edge of the ledge himself in his
+excitement.
+
+"Oh, Tubby, is that really you?"
+
+"I guess so," came the voice below, "but I wish you fellows would hurry
+up and get me out of this; I'm hungry."
+
+"Gracious!" thought Rob; "fancy thinking of hunger in such a position as
+he is in."
+
+"I'm clinging to a tree," came up Tubby's voice. "I grabbed it as I was
+falling. It's only a very little tree, though, and I don't just know how
+long it'll bear me."
+
+"Get in as close to the roots of it as you can," breathed Rob, hardly
+daring to speak above a whisper for fear of dislodging his chum by the
+mere vibration of his voice.
+
+"All right," said Tubby, and Rob could hear him cautiously making his
+way along his slender aerial perch.
+
+Rob turned his face upward and hailed his corporal.
+
+"Say, Merritt," he cried, "take the fellows, and get back to camp as
+quick as your legs will carry you, and then get back up here again.
+Bring ponies and ropes with you--all you can get of them, and maybe
+Blinky and some of the men had better come."
+
+"All right, Rob. But how about you?"
+
+"I'll wait here. Hurry back, now."
+
+"We will," and an instant later Rob was alone, and his companions were
+making full speed to the camp.
+
+"How are you making out, Tubby?" called down Rob in a low tone.
+
+"All right. But my legs are cramped. Gee! I was lucky to strike this
+tree."
+
+"You bet you were. I noticed a few small ones clinging to the rocks as
+we peeped over, but I didn't think they'd ever be the means of saving a
+life."
+
+"Don't holler till we're out of the wood. It's bad luck."
+
+"Well, they ought to be back within an hour with the ropes. I guess they
+can get ponies up that trail."
+
+"I hope so," groaned Tubby. "I don't think I can hold out much longer."
+
+"Good gracious!" gasped Rob, "is the tree beginning to give?"
+
+"No, without grub, I mean. I tried to eat some of the leaves off this
+tree, but they're bitter and don't taste just right."
+
+"What! You've been moving about?"
+
+"Sure. I've got to have something to do."
+
+The very idea of any one's stretching their limbs in such a position as
+the fat boy's, almost made Rob's hair stand on end.
+
+"Tubby must have nerves of steel," he murmured, "or else not know the
+meaning of fear."
+
+Then he went on aloud:
+
+"For goodness' sake, don't move any more, Tubby. The slightest false
+move might send you off into space."
+
+"All right, I'll keep still," Tubby assured him, but in a free-and-easy
+tone.
+
+"Well, perhaps it's a good thing he isn't scared," thought Rob; "if he
+were, it would make the job of getting him up twice as difficult."
+
+For a long time he lay silent on the narrow ledge, so absorbed in the
+difficulties of the situation that he forgot everything. Even the
+recollection that there was a strong likelihood of the Indians pursuing
+them down the passage had entirely gone out of his mind--displaced by
+Tubby's accident. Suddenly the boy started up with a bound, which
+almost projected him over the ledge after Tubby.
+
+A hand had been placed on his shoulder.
+
+Before Rob could utter a sound another hand was placed over his mouth
+and he felt himself lifted from his feet. Peering down into his face,
+the startled boy could make out, in the faint starlight, half a dozen
+cruel countenances.
+
+How bitterly he blamed himself for being thus caught off his guard! The
+simplest precaution would have kept him safe, but he had allowed the
+soft-moccasined red men to slip up on him without placing the slightest
+difficulty in their path. If ever a boy felt foolish and angry, it was
+Rob, as his silent captors slid noiselessly as cats into the black mouth
+of the tunnel of the cave-dwellers.
+
+"I'm a fine scout to be caught napping like that," was his thought.
+
+But as the redskins bore him into the narrow portal, they were compelled
+to release one of his hands. Rob took advantage of this to break a
+shrub, in a way which he knew would indicate as plain as print to any
+Boy Scout who saw it which way he had been carried off.
+
+The next instant they were in the black tunnel. The Indians ran swiftly
+but noiselessly, bearing in their sinewy arms the powerless boy.
+Frightened Rob was not. His brain was too busy thinking up some plan of
+escape for that. His uppermost emotion was impatient anger at his folly.
+Even a loose rock, placed at the mouth of the passageway, would have
+been tripped over by the Indians, and thus have given him warning of
+their coming. Bitterly he blamed himself for his oversight. More bitter
+still were his thoughts, as his mind reverted to poor Tubby, hanging
+alone in space, without any means of knowing what had become of Rob, for
+the shelf, or ledge, on which the sudden drama of his taking off had
+been enacted, overhung the cliff face as an eyebrow does an eye.
+
+On and on traveled the Moquis, almost noiselessly pitter-pattering along
+the dusty floor of the passage. They skillfully avoided treading on the
+carcass of the skinned mountain lion, and it was not long before they
+emerged in the bowl-like valley in which Rob had seen the solitary
+marksman who had made a sieve of his hat.
+
+At the rocky portal the Moquis paused and grunted gutturally, and then
+started forward on a steady jog-trot once more.
+
+"Well, this is a luxurious way of riding," thought Rob, as he reposed in
+the sort of armchair the arms of the Indians formed, "if the
+circumstances were different, I wouldn't mind taking a long trip like
+this."
+
+It was so dark in the cup-like valley that the boy could see but little
+of the country. He only knew they were in the strange depression by
+noting how the dark walls upreared against the lighter hue of the
+star-sprinkled sky.
+
+Before long, however, his tireless kidnappers began to trot along over
+rising ground. For what seemed hours they traveled thus. Presently the
+boy became aware of a faint glare in the near distance. At the same
+time, the short, sharp yapping of a mongrel dog was borne to his ears.
+Before many moments had passed, they came in sight of several tepees,
+pitched under a grove of trees in a small, and seemingly inaccessible,
+canyon. The cook fires were lighted, and big pots hung over some of them.
+Children, squaws and dogs swarmed about, the curs yapping and snapping
+at each other. As the Indians who had captured the boy gave a shrill
+screech, the village literally boiled over with activity. From the
+tepees poured braves and squaws and more children. All rushed forward to
+meet the returning redskins.
+
+"Well, they seem glad to see us," thought Rob to himself; "wish I could
+say the same for myself. If only I knew how Tubby came out, I'd feel
+better."
+
+As he was borne into the circle of firelight, the boy was surrounded by
+a curious, chattering crowd, who pulled his clothes about, and poked him
+inquisitively. Suddenly, a tall Indian, his face hideously daubed with
+red, yellow and black, emerged with a stately stride from a tepee
+covered with rude pictures of hunts and battles. He regarded the boy
+with a piercing eye for a moment, and then, raising his arm, pointed to
+another tepee, and gave some sort of an order.
+
+Instantly Rob's arms were seized and pinioned by the Indians who had
+brought him from the cliff, and he was hustled over the ground and flung
+roughly into the tepee.
+
+"So that's their game, is it," gritted out Rob savagely, every drop of
+his fighting blood aroused by the cold-blooded ferocity of his manner of
+entrance into the patched and smoky tent.
+
+"Well," he went on, "there's no use getting mad, I suppose. Anyhow, it's
+a strange experience--captured by real Indians. That's more than any of
+the Boy Scouts at home can say, anyhow."
+
+No attempt had been made to bind him, and Rob therefore peeped out of
+the flap of his place of confinement to see what was going on about him.
+
+His experience of Indians had hitherto been confined to the Wild West
+show variety. He was deeply interested in the life of the tepee village,
+as he watched it busily moving about him. The savory smell of the
+Indians' supper, as they dispatched it, caused a strange sensation of
+emptiness about Rob's ribs, but no one came near him with food.
+
+"I'll be hanged if I'll ask them for it," grunted Rob to himself,
+"especially after the way they chucked me in here."
+
+When the meal was over, the braves pulled out their clay-bowled pipes
+and smoked stolidly. Not one threw even a glance at his tepee, and Rob
+began to think they must have forgotten him. He grew terribly thirsty,
+and not far from the camp there must be a brook, as he realized, by
+hearing the silvery tinkle, tinkle of its waters over the rocks.
+
+"Well, as no one will bring me a drink, I'll go and get one," thought
+the boy to himself, and he boldly threw back the flap of the tent and
+marched out.
+
+For an instant a wild hope flashed across him that he could escape. No
+attempt was made by any member of the smoking circle to check him, and
+the boy reached the bank of the stream without the slightest
+interference being opposed to his movements.
+
+"I'll try it," thought Rob. "I believe they've forgotten me."
+
+He placed his foot on a rock and was about to spring to the farther bank
+of the little creek, when a sharp voice behind him checked him abruptly:
+
+"White boy, come back!"
+
+The words came in the guttural, grunting tone that was unmistakably
+Indian.
+
+Rob wheeled, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a gleaming
+rifle-barrel.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+TUBBY'S PERIL.
+
+
+"That's queer; I don't see a sign of him."
+
+Merritt Crawford, on the return of the Boy Scouts with ropes and help,
+peered about the ledge for a trace of his leader, but in vain.
+
+"He can't have gone over, too."
+
+It was Blinky who suggested this alarming possibility.
+
+"Don't suggest such a thing," protested Merritt. "Hullo, Tubby!--below
+there--are you all right?"
+
+"Fine and dandy, but snake down a rope as soon as you can, will you, and
+you might tie a sandwich on it, if you don't mind."
+
+"You can have your sandwich when we get you up," promised Merritt, as
+the others, despite their worry over Rob's disappearance, broke into a
+loud laugh at Tubby's unconcerned manner.
+
+"Come on, now, and lend a hand with the ropes," ordered Blinky, who had
+brought several lariats up on his pony, and was busily engaged in tying
+them together so as to form a long lifeline. Tubby had not yet been
+informed of Rob's disappearance, as it was feared that it might unnerve
+him.
+
+A fresh difficulty now presented itself. On the narrow ledge there was
+not sufficient room for the holders of the rope to brace themselves. To
+haul up the stout youth, therefore, it was necessary to return to the
+summit of the cliff. This was quickly done, but you may be sure that
+great caution was exercised in mounting the steps cut in the rock face.
+The fate of Tubby was fresh in their minds, even without the reminder
+that he was still clinging to his uncertain support, so far below them.
+
+Blinky began looking about for a suitable tree, around which to take a
+turn of the rope, as soon as they reached the summit. One was found
+about fifteen feet back from the lip of the precipice.
+
+"Now, then," ordered the cow-puncher, as he tied a big loop in one end
+of his long line, "we'll see if this will reach."
+
+He dropped it over the edge of the cliff and dangled it about so that it
+rattled against the rock. This was in order that the fat boy could hear
+it and indicate in which direction he wished it swung.
+
+"Is it near you, now, Tubby?" shouted Blinky, peering down into the
+darkness and tentatively swinging the rope.
+
+"A little more to the right," came up the stout boy's voice, as steady
+as if he was asking for another helping of ice cream.
+
+"That boy's grit clear through, even if he does like to play the giddy
+goat sometimes," muttered the puncher.
+
+"How's that?" he asked a minute later.
+
+"Wait, I'll reach out and grab it."
+
+"Don't you dare do any such thing!" almost yelled the cow-puncher. "You
+might lose your balance, and----"
+
+He stopped with a gasp. A jerk had come at the other end of the rope.
+Down there, out of sight, Tubby had hold of it. A succession of jerks
+told the holder of the rope on the cliff edge that he was making the
+loop fast about him.
+
+"All right!" finally hailed Tubby. Then in imitation of an elevator
+runner:
+
+"Go--ing up!"
+
+"Hold on a minute," croaked out Blinky, even his iron nerve a trifle
+shaken now that the crucial moment was near.
+
+He ran back to the tree and took a deft turn round the trunk. Then he
+extended the end of the rope to the boys and told them to "tail on."
+
+"What are you going to do?" asked Merritt.
+
+"I'm going to stand at the edge of the cliff and transmit orders from
+below. Mind you, obey them the instant you hear them."
+
+"All right. We will, Blinky," came in chorus.
+
+"Very well. Now hold on and when I tell you to start hauling, pull with
+all your might. That boy's a heavy load."
+
+"A hundred and forty pounds and still growing," volunteered Harry
+Harkness.
+
+"Well, that rope held a six-hundred-pound steer, so I guess it'll stand
+his weight. All I'm afraid of is a knot giving. I made them in the dark,
+you know."
+
+The cow-puncher, after giving a few more final instructions, ran to the
+cliff edge.
+
+"All right?" he shouted down.
+
+"All right!" rejoined Tubby.
+
+Blinky straightened up and turned back toward the boys, holding onto the
+rope.
+
+"Haul away, boys," he ordered.
+
+A cheer burst from the throats of the Boy Scouts as they tailed on the
+lifeline, and walked backward from the tree with it.
+
+"Whoa!" came a shout from below suddenly.
+
+"Whoa!" yelled Blinky, repeating the word.
+
+"What's the matter?" he hailed down, as the hoisting movement stopped.
+
+"Why, I'm bumping my delicate knees," came up in Tubby's voice.
+
+"Can't be helped," yelled down Blinky. Then hailing the hauling line:--
+
+"Pull away, boys."
+
+Steadily they pulled till the fat boy had been raised twenty feet or
+more from his tree. Suddenly he hailed Blinky.
+
+"Whoa!" roared the cow-puncher.
+
+Instantly the hoisting ceased.
+
+"Now, what is it, Tubby?"
+
+"I just thought of something."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Say, lots of folks would pay money to see this, wouldn't they?"
+
+"Never mind that now. Are you all right?"
+
+"Yes, except my knees."
+
+"Ha-ul a-way."
+
+The boys on the other end of the rope hauled steadily now, and the fat
+boy drew nearer and nearer to the ledge.
+
+As he rose higher, hanging suspended like a spider from the end of his
+gossamer thread between the sky and the ground, a sudden thought struck
+Blinky. It would be manifestly impossible to haul Tubby over the edge of
+the ledge which projected like the eaves of a roof. Hardly had the
+thought flashed across his mind before a shout of alarm came from the
+boys, simultaneously with a sharp:
+
+Crack!
+
+"The rope!" came a wild yell from the tree.
+
+"It's broken!"
+
+Blinky went white, and his knees shook. At the same instant the rope
+began to snake hissingly over the edge of the precipice. It had parted.
+Tubby was once more dropping downward like a stone.
+
+"Catch it!" roared Blinky, regardless of his own peril, throwing himself
+onto the fast-retreating rawhide. He gripped it, but was carried like a
+feather before the wind toward the edge of the cliff by the descending
+Tubby's weight. In another moment--for he obstinately refused to let
+go--he would have been over the edge, when the line suddenly tightened.
+
+"Hooray! I've got it."
+
+The shout came in Merritt's voice.
+
+The boy, with great presence of mind, had managed to catch the rope, and
+secure it before its end whipped round the trunk of the tree. As the
+knot which had parted was in the section of the rawhide above the tree,
+this was possible. Had the rope broken between the tree and the cliff
+both Tubby and Blinky would have been dashed to death.
+
+"What parted?" roared Blinky, as soon as he had recovered his senses.
+
+"One of the knots. It slipped. It's all right, now we've fixed it!"
+hailed Merritt back.
+
+"Merritt, you're all right," shouted the cow-puncher, "if it hadn't been
+for you, I'd have been down among the cattle now. I'd have traveled by
+lightening express, too."
+
+As it was dark, the boys had not been able to see what the cow-puncher
+had done, so it was not till long afterward that they found out the
+meaning of his remark and learned of his courageous action.
+
+The cow-puncher feared that the sudden drop and the danger of the rope
+breaking again under the renewed strain might have frightened Tubby into
+a swoon. To his intense joy, however, in reply to his hail there came up
+a cheerful:
+
+"Say, what are you fellows doing? Having a game up there? You almost
+jolted the daylights out of me."
+
+"All right, we'll be more careful in future, Tubby," breathed the
+puncher, not daring to tell the boy what had actually happened.
+
+"Are you near the ledge, Tubby?" hailed the puncher suddenly, after an
+interval of hauling.
+
+"Yes, I think so. I can see a dark thing like a shelf right above me."
+
+"Stop!" shouted the cow-puncher to the rope handlers.
+
+The most difficult part of the enterprise was yet to come. They had to
+get the boy up on the ledge. To accomplish this at first was a poser,
+but Blinky finally solved it. Enjoining the rope handlers not to make a
+move till he hailed them, he slipped down the stone steps and reached
+the ledge. Arrived there, he peered over into the black void under his
+feet. Swinging a short distance below, he could distinguish a blacker
+object than the surrounding night. He could also make out a sound of
+humming. It was Tubby crooning to himself as he swung on the end of the
+frail rope:
+
+    "See-saw! see-saw!
+    On a s-um-mers day!"
+
+"Well, I'll be extra special, double-jiggered!" breathed the puncher, as
+he heard.
+
+He knelt on the edge of the ledge and spoke to the vocalist.
+
+"How's your nerve, Tubby?"
+
+"Fine, but it needs feeding," was the cheerful response.
+
+"All right, you'll do," rejoined the cow-puncher. "Now, then, Tubby, I
+want you to hang to the edge of this ledge by your finger tips for just
+two minutes. Think you can do it?"
+
+"I'll have to, won't I?" innocently inquired the stout youth.
+
+"Yes, or----"
+
+"Take a tumble," Tubby finished for him.
+
+"Never mind about that," spoke Blinky sharply. Then cupping his hands to
+his mouth, he shouted upward:
+
+"Haul away! Slow, now!"
+
+He placed his fingers on the taut rope and felt it slip upward through
+them.
+
+"Good old ropes," he murmured; "stretched like a fiddle string and sound
+as a ship's cable."
+
+Presently Tubby was hauled up level with the ledge.
+
+"Stop!" roared Blinky.
+
+He could have reached over in the darkness, and, catching the stout
+boy's hands, have hauled him up beside him--he could have, that is if
+Tubby had been able to assist him by digging his feet into the rock
+face. But this he could not do, as he was dangling from the lip of the
+ledge, fully three feet out from the face of the precipice, and with
+four hundred feet of empty space under the soles of his shoes. Moreover,
+in such case the cow-puncher would have nothing to brace himself with,
+and there would have been grave danger of his being dragged over by the
+other's suspended weight. Instead, therefore--necessity being the mother
+of invention--he had thought up a daring plan. What this was we shall
+soon see.
+
+"Can you grip the edge with your fingers, Tubby?" whispered the
+cow-puncher.
+
+"Yes," rejoined Tubby, reaching up.
+
+"All right, then, grab it--and in Heaven's name, hold on!"
+
+With a single swift stroke of his knife, the cow-puncher slashed the
+rope, leaving Tubby with the loop draped uselessly under his shoulders.
+The fat boy's hold on the edge of the ledge was all that now lay between
+him and eternity.
+
+Blinky's breath came sharp and hard as he rapidly adjusted the rope
+around himself just under the shoulders. Then leaning forward, he seized
+the stout boy's wrists in his steel-muscled grip.
+
+"Haul!" he bellowed.
+
+The line tautened just as the cow-puncher braced his muscles.
+
+"Stop!"
+
+The line became motionless, holding the cow-puncher firmly on the ledge,
+while his hands gripped Tubby's wrists.
+
+"Now," breathed Blinky to himself, bracing every muscle till they
+seemed to crack. The sweat rolled down his face, and his features became
+contorted. Tubby was a heavier load than he had bargained for. But pluck
+and grit won out, and after a few seconds of this Titanic struggle the
+stout boy stood safe on the ledge beside his rescuer.
+
+"Got him!" muttered Blinky triumphantly. But even as he spoke he almost
+lost the rescued boy. All at once Tubby became as limp as a half-emptied
+sack of grain, and seemed about to slide backward out of the
+cow-puncher's arms.
+
+"Hey, hold on, there! What's the matter?" roared Blinky in amazement,
+dragging him back.
+
+"Gone out, by the great horn spoon!" he exclaimed, as the rescued boy
+sank heavily in a dead swoon on the ledge beside his rescuer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+A FRIEND IN NEED.
+
+
+"Hum!" said Rob to himself, with an accent of deep conviction.
+"Evidently these chaps keep a closer watch on their prisoner than I had
+imagined. I guess I'd better retire to my boudoir again."
+
+The Indian sentinel lowered his rifle as the boy turned, and eyed him
+stoically without any more expression on his stolid features than would
+have shown on the features of a mask.
+
+"All right," Rob said to him, nodding cheerfully. "Don't worry about me,
+old chap. I'm going to bed."
+
+If the Indian understood, he made no sign. Instead, he wheeled and
+solemnly followed the boy back to the tepee. Rob entered it and lay
+down. Presently, to his delight, some blankets were thrown in to him.
+
+"Well, if I can't eat I can sleep, anyhow," he said philosophically, and
+in a few minutes he was curled up in the coverings and off as soundly as
+if he was slumbering in a cot at the ranch house.
+
+It was dawn when Rob awoke, as he speedily became aware when the tent
+flap was thrown open, and he saw facing him a rather pretty young Indian
+girl who bore in her hand an earthenware dish.
+
+"Hullo!" said Rob, sitting up in his blankets.
+
+"Hullo," rejoined the girl in a more friendly tone than Rob had yet
+heard in the Indian camp.
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"My name Susyjan," was the response, as the girl set down the steaming
+dish, in which, as a concession to Rob, an earthenware spoon had been
+placed.
+
+"All right, Susyjan," smiled Rob. "If you don't mind, I'm going to eat."
+
+"All right, you go ahead," acquiesced Susyjan, who, as Rob guessed, had
+been named after some white Susy Jane.
+
+"You talk pretty good English, Susyjan," remarked Rob, between
+mouthfuls of the contents of the dish, which had some sort of stew in
+it.
+
+"Um! Me with Wild West show one time."
+
+"Is that so?" asked Rob, interested. "So you've been East?"
+
+"Um! New York, Chicago, Bosstown, every place."
+
+"Maybe I've seen you in the show some place?"
+
+"Maybe."
+
+"What did you like best in the East, Susyjan?" asked Rob, after a brief
+silence.
+
+"Beads," rejoined Susyjan, without an instant's hesitation.
+
+"Beans?" inquired Rob, puzzled. "Oh, in Boston, you mean?"
+
+"No beans--beads," pouted the young squaw. "Ladies' beads. Round
+neck--savee?"
+
+Rob nodded.
+
+"Oh, yes, I savee, Susyjan. So you like beads, eh?"
+
+"Plenty much," rejoined Susyjan, nodding her smooth black head
+vigorously and showing her white, even teeth in two smiling rows.
+
+A bold idea came into Rob's head. Perhaps out of this young squaw's
+vanity he might contrive a means to escape. But he would have to go to
+work gradually, or she might betray him, and that would result, as he
+knew, in closer captivity than ever for himself.
+
+"What have they got me here for, Susyjan,--you know?" he asked.
+
+"Um-hum. Big Chief Spotted Snake him say bimeby get plenty much money
+for you. Have big dance."
+
+"Oh, that's the game, is it?" mused Rob. "Holding me for ransom. In that
+case, then, no wonder they are guarding me closely."
+
+"Say, Susyjan," broke out Rob presently, "how you like to have lots of
+beads--fine ones, like white ladies wear?"
+
+The Indian girl clapped her hands, which to any one familiar with these
+unemotional people indicated that she was hugely excited over the idea.
+Presently her face clouded over, however.
+
+"How can?" she asked.
+
+"Me give um you."
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes. I'll give you the finest set of beads ever strung together, but
+you have got to do something for me."
+
+"What that?"
+
+"Bring a pony round to the back of the tent to-night."
+
+The girl shook her head positively. But Rob saw that mingled with her
+refusal was an admixture of keen regrets for the loss of the promised
+beads. She knitted her brow in deep thought for a few seconds, and then
+sprang up, radiant once more.
+
+"All right, white boy. Me get you pony. Charley One-Eyed Horse him very
+sick. I get you his pony."
+
+"All right, then, that's settled," said Rob cheerfully. "But how about
+you? Won't you get into trouble over it? I don't want that, you know."
+
+"Oh, no," laughed the girl. "Charley One-Eyed Horse my uncle. Him very
+old man. Pony very old, too--plenty mean. I break rope. Braves think
+pony bust 'em and get away."
+
+Although the ethics of this didn't seem just straight to Rob, he was in
+no position to be very particular. More especially as the girl went on
+to tell him that the tribe expected to move on the next day, making for
+the valley in which the great snake dance was to be held. In the event
+of his being carried with them, Rob knew that his chances of escape
+would be problematical. If he was to make the attempt, he would have to
+carry it out as soon as possible.
+
+How the rest of that day passed, the boy could never tell. The feigning
+of sleepy indifference to things about him cost him the hardest effort
+he had ever known. The hours seemed to drag by. It appeared as if night
+would never come.
+
+Susyjan did not come near him again that day, and although he saw her
+moving about the camp at various times, she gave no sign of recognition.
+Once a dreadful thought flashed across Rob's mind. What if the girl had
+been used as a spy, and had betrayed his secret. This put him into a
+fever, but he was, of course, powerless to resolve his doubts. Suspense
+was all that was left for him.
+
+As evening closed in, the agony of waiting grew worse.
+
+"Those fellows must have made up their minds to keep awake all night,"
+thought Rob, as hour after hour went by, and the Indians still sat,
+blanket-shrouded, by their fire, playing some sort of game with flat
+slabs of stone. Finally, however, even the most persistent players
+ceased and went to their tepees.
+
+By the dying fire there now stood only two figures, tall, motionless and
+apparently wooden. But Rob knew that they were sentinels posted to watch
+the tepee in which he was confined. He knew, also, that even though they
+did seem unconscious of everything, their little black eyes were alert
+and awake to the slightest move on his part.
+
+"I guess I'll have to give it up for to-night," thought Rob, casting
+himself down on his blankets. He felt more despondent than he had at any
+time since his capture. The camp was now as silent as a country
+graveyard. In the intense stillness he could even hear the occasional
+crackle of an ember falling to ashes.
+
+Suddenly the boy started, and gazed, open-eyed, at the back curtain of
+his tepee.
+
+Surely the flap had moved.
+
+After a few seconds' gazing there was no doubt of it. The flap slowly
+rose, and presently Susyjan's flat-nosed countenance peered into the
+gloom of the shelter.
+
+"Come, white boy," she whispered. "Me got pony."
+
+"Blessings on your black, clayed head!" breathed Rob under his breath.
+
+Silently as a stalking cat, he moved toward the back of the tent. In
+another moment he was out of it and under the starry canopy of the sky.
+
+"Come," whispered the young squaw, gliding like a snake into the dark
+fringe of forest behind the tepee. Rob followed as quietly as he could,
+but alas! he was not as expert as the girl. His foot struck a twig which
+snapped with a loud "crack!" under his tread.
+
+Instantly the motionless Indians by the fire galvanized into life. They
+looked about them in a startled way, and for one dreadful moment Rob,
+crouching in the shadow and hardly daring to breathe, thought that they
+were about to examine his tepee. To his intense relief, however, they
+contented themselves with gazing about them, and seeing nothing unusual,
+resumed their statue-like vigil.
+
+"White boy like lame cow. Plenty tumble," snickered Susyjan, while Rob's
+cheeks burned wrathfully. He took greater care from that time on, and
+managed to follow the noiselessly gliding girl without causing another
+alarm, while she led him in a circuitous route round the back of the
+encampment.
+
+Suddenly they came to a hillside covered with wild oats, on which
+several dark objects that the boy made out to be ponies were hobbled.
+Deftly seizing one by the nose, the girl forced a rope "hackamore" she
+had brought with her into its mouth, and cast off its hobbles.
+
+Rob, with one hand on the little animal's rump, and the other on its
+withers, vaulted to the pony's back in a second.
+
+"Which way I go?" he whispered.
+
+"Over there," rejoined the girl, pointing to the eastward. "Bymby find
+trail."
+
+"All right, Susyjan; you're a brick," whispered Rob, "and I won't forget
+the beads."
+
+"Real ones, like white lady," insisted Susyjan.
+
+"Sure, and the whitest of them isn't any whiter than you," Rob assured
+her, as he dug his heels into the pony's bony sides and the little
+animal plunged forward. As he did so, Susyjan wheeled and vanished. It
+was important for her to be in bed in her tepee in case the alarm was
+given.
+
+"Slow and steady's the word, I guess, along here," mused Rob, as the
+pony picked his way among rough rock and stubbly brush. "If this little
+animal doesn't stumble and wake the whole camp, I'm in luck. Anyhow,
+Susyjan won't get in trouble over it now. That's one thing, and----"
+
+Crash!
+
+The little pony had done just what Rob dreaded. Nimble as it was, a
+loose rock had proved its undoing, and it had come down on its knees
+with a crash. Instantly it scrambled up again, but as it did so a series
+of demoniacal yells rang out behind the boy.
+
+The alarm had been given.
+
+Suddenly there was added to the general confusion the sound of confused
+shooting.
+
+Bang! Bang!
+
+"Waking up the camp," muttered Rob, swinging the end of his rope
+hackamore and bringing it down over the pony's flanks with a resounding
+"thwack." "Now get a move on, Uncle One-Eyed Horse's pony, for if ever
+you carried a fellow in need, you've got one on your back to-night."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER.
+
+
+Pluckily forward plunged the pony, as if anxious to redeem his untimely
+stumble.
+
+"It'll take them some time to get to their ponies and unhobble them,"
+thought Rob. "If I've luck, I may get away yet."
+
+Keeping steadily to the direction the girl had pointed out, the boy
+pressed on at as fast a clip as he dared. The farther he rode ahead of
+the pursuing tribe, the better chance he stood of getting beyond their
+earshot.
+
+It was risky riding, though, through an unknown country on such a dark
+night. What sort of going it was under foot, Rob could only tell by the
+uncertain gait of the beast he bestrode. Bushes occasionally brushed in
+his face, scratching it, and once in a while an extra strong bunch of
+chaparral would press against his legs, almost brushing him from his
+pony's back.
+
+Suddenly the way took a steep downward pitch.
+
+"I hope this isn't another precipice," thought the boy, as the pony
+half-slid, half-clambered down in the darkness. Presently his hoofs
+splashed in water, and Rob knew they were crossing a creek. He drew back
+on his single rein and listened intently. Fortunately the wind, what
+there was of it, set toward him.
+
+Borne on it he could hear distant shouts and cries. To his intense
+satisfaction, it seemed to him that they were farther off than when he
+had first heard them.
+
+"Gained on them!" muttered Rob triumphantly. "Now, if daylight would
+only come along----"
+
+But it was long to wait till daylight, and in the meantime Rob did not
+dare remain where he was. The Indians probably knew the mountains like a
+book, and would work them on a system. In such an event his only
+salvation lay in keeping moving. All at once he stopped, with a sudden
+heart leap, as his pony scrambled up the farther bank of the creek.
+
+A shrill cry sounded close behind him.
+
+Could it be possible that the advance guard of the Indians had
+approached him so nearly?
+
+The next instant Rob gave a laugh of relief. The shrill cry came again.
+
+"Whoo-to-too, who-o-o!"
+
+"Only an owl," exclaimed the boy. "Hullo, though, that's funny! There's
+another answering it--and by George! there's another!"
+
+From the woods to the right and left had come similar hoots to the
+owl-like sound he had noted behind him. At the same instant, the
+unmistakable sound of a dislodged stone bounding and rattling down the
+steep incline he had just descended was borne to his ears.
+
+"That's no owl," gasped Rob, "it's Indians!"
+
+As he realized how badly he had been fooled, his pony topped the rise.
+To any one below in the hollow, the outline of the pony and the boy
+showed blackly against the stars. Suddenly a sound like an angry bee in
+full flight hummed close to Rob's ear, and the next moment there came a
+sharp report behind him.
+
+Instantaneously the hoots to the right and left flanks redoubled, and
+began closing in. All at once one of the birdlike cries sounded right in
+front of the escaping white boy.
+
+He was hemmed in by Indians!
+
+The craft of the red men had proven too much for Rob. Even the darkness
+had not prevented their unerringly tracking him. By their skillful
+woodcraft and keenness of perception they had succeeded in discovering
+him and surrounding him.
+
+For an instant Rob's heart stood still. Then, as a second shot whizzed
+by his ear, aimed by the unseen marksman below, he urged his pony on
+over the rise.
+
+The advance, however, over the rocky ground sounded as loud as the
+approach of a squadron of cavalry. Wild cries and yells rang out on
+every side of the boy. What was he to do?
+
+One of those inspirations born in moments of keen stress came to him in
+his extremity. If all went well, he would fool the Indians yet, hard as
+they were to deceive.
+
+Slipping noiselessly from his pony as he rode under a dark clump of
+pinon trees, the boy turned it loose. The little animal, to his
+surprise, immediately turned backward, heading round toward the camp.
+But this turn of events, at first alarming, ultimately proved to be the
+very best thing that could have happened for Rob, who had at first hoped
+that the pony would trot forward.
+
+The Indians, hearing its rapid footsteps galloping back, reasoned that
+Rob, realizing that he was headed off, had turned his mount in a
+desperate effort to escape that way. Yelling like demons, and
+discharging their rifles in an almost continuous fusillade, the Indians
+wheeled and rode after the retreating pony. Naturally, the more they
+shouted and fired, the faster the little animal ran, and every step took
+them farther from Rob, who was crouching under his pinon trees.
+
+Not till they got back to their camp did the redskins discover that the
+white boy had served craft with strategy, and outwitted them. It was
+then too late to follow up the pursuit that night. The redskins knew
+that any one cunning enough to have devised such a trick would not have
+stood still while they were chasing a will-o'-the-wisp in the opposite
+direction to their desired quarry.
+
+And they were right in this assumption. Rob, as soon as the beat of
+their ponies' hoofs had grown faint, had chuckled to himself at their
+mistake, and silently as possible resumed his journey. If it had been a
+hard ride, it was a doubly hard tramp he had before him.
+
+Susyjan had told him that a trail lay not so very far ahead. In the
+darkness it was possible that he might have lost it. If he had, without
+food or water, he would soon be in a serious position. But Rob,
+nevertheless, determined that his best course lay in pushing on, and
+through the darkness he steadily and pluckily advanced.
+
+Presently he began to ascend what he knew must be a hill or
+mountainside. This complicated the problem. To go on along level ground
+was one thing, but to attempt to continue his way over an acclivity as
+steep as the one that faced him seemed foolhardy. Every step he took
+might be leading him farther and farther astray.
+
+"Oh, for a nice soft bed!" muttered Rob. "But not having one, a good
+flat stone would do."
+
+Soon afterward, following a lot of feeling about, he managed to find a
+flat-surfaced rock which seemed to promise well for a rough and ready
+couch. To the boy's delight, it retained some of the warmth of the sun
+which had beaten on it all day, and had he possessed a blanket to throw
+over it, might not have proved unacceptable as a sleeping place.
+
+Casting himself down on it, Rob soon dozed off, nor did he awaken till
+the blackness turned to the gray that preceded the dawn. Viewed by
+daylight, Rob found his surroundings such that he was glad that he had
+not proceeded any farther during the night. He lay on a hillside behind
+a screen of chaparral. But what caused him to feel some apprehension,
+when he thought of what might have happened had he continued his
+journey, was the fact that below his rock quite a steep slope dropped
+down to the valley below. It was a drop of some thirty feet, and while
+in the daylight any active man or boy could have clambered down it
+without injury, in the dark night it might have meant broken bones.
+
+But Rob had little time to think of such possibilities. Something else
+suddenly occupied all his attention, and that something was an odor of
+frying bacon!
+
+Mingled with it came the unmistakable aroma of tobacco. Somebody was
+camped near him, that was a certainty. His first impulse was to shout,
+but he checked it. It speaks volumes for the Western training that the
+boy was rapidly acquiring when it is said that before he showed himself
+from behind his chaparral, he gazed cautiously through that leafy
+screen.
+
+Below him he saw three figures seated about a fire, over which was
+frying the bacon that had aroused his hunger almost to the exclamation
+point. The three campers, whose ponies were tethered a short distance
+from them, had their backs turned to Rob, but presently one of them
+turned to reach something from a saddle bag. Rob came very near to
+uttering a startled exclamation and betraying his hiding place as he saw
+the man's features.
+
+It was Hank Handcraft.
+
+The former beachcomber wore Western clothes and had trimmed his once
+luxuriant and scraggly beard, but he was none the less unmistakably
+Handcraft. Nor, as almost simultaneously Hank's companions turned, was
+Rob's astonishment at all lessened, for one of them was Bill Bender and
+the other was the ranch boy to whom he had given a lesson in jiu
+jitsu--Clark Jennings.
+
+"Hurry up and stow your grub, Hank," Clark was saying. "We've got to
+light out of this neighborhood for a while and stick around the ranch."
+
+"You think that old Harkness is suspicious, then?" inquired Hank.
+
+"No, our disguises were too good. I'll bet they're cussin' the Moquis
+now."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Bill Bender. "That was a great idea, dressing up
+like Indians. I guess we got even on old Harkness for driving those
+sheep off his pastures."
+
+"You bet! and we'll do worse to him before we get through," grunted
+Clark. "It's pie for me. More especially as I can get even, at the same
+time, with that young sniffler, Harry Harkness, and his friends from the
+East--your old pals, Bill."
+
+"No pals of mine. You can bet your life on that," grunted Bill. "The
+best thing I'd heard for a long time was when you told me about Jack
+Curtiss shoving that kid Rob into the river. I'd like to have seen it.
+If it hadn't been for those Boy Scouts, as they call themselves, Hank
+and Jack and I would have been East now, instead of in this God-forsaken
+country."
+
+"What are you kicking at?" laughed Clark. "You've done pretty well since
+you've been here, and if we can get that bunch of mavericks of
+Harkness's, we'll all have a pocketful of money."
+
+"When are you going after them?" asked Hank, placing a big bit of bacon
+on a hunk of bread and gnawing on it in a satisfied way that set Rob
+half crazy to watch.
+
+"Soon as they are turned out on the Far Pasture. When they get over the
+scare of the stampede, they'll leave the place unwatched, and we'll have
+our chance. We ought to get five hundred apiece out of it, anyhow."
+
+"That would look good to me," grunted Hank.
+
+"Oh, the scoundrels!" breathed Rob to himself. "They're plotting to
+steal some of Mr. Harkness's mavericks. I remember now hearing him speak
+of turning them out in the Far Pasture."
+
+"Then we can clear out and get back East," concluded Bill, "and take
+poor old Jack with us. He isn't making out very well."
+
+"Sort of hanger-on in that gambling place, isn't he?" asked Clark.
+
+"I guess that's what you'd call it."
+
+Soon after the group saddled up their ponies and prepared to leave their
+temporary camp. That they were on the trail, after having concluded
+their dastardly attempt to stampede Mr. Harkness's cattle, Rob had no
+doubt, judging by their conversation.
+
+"Better put that fire out!" warned Clark. "Scatter the ashes. We don't
+want any one trailing us."
+
+The three worthies bent together over the ashes, while their saddled
+ponies stood eying them at some short distance.
+
+"Guess I'd better pull back out of this before they take it into their
+heads to look around," thought Rob, who in his eagerness to hear what
+was going forward below had thrust his head out through the bush which
+screened him.
+
+With the object of drawing back again, he braced himself on one hand and
+pushed backward. How it happened he never knew, for he had been very
+careful, but suddenly the small rock on which the pressure of his hand
+rested gave way with a crash.
+
+Clawing wildly at the bush, Rob sought to save himself from being flung
+headlong down the hill into the camp below him, but it was too late.
+
+Down the hill he shot at lightning speed, in the midst of a roaring,
+rattling landslide of rocks and earth.
+
+The men in the camp started and turned as the sudden uproar of Rob's
+involuntary toboggan slide reached their ears.
+
+"What the----" shouted Hank Handcraft.
+
+"Who is----" began Clark, when Rob's feet caught him in the stomach and
+cannoned him against Hank Handcraft. Clutching wildly to prevent his own
+fall, Hank caught Bill Bender's sleeve, and the next instant all three
+of the campers were rolling in a confused mass in the ashes of their
+fire.
+
+"It's a bear!" yelled Hank.
+
+"Bear nothing!" bellowed Clark Jennings, as Rob scrambled to his feet
+and darted off like a shot. "It's a boy!"
+
+"After him!" shouted Bill Bender, snatching up a rifle and aiming it.
+"That kid's Rob Blake."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT?
+
+
+But even as the former Long Islander raised the weapon to his shoulder,
+it was dashed down by Clark Jennings.
+
+"Look out, you idiot!" he bellowed. "Do you want to kill the ponies?"
+
+Rob, the instant he had recovered his self-possession, which preceded
+the recovery of the surprised plotters by some seconds, had made a dash
+for the ponies, which, as has been said, stood, saddled and bridled,
+near at hand.
+
+"Yip-yip!" he screeched, as he leaped onto the back of the first one he
+reached.
+
+Excited by the shouts and cries of the three amazed campers, and
+half-crazed by Rob's sudden leap onto its back, the animal plunged
+forward and vanished in a flash into the dark woods which veiled an
+abrupt turn in the trail.
+
+"Now, shall we shoot, Clark?" urged Bill Bender.
+
+"No, no; waste no time doing that. Hank, you stay here and look after
+things. Come, Bill--quick--the ponies!"
+
+In a second Bill and Clark were mounted and dashing off down the trail
+in a cloud of dust, in hot pursuit of the lad.
+
+"Do you think he heard what we were talking about?"
+
+Clark Jennings propounded the question as they clattered down the trail.
+Not far in front they could hear the rapid hoof beats of Rob's mount.
+
+"Don't know. The minute he came sky-hooting into the camp I'd a notion
+it was some one I've seen afore some place," rejoined Bill vaguely.
+
+"Yes, yes; but do you think he overheard?"
+
+"Dunno. We weren't expecting company, and therefore didn't lower our
+voices. Say, Clark, what if--what if he did hear?"
+
+"Then Harkness will find out everything."
+
+"Yes, if----"
+
+"Well, if what?"
+
+"If we don't bring him down. If we should kill him, we could easy blame
+it on the Indians. In fact, I guess the ranch folks would conclude the
+redskins did it, anyhow."
+
+Clark's ruddy face grew pale at Bill's sinister suggestion.
+
+"If he overheard, he knows enough to send us all to jail," prompted
+Bill.
+
+"That's right, too. Do you think you could----"
+
+Clark hesitated, as if the thought his mind held was too dreadful for
+him to voice.
+
+"Bring him down, you mean?" inquired Bill cheerfully. "Don't know. We're
+hitting up a hot pace for good shooting."
+
+"Say, Bill, I think you are the most cold-blooded fellow I ever met."
+
+"Oh, I'm cool, all right, in such a case as this," rejoined Bill.
+"Hark!"
+
+Both drew rein for a second and listened. The beat of hoofs in front of
+them suddenly slackened. So near was the sound that it seemed as if it
+could not have been more than a few feet ahead.
+
+"Right through that brush there!" whispered Clark, and hot as the day
+was, he shivered as if stricken with a sudden fever.
+
+Bill Bender coolly raised his rifle. He deliberately aimed it into the
+leafy screen. The next instant its deafening report rang out. It was
+followed by a loud crash from beyond the bushes, as if some heavy body
+had fallen.
+
+Clark fairly turned his pony round. He was too much of a coward even to
+dare to ask the question that forced itself to his lips. No such qualms
+assailed Bill Bender, however. He pressed spurs to his pony, and in a
+second flashed round the trees that hid what lay on the trail beyond. A
+second later a loud cry of astonishment broke from his lips. It was
+mingled with curses.
+
+"What's the matter?" hailed Clark tremblingly.
+
+"Come here."
+
+"Oh, Bill, I don't want to. I----"
+
+"Come here, I say. There's nothing to be afraid of."
+
+Thus urged, Clark, whose cheeks were still ashen under the bronze, urged
+his pony forward, and presently joined Bill. The latter had dismounted,
+and was standing over a dark, still object in the road.
+
+It was the pony Rob had borrowed so hurriedly.
+
+It lay stone dead, pierced in a vital spot by Bill Bender's bullet.
+
+"But the b-b-boy, is he----" stuttered Clark.
+
+"He's gone!" exclaimed Bill.
+
+"Gone?" echoed Clark in an amazed tone.
+
+"Yes, clean wiped out."
+
+"But how?"
+
+"Ask me an easy one."
+
+"Hasn't he left a trail?"
+
+"No, that's what makes it so queer. He must have had an aeroplane."
+
+For half an hour or more both youths searched the dusty trail and beat
+in and out of the dense brush, but not a trace of the missing boy
+rewarded their close scrutiny of the surroundings. Had the earth opened
+at that spot and swallowed Rob up bodily, he could not have vanished
+more utterly. The only trace of the missing boy was his sombrero, lying
+by the dead pony.
+
+Absolutely dumfounded with amazement, the two worthies finally gave up
+their search, and taking the saddle and bridle off the dead pony, made
+their way back to their camp, carrying Rob's broad-brimmed hat.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At about the same hour that Clark and Bill were searching among the
+pinon and scrub growth for some solution of the mystery of Rob's
+inexplicable disappearance, an equally perplexed party was assembled on
+a small rise some miles away. The latter group consisted of Mr.
+Harkness, his son, the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Corporal Merritt
+Crawford and Tubby Hopkins, Blinky and two other cow-punchers.
+
+The day before, following the rescued Tubby's return to the ranch with
+his companions, the expedition to find the missing Rob had been
+hurriedly formed. The cliff face had been reached in quicker time than
+would have seemed possible, and an examination by the cow-punchers and
+the Boy Scouts soon showed which way Rob had been carried off.
+
+The broken shrub at the entrance to the tunnel, with the end pointing
+into the darkness, indicated clearly enough to Merritt that Rob had made
+a Boy Scout sign that his trail lay that way.
+
+Leaving their ponies in charge of one of the cow-punchers who had
+accompanied them that far, the party had proceeded through the tunnel on
+foot. They were led by Blinky, who was almost as expert a trailer as an
+Indian, and had at the present moment arrived near the site of the
+Indian camp from which Rob had escaped the night before. Had the boy
+only known it, on his wild flight he had passed within a few miles of
+those who were searching for him in the darkness.
+
+With the earliest light they had picked up the trail once more, and now
+they had reached its termination, the camp of the Moquis. But to reward
+their activity and perseverance they found only black ashes and
+scattered traces of cooking and stabling. Of the camp itself, all trace
+had vanished.
+
+Blinky bent over the ashes and stirred them with his fingers.
+
+"Been gone some hours," he announced, after an examination. "The ashes
+are plumb cold."
+
+"How far do you think they will have proceeded by this time?" inquired
+Mr. Harkness.
+
+"Maybe twenty miles or more," rejoined the cow-puncher. "It's hard to
+tell. These redskins travel fast, boss, as you know."
+
+"Yes, I do know," rejoined the rancher bitterly; "especially when they
+have a good reason to. But what do you suppose they carried off the poor
+boy for?"
+
+"Maybe they figgered he was a spy from the Indian territory, and maybe
+they thought they could get a good price for him if they held him long
+enough."
+
+"I guess you are right, Blinky," said the rancher sadly, sitting down
+upon an outcropping rock.
+
+He flicked his riding boots meditatively for some seconds with his
+rawhide quirt, which he still carried, and then spoke.
+
+"Boys," he said, addressing the little party, "those Moquis have carried
+off Rob. There's no doubt of that. The question now is, shall we follow
+them up, or shall we go back and get the ponies, and thus lose valuable
+time? I think it only fair to tell you that I am for going forward."
+
+"I guess there's no need to take a vote, Mr. Harkness," smiled Merritt,
+gazing at the determined faces of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol.
+Every member of the body was there. Harry and the telephone had seen to
+that as soon as they had made certain that Rob had been carried off.
+
+"We've got enough to eat with us," put in Tubby, "so there's no reason
+why we shouldn't go ahead."
+
+As Tubby said, the party had brought rations with them which, though
+not very plentiful, were enough to last until they struck a further food
+supply.
+
+"Then forward it is," said Mr. Harkness.
+
+"Ye-ow!" yelled the cow-punchers.
+
+The boys joined in their wild shouts, but their enthusiastic start was
+suddenly thrown into silence by an unexpected incident. Hoof beats
+sounded on the trail, and as everybody turned expectantly in the
+direction from whence the sound had proceeded, they were astonished to
+see two ponies emerge, carrying three men.
+
+The new arrivals were Clark Jennings and Bill Bender, and, seated behind
+the latter, Hank Handcraft. The faces of all three took on a guilty,
+confused air as they perceived that, instead of riding, as they had
+expected, into a camp of Moquis, they had unexpectedly encountered the
+last persons whom at that particular moment they wanted to meet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO.
+
+
+If astonishment and uneasiness were depicted on the countenances of
+Clark Jennings and his companions, equally amazed looks were cast upon
+the newcomers by Mr. Harkness's party. The rancher was the first to
+recover his voice.
+
+"Well, Clark," he said rather sternly, "what are you doing here?"
+
+"We're not stealing sheepmen's land and feed from them, Mr. Harkness,"
+spoke up Clark boldly, as soon as he saw by the rancher's manner that
+the party was not, as he had at first feared, aware of Rob's strange
+fate.
+
+"We won't discuss that old question now, Clark," said Mr. Harkness
+leniently. "As long as there are sheepmen and cattlemen that question
+will always be productive of strife, more's the pity. Besides, certain
+fence-cutting incidents----"
+
+"You can't say I cut your fences!" sputtered Clark angrily.
+
+"Certainly not. I never dreamed of doing such a thing--without the
+proper evidence."
+
+The rancher threw a grim emphasis into these last words.
+
+"What we want from you now, Clark, is information."
+
+"Well?" asked the other in sullen tone.
+
+"We have lost track of a young man who was my guest at the ranch,"
+explained Mr. Harkness, his dislike of being compelled to ask
+information of Clark Jennings showing in his face. "His name is Rob
+Blake----"
+
+"Those two fellows know him well enough," broke out Merritt, pointing at
+Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft. The faces of those two worthies grew
+green as the boy pointed accusingly at them. Unwittingly Merritt had
+come near hitting the nail on the head when he connected them in a
+vague way with Rob's disappearance.
+
+"Well, what if we do know him?" growled Hank sullenly.
+
+"Mr. Harkness knows the mean tricks you put up on us in the East, so you
+needn't try to pretend you never met us before," went on Merritt
+angrily.
+
+"Come, come, Merritt," interrupted Mr. Harkness, "this will do no good.
+Whatever happened in the East is past and gone. What we want to know now
+is if they have seen Rob?"
+
+"No, we ain't," declared Clark boldly. "Why, do you think he's lost
+hereabouts?"
+
+"That's what we are afraid of. The Indians carried him off, and here, as
+you see, they were camped last night. I cherished a hope that he might
+have had the good fortune to escape."
+
+"I don't know anything about it," rejoined Clark in a more amiable tone,
+now that he saw that no suspicion attached to him.
+
+"What yer ridin' two on one pony for?" asked Blinky suddenly.
+
+"None of your business," rejoined Clark. "I guess we can ride the way we
+like."
+
+"Well, I guess so," echoed Hank. "Fine way they interfere with
+gentlemen's preferences out here in the West."
+
+"You had three ponies when you started out," pursued Blinky, looking at
+the spurs on Hank's feet, and noting the extra saddle which Clark
+carried behind him.
+
+"We did not."
+
+"What yer got the extra saddle for, then, and what's he got on spurs
+for, just ter decorate his handsome figure?"
+
+"Well, I can if I want to, can't I?" demanded Hank.
+
+"We're looking for a stray pony," explained Clark glibly. "That's why
+we're carrying the saddle--to put on him when we find him. That, too,
+accounts for the spurs. Anything else you'd like to know?"
+
+"Yes," demanded Merritt, his eyes blazing and his voice shaking with
+excitement as he stepped forward. "_Where did you get Rob Blake's
+sombrero?_"
+
+His eye had fallen on that article of headgear just as Hank had clumsily
+tried to conceal it. Merritt instantly recognized it by the stamped band
+about its crown.
+
+"Why, I--we--that is--it's my hat," lied Hank clumsily.
+
+"That's not true, and you know it!" shouted Merritt, carried away by
+rage. "You know where Rob Blake is. You----"
+
+Crack!
+
+The boy staggered back, half-blinded, as Bill Bender raised his heavy
+quirt and cut him full across the face with it.
+
+"Come on, boys!" shouted Clark, as Merritt reeled backward. "Let's get
+out of this."
+
+The two ponies sprang forward, leaving the ranch party half-stunned by
+the suddenness of Bill's brutal blow. But it was only for a second. In
+that interval of time Blinky's face had grown wrinkled and drawn with
+anger, and his hand had slid back to his hip and produced his
+forty-four. In another instant Bill would have paid dearly for his
+blow, but the rancher's hand fell on the cow-puncher's arm.
+
+"Not that way, Blinky," he said.
+
+"All right, boss," rejoined Blinky regretfully; "but it would have been
+a heap of satisfaction to have let daylight into that coyote's carcass."
+
+"Those fellows know where Rob is!" shouted Merritt, across whose face an
+angry red ridge lay, marking where the quirt had struck him. "Stop
+them!"
+
+"Steady on, boy, steady on," said Mr. Harkness in an even, cool tone.
+
+"And we without a spavined cayuse to follow 'em!" raged one of the
+cow-punchers.
+
+As he spoke, the three tormentors of the ranch party topped the little
+rise.
+
+As they did so, Clark Jennings rose in his stirrups and faced back.
+
+"Ye-ow!" he yelled defiantly, waving his hat mockingly toward them.
+
+Bang!
+
+The sombrero was suddenly whirled out of the youth's hand as if some
+invisible grasp had been laid upon it.
+
+Blinky looked apologetically at Mr. Harkness, and then carefully blew
+the smoke from the barrel of his pistol, the weapon with which he had
+just punctured Clark's headgear.
+
+"Awful sorry, boss," he said contritely, "but I just plumb couldn't help
+it."
+
+"Well, I don't know that I blame you," said Mr. Harkness, as the Clark
+Jennings party vanished in a hurry.
+
+The encounter with the three ne'er-do-wells had, however, changed the
+rancher's plans. Deducing from the fact that Hank Handcraft had Rob's
+hat in his possession, that the boy must have escaped from the Indians
+in some miraculous way, it was concluded that it would be a mere waste
+of effort to pursue the Moquis. The search must now be made for Rob
+himself. Even Tubby's spirits were dashed by the disturbing occurrences
+of the last few hours, and he and Merritt were both silent as the party
+made its way back to the cliff where the ponies had been left the day
+before. The plan now was to mount and scatter through the range.
+
+"We'll run a fine-tooth comb through it," was the emphatic way Mr.
+Harkness put it, "and if we don't find the boy, it'll be because he
+isn't on the top of the earth."
+
+All that day they retraced their steps, and at night made camp not far
+from the entrance to the tunnel. They did not dare to proceed in the
+dark, for fear of once more losing their path, and even more valuable
+time. It was not a lively party that settled down in the evening glow
+for a hastily cooked and not over-abundant supper. Even Tubby seemed
+distracted and worried.
+
+Suddenly Merritt, who was walking up and down, trying to evolve some
+theory to fit the facts in Rob's case, gave a shout and pointed over to
+the southwest.
+
+"Look, look!" he shouted. "Off there--what is it?"
+
+The boy's keen eyes had espied a thin spiral of blue smoke ascending
+from a hilltop against the burnished gold of the sunset.
+
+"A signal fire!" announced Blinky, after an interval.
+
+"It may be Rob signaling for help!" exclaimed Merritt, as the smoke rose
+and vanished and rose and vanished at regular intervals.
+
+"No, it ain't him. The Boy Scouts use the Morse, don't they?"
+
+"Yes. What has that to do with it?"
+
+"Well, this is Injun code."
+
+"Indian?"
+
+"Sure. The Injuns have as distinct a smoke-signal code as we have a
+wireless system. It works just as good, too, from what I can hear. Now,
+if we had their code book we----"
+
+"What, the Indians have a code book?"
+
+"You bet."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"In their rascally heads, son, where it's safe," rejoined the
+cow-puncher.
+
+"Hullo, look! There's an answer," cried Tubby, suddenly pointing to
+another hilltop some distance from the first.
+
+Another thin column of smoke was rolling upward from it in evident
+answer to the first.
+
+"Those fellows are making a date," decided the rough-and-ready Blinky.
+"I'd like to be on hand when they keep it, and maybe we'd find out
+something about Rob."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY.
+
+
+Blinky's conviction that the signaling had something to do with Rob
+would have been strengthened if he could have been so stationed as to
+watch the making of the first smoke telegraph Merritt noticed. On the
+distant hilltop Clark Jennings, Hank Handcraft and Bill Bender were
+stooped over a fire of green wood, alternately covering and uncovering
+it with a horse blanket. The signaling was being done under Clark's
+direction, as neither of the Easterners knew anything about the Indian
+smoke language. Clark, during his long residence in the West, had picked
+up his knowledge of it from Emilio Auguardo, the halfbreed who had once
+worked on his father's ranch. Through this man, too, he had become quite
+an intimate of the Moquis, as we have seen.
+
+"Douse it! Uncover it. Douse. Uncover. Douse. Uncover."
+
+Clark Jennings's commands came in regular rotation, with differing
+intervals between each order. In all essentials, those three enemies of
+the boys were using a telegraph code antedating by centuries the system
+in use to-day on our telegraph lines.
+
+"Ought to be getting an answer soon," muttered Clark, shading his eyes
+with his hand and standing erect on an upraised slab of rock, the better
+to command a view of the distant hills in the section in which he had
+reason to believe the Moquis had proceeded.
+
+"Hold on! Douse that fire!" he cried suddenly.
+
+Against the sky, not more than five miles distant, an answering thread
+of smoke had unrolled, like the coils of a slow serpent. Up it wavered
+and then stopped abruptly, to be followed by another puff. It was as if
+a locomotive lay beyond the distant hill. The puffs of smoke resembled
+the vaporous belchings of an engine stack when it is starting up.
+
+"They say for us to wait here and they will send a messenger," announced
+Clark finally.
+
+"Well, I guess we can wait as well as anything else," rejoined Hank
+Handcraft, extending himself lazily on the sun-warmed ground. "Are they
+going to send a pony?"
+
+"Don't know," rejoined Clark shortly. "Wonder what we'll do if Harkness
+hits our trail?"
+
+"Don't bother about that. He'll be too busy rounding up that boy Rob,"
+replied Bill Bender. "Queer where that kid went to."
+
+"Queer is no word for it," agreed Clark; "and what bothers me is that we
+are likely to have trouble with him yet if we're not careful."
+
+"You think he is alive, then?"
+
+"Must be, unless he melted into thin air."
+
+"That's so."
+
+"By the way, Clark," struck in Hank Handcraft suddenly, after a period
+of deep thought, aided by the consumption of sweet grass stalks,
+"wouldn't the present time be a good one to drop in on Harkness's
+mavericks?"
+
+"By thunder! you're right," was the reply. "Harkness is pretty sure to
+have the whole ranch force, or every one he can spare, spread out,
+seeking for that young cub. The Far Pasture will be pretty sure to be
+left unguarded. You're right, Hank; we'll see what the chief has to say,
+and then, if we can get a few Indians to help us, we'll make the big
+drive. Ha, ha! won't Harkness be sore if he finds the boy, to discover
+that it's cost him the loss of a few thousand dollars' worth of beef!"
+
+In further discussion of their plans the three worthies spent the next
+hour or so. By that time it was dark, and the thin, silver nail-paring
+of the new moon showed above the eastern hilltops. It grew very still,
+the deep silence being broken only by the hoot of an owl or the chirping
+of some night insect.
+
+Suddenly, and quite near at hand, a twig snapped loudly. Instantly the
+hands of each of the three flew to their weapons, but an instant later
+they perceived that they, at least, had no cause for alarm from the
+newcomer who had thus announced his arrival. It was an Indian that stood
+before them while they still stared in a startled way into the dark
+shadows.
+
+"Chief Black Cloud!" exclaimed Clark, as the figure silently glided into
+the small circle, shrouded in the folds of a heavy blanket.
+
+The chief had tied his pony some distance away, and had advanced with
+customary stealth on the camping place of his allies.
+
+"How!" grunted the chief, squatting down on his haunches. "You want
+talk?"
+
+"Well, that's the reason we lighted up our little wireless plant,"
+grinned Hank.
+
+"Hum! My brother with the hair on his face is foolish," snapped the
+chief, while the others laughed aloud at Hank's discomfiture. He did not
+again adopt a flippant tone toward the impressive figure which sat in
+council with them.
+
+"Chief Black Cloud," began Clark, "in the Far Pasture of Harkness, the
+rancher, below the places of the dwellers in the cliff, are many young
+cattle. They are unbranded, and if we can cut them out and get them
+away we can all be rich--make heap money."
+
+"Um!" grunted the chief, waiting for what was to come.
+
+"Harkness and his men are all away, seeking for a lost boy----"
+
+"Hum! Black Cloud know," interpolated the Indian.
+
+"Then you _did_ take him off!" burst out Bill Bender. "Why didn't you
+have sense enough to keep him?"
+
+"Hush!" ordered Clark sharply. He was sufficiently conversant with
+Indian character to know that the chief might be mortally offended by
+adverse comments on anything his tribe might have seen fit to do. But
+Black Cloud paid no attention to the interruption.
+
+"What you want Moquis to do?" inquired the chief, going right to the
+heart of the matter, for he had quite acumen enough to reason that from
+the conciliatory tone Clark adopted he had some service to ask.
+
+"That you will help us on the cattle drive," rejoined Clark boldly.
+
+The Indian shook his head.
+
+"No can do," he said decisively. "Mayberry, the Indian agent, is in the
+mountains seeking us now."
+
+Here the chief permitted himself a grim smile.
+
+"But Mayberry kind man. If we go back to reservation, make no trouble,
+everything all right. All the same as before. But if we steal the cattle
+of the white men, then the white man visit us with his anger."
+
+"It will be easy and no chance of being found out," urged Clark.
+
+But the chief shook his head.
+
+"No. My people here for snake dance. Not for steal white man's cattle."
+
+"Then you won't help us?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You'll be sorry for it, you old idiot!" snapped out Clark, foolishly
+letting his temper get the better of him for an instant.
+
+The Indian drew himself up with haughty dignity. Slowly he gathered the
+folds of his blanket about him. Then, and not till then, did he speak.
+
+"Black Cloud is never sorry for his deeds. But perhaps white men will
+sorrow for theirs," he said, with extraordinary dignity and force, and
+the next instant he was gone.
+
+"Say, Clark, it seems to me you've put your foot in it," muttered Hank,
+as the offended Indian strode off.
+
+"He looked Black Cloud by nature, as well as by name," commented Bill
+Bender. "He glared at you as if he would read your thoughts, Clark."
+
+"I hope not," laughed the young ranchman, though with a rather uneasy
+note in his assumed carelessness, "for they had a lot to do with him, I
+can tell you."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That we'll have to do the Indian act again."
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"Why, steal the cattle, disguised as Moquis. But come on, hit the trail.
+We'll be getting back to the ranch. I'll tell you as we go."
+
+As my readers will have seen, the above conversation throws a strange
+side light on Indian morality. The Moquis, of whom Chief Black Cloud was
+patriarch, had had not the slightest objection to "hold up" the boys and
+to capture Rob for ransom, but at the seriously punishable crime of
+cattle stealing they balked. What the consequences of this decision were
+to be to Clark Jennings and his companions we shall see later on. At the
+Jennings ranch they met Jess Randell, and here the four sat late,
+discussing the big coup which they hoped was to retrieve all their
+fortunes. At length they arrived at a decision, and arranged a plan
+which they deemed offered every security against discovery.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is now time to revert to the fortunes of Rob, of whom we last heard
+when the three worthies into whose camp he had been catapulted with such
+velocity were searching in vain for a clew to his whereabouts. As will
+be recalled, after leaping on the back of Hank Handcraft's pony, the boy
+had dashed off down the trail at top speed, without a very clear idea of
+where he was bound for. As he rode he heard the sounds of the pursuit,
+and simultaneously with the sharp report of Bill Bender's gun, he felt
+his pony halt and stagger beneath him.
+
+For an instant of time it seemed to Rob as if he was bound to be
+captured by his pursuers, but in his extremity his mind worked with the
+lightning-like rapidity common to quick intelligences in moments of
+great stress.
+
+At the precise instant that his little mount gave a groan and plunged
+forward into the dust of the trail, Rob reached above his head and
+seized the low-hanging branch of a small, stout tree. With the activity
+of the practiced athlete, he swung himself up into the thick greenery as
+the poor pony lay in its death struggles below. Rapidly working his way
+among the branches, he was soon several feet from the trail.
+
+While Bill Bender and Clark Jennings were hanging over the dead pony and
+searching in vain for the boy's trail, Rob was noiselessly making his
+way over rocks and stones down into a deep-timbered gully. He could
+hardly keep himself from an exultant laugh as he pictured the chagrin
+and amazement of his old enemies at his total disappearance.
+
+He rapidly sped on, and after an hour or more of traveling, feeling
+himself safe once more, he halted. Up to that moment he had pressed on
+without feeling much fatigue. The excitement of the rapid happenings
+since he had slipped upon the Indian pony's back had sustained him. Now,
+however, that he felt comparatively safe, the inevitable relapse came.
+Rob's knees began to feel strained and weak, as they had never felt
+before. His head, too, buzzed queerly, and a feeling of overpowering
+lassitude assailed him in every limb.
+
+"Good gracious! am I going to play out?"
+
+The boy asked himself the question with every feeling of dismay.
+
+He was in a solitary, remote part of even those wild mountains, and
+although he was on a small eminence, he could see nothing at any point
+of the compass but dreary, monotonous woods or rocky patches of
+sun-burned wild oats and foxtail. By the height of the sun and its
+direction, he guessed that it was about noon, and that he had been
+traveling in a southerly direction, but even of this, in his sudden
+collapse, he had no very clear notion. All he really knew was that he
+craved food with a wild, aching longing in his every fibre that had
+never before assailed him.
+
+"I wonder if starving men in cities ever feel like this?" the boy asked
+himself. "Woof! I could eat a horse raw cheerfully."
+
+Then came an interval of utter lassitude of mind and body, in which the
+boy lay stretched out on the hot ground, without a thought of anything.
+A strange ringing began to sound in his ears and his head felt dizzy.
+
+"Got to get out of the sun," he thought in a dim, remote sort of way.
+
+He voiced his thought aloud, and his tones sounded faint and far away to
+him, like the accents of another person.
+
+"Brace up, Rob, brace up," he began repeating to himself, as he made for
+a patch of deep shadow under a bush covered with a kind of purple
+berry.
+
+But in spite of his determination to "brace up," even the slight effort
+of crawling to the grateful shade bothered him so badly that, having
+reached it, he could only lie on his side and pant like an exhausted
+creature.
+
+All at once a sound was borne to his ears that made him sit up
+erect--the bright light of hope gleaming in his eyes.
+
+Heavy footsteps were coming toward him. The boy cared little whether the
+advancing individual was friend or foe. His coming meant food, at least;
+for surely no enemy could be so inhuman as to refuse nourishment to a
+boy in the pitiable condition of Rob Blake.
+
+"There's something queer about those footsteps, though," mused the boy,
+as the sounds drew nearer, accompanied by a sort of low, growling
+grumbling.
+
+What can it be?
+
+"Sounds like--like---- Great Scott! Silver Tip!"
+
+Into the small clearing on one side of which Rob lay beneath his
+sheltering bush, there had suddenly lumbered the half-legendary monarch
+of the Santa Catapinas.
+
+It was Silver Tip, the giant grizzly! For a second the monster's small,
+piglike eyes glared in blank astonishment at the encounter. He was
+hunting honey, and this sudden meeting with a white boy in the wildest
+part of his own particular domain evidently had struck him "in a heap,"
+so to speak.
+
+The next instant, however, the expression of his wicked little optics
+changed to one of active malevolence. He swung his great bulk savagely
+about--like the giant heavings and swayings of a picketed elephant. The
+small spot of snow-white hair that gave him his name shone out on his
+dark, shaggy hide like a bull's-eye. It was right over his heart. If Rob
+had had a rifle, he could have pierced it as unerringly as a target.
+
+[Illustration: With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed
+straight at his monstrous shaggy opponent.]
+
+But the lad was weaponless, and almost unconscious from fatigue and
+exhaustion. Indeed, delirium had been dangerously near when Silver Tip
+came lumbering into the clearing. The sight of the monster had tipped
+the delicately adjusted balance.
+
+With a crazy yell, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed straight at his
+monstrous shaggy opponent. In sheer astonishment, Silver Tip reared his
+immense bulk upward.
+
+"Ha, ha! I'll kill you, you old thief, you old murderer!" yelled Rob
+deliriously, as he hurled his slight form straight against the monstrous
+hairy tower of rugged strength.
+
+The great forepaws--armed with claws as sharp and heavy as chilled-steel
+chisels--extended. In another instant the lad would have been in the
+monster's death grip, when an intervention, as sudden as it was
+unexpected, occurred.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+THE INDIAN AGENT.
+
+
+From the dense surrounding clumps of chaparral there had suddenly
+emerged the figure of a tall, bearded man, with keen blue eyes and a
+striking air of self-reliance and resolution. It was Mr. Mayberry, the
+Indian agent. Over his arm he carried an automatic rifle, which he
+instantly jerked to his shoulder as his amazed eyes fell on the
+extraordinary scene before him. Surely Jeffries Mayberry was the first
+man who had ever gazed upon the spectacle of a boy, unarmed and alone,
+attacking the hugest grizzly in that part of the country.
+
+"The boy is mad!" was his first thought, and, as we know, he was not far
+wrong in this surmise.
+
+But it was no time for speculation as to the causes of this strange
+scene, and Jeffries Mayberry was not the man to indulge in rumination
+when the necessity called for immediate action.
+
+Bang!
+
+For the twentieth--or was it the hundredth?--time in his eventful life,
+Silver Tip felt the impingement of a bullet. But with the monster's
+usual good fortune, the ball did not pierce a vital part. Instead, it
+buried itself in the fleshy part of the brute's forequarters, inflicting
+a wound that made him bellow with pain and face round on this new foe.
+
+As Silver Tip, in regal majesty, swung his huge form about, Rob crumpled
+up in a heap and lay senseless on the hot ground.
+
+For an instant it looked as if the great monarch of the Santa Catapinas
+meant to attack the Indian agent. But it seemed that he changed his mind
+as he faced him. An animal so relentlessly hunted, and so often wounded
+as Silver Tip, becomes endowed with almost human cunning and reasoning
+power, and part of Silver Tip's immunity from mortal wounds had
+doubtless been due to this. Most grizzlies, when wounded, charge
+furiously on their tormentors, thus assuring their fatal injury. These
+had never been Silver Tip's tactics. He had always preferred to "fight
+and run away, and live to fight some other day."
+
+So it was now. For the space of a breath, the two splendid specimens of
+human kind and the animal kingdom stared into each other's eyes. In his
+admiration of the magnificent brute before him, Jeffries Mayberry held
+his fire. He could not bring himself to kill the splendid creature
+unless such an action became necessary in self-defense. Were there more
+hunters like him, our forests and plains would not have become
+devastated of many of the species once so plentiful among them.
+
+Suddenly the bear's eyes turned away under the steady scrutiny of the
+plainsman, and with a growl that was half a whine, he dropped on all
+fours and lumbered off.
+
+"Lucky for you you didn't hurt this boy, or even your splendid majesty
+wouldn't have saved you," muttered Jeffries Mayberry, reaching the
+unconscious Rob's side in three or four rapid strides.
+
+"Hum! in bad shape," he murmured, laying open the boy's blue flannel
+shirt and placing a hand over his heart. "Good thing I happened along
+when I did, and---- Hullo!" he gave a long, low whistle of astonishment.
+"It's one of those kids that my bad boy Moquis held up this side of
+Mesaville. Well, here's a discovery."
+
+He stood erect, and placing his fingers to his lips, blew a shrill,
+piercing call.
+
+The next instant a splendid cream-colored horse came bounding into the
+clearing, shaking his head impatiently and whinnying as his large liquid
+eyes fell on his master.
+
+"Here, Ranger," said Mayberry, addressing the beautiful steed as if it
+had possessed the faculty of understanding. "Here is a poor boy overcome
+for want of food and water, and I think he's got a touch of the sun.
+We've got to get him home, Ranger."
+
+Ranger pawed the ground with one forefoot and his nostrils dilated. His
+keen senses indicated to him that a bear had been about, and if there
+is one creature of which Western horses are thoroughly afraid it is his
+majesty, King Bruin.
+
+Perceiving this, Mayberry spoke a few reassuring words to the splendid
+horse, which instantly quieted down, though it still glanced
+apprehensively about it. The Indian agent's next action was to place
+Rob's senseless form across the saddle, while he himself swung rapidly
+up behind the cantle.
+
+Lightly pressing the rein to the left side of his horse's glossy neck,
+the Indian agent urged it forward into the chaparral. Ranger's dainty
+skin shivered at the rough touch of the prickly stuff, but he went
+unflinchingly in the direction his master guided him.
+
+After an hour or more of riding, Mayberry emerged on a curiously located
+open space. It lay at the bottom of a saucer-like depression, which
+might, in some remote day, have been a volcanic fire basin. Now,
+however, it was covered with a luxuriant growth of wild oats, and at the
+bottom bubbled up a little spring. All about it shot up scarred
+mountain sides, with scanty timber hanging to their rocky ribs. In the
+midst of this isolation and wilderness it looked strange to see a small
+cabin located. It was somewhat tumbledown, to be sure, and had, in fact,
+been erected there in the early fifties by a wandering prospector.
+Jeffries Mayberry, seeking a convenient spot from which to keep up his
+surveillance over his Moquis, had stumbled upon it by accident, and with
+an old woodsman's skill had rendered it quite habitable.
+
+So, at least, Rob thought, when half an hour later he recovered
+consciousness in the cool gloom of the shanty. He was lying on a bed of
+fragrant boughs, and above him was the shingle roof of the hut, through
+holes in which he could see the blue sky.
+
+"Where on earth am I?" was Rob's first thought, as consciousness rushed
+back like a tide that has been temporarily stemmed.
+
+Gradually the events preceding his collapse grew clear to him, and he
+retraced recent happenings up to the appearance of the grizzly. Of his
+delirious attack upon the monster, he had, of course, no recollection.
+
+"I must get up and find out where this is, and how I got here," was
+Rob's first thought, and with this intention he rose to his feet. To his
+intense astonishment, the room instantly whirled dizzily about him, and
+the earthen floor seemed to rise and smite him in the face. What had
+happened was that the weakened boy had fallen headlong. As he lay there,
+a hearty voice rang out in an amused tone:
+
+"Hello, hello! Pretty weak, ain't you, for a boy who wanted to fight
+grizzlies with his bare hands?"
+
+Rob looked up. The big form of Jeffries Mayberry stood framed in the
+doorway.
+
+He came forward and, gently as a woman, placed Rob on the couch.
+
+"Why--why, it's Mr. Mayberry!" gasped Rob, as his eyes fell on his
+companion's kindly, bearded features.
+
+"Yes, it's me, right enough," laughed the Indian agent. "And now, if
+you'll lie quiet for a minute, I'll see how some rabbit stew is getting
+along. How does that sound?"
+
+"Fine!" smiled Rob, and, indeed, the mention of food had set all his
+appetite on edge again. "But see here, Mr. Mayberry, I don't want to be
+babied this way. I'm going to get up and----"
+
+"You are going to do nothing of the sort," exclaimed the Indian agent.
+"Here, Ranger." Again he gave the peculiar whistle, and Ranger's dainty
+head appeared inquiringly in the doorway.
+
+"Watch that boy, Ranger, and if he tries to get up--grab him!"
+
+With these words, the kind-hearted Indian agent vanished, to superintend
+the composition of the stew he was making over a camp fire outside.
+
+"Well," thought Rob, "this is a funny situation. I'm in a hut, and
+haven't the least idea how I got here. A horse is set to guard me,
+and---- I wonder," he went on, "if that horse is really a watch dog, or
+if that was just a bluff."
+
+It was a good evidence of Rob's returning vitality that he stretched
+out a foot to test Ranger's watchfulness.
+
+Instantly the sharp, pointed ears lay flat back on the horse's head, and
+the whites of his eyes showed menacingly.
+
+"I guess I'll stay here!" laughed Rob.
+
+As soon as he resumed his posture, Ranger's ears came forward, and the
+kind light came back into his eyes.
+
+"I've heard of horses that were broken that way," thought Rob, "but this
+is the first I have ever seen."
+
+Had Rob known it, such horses as Ranger--animals trained to the same
+wonderful pitch of intelligence--are not uncommon in the Southwest.
+Presently Mr. Mayberry appeared with a bowl of what to Rob smelled more
+appetizing than anything he had ever known.
+
+"Ah-h-h-h-h!" he exclaimed, as his nostrils caught the savor.
+
+"Wade in," said Mr. Mayberry, placing the dish on a rough, home-made
+table by his side. And "wade in" Rob did. He could have finished half a
+dozen more bowls like it--or so he felt--but Mr. Mayberry told him that
+after such a fast as he had endured it was important to "go slow."
+
+So much better was the boy after dispatching the meal that he was able
+to get up, and after a short time spent in staggering about, he quite
+recovered his faculties.
+
+"Now," said Mr. Mayberry, "tell me how you came to be where I found
+you?"
+
+Rob told him, his narrative being interrupted from time to time by
+exclamations of astonishment from the Indian agent.
+
+"This youth, Clark Jennings," interrupted Mr. Mayberry once, "has been a
+thorn in my side for years. His father is almost as bad. They have
+frequently committed all sorts of outrages on ranchers and implicated
+the Indians in them. Not only that, but they have paid the most
+unprincipled of the Moquis to help them in their cattle stealing and
+fence cutting."
+
+"I wonder they haven't ever been captured," said Rob.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Mayberry, "as the saying goes, it is almost impossible
+to 'get the goods' on them. And you say you know this cousin of his from
+the East, and his companions?"
+
+"Very well," rejoined Rob, "some time I will tell you about our
+experiences in the East with their gang. They actually kidnapped one of
+our Boy Scouts, and imprisoned him in a hut."
+
+"Why, they could have been imprisoned for that!"
+
+"They would have been if it had not been for the fact that they fled to
+the West."
+
+Rob soon concluded his narration, and Mr. Mayberry then related to him
+some of his own movements of the last few days. Despairing of rounding
+up the Moquis by moral suasion, he had telegraphed to Fort Miles for a
+detachment of troops. He was to meet them the next evening at Sentinel
+Peak, a mountain about ten miles from his present camping-place. The
+Indian agent had succeeded in locating the valley in which the great
+Snake Dance was to be held, and, in consequence, was ready to raid it
+with the troops at the height of the ceremonies.
+
+"Such an action will break up their practices for many years," he
+declared.
+
+"When are you going to start for the peak?" asked Rob.
+
+"I had not intended to leave till to-morrow," said Mr. Mayberry, "but
+since you have told me you are anxious that your friends should be
+informed of your safety, I must start this evening in order to reach a
+settlement from which I can telephone to the Harkness ranch."
+
+Rob's heart sank. Mr. Mayberry had not said "we." The boy had hoped it
+would be possible for him to go along. The Indian agent saw his manifest
+disappointment and hastened to reassure him.
+
+"I would gladly take you," he said, "but it is too arduous a trip for
+even Ranger to carry more than one. You will be safe here till I return
+with the troops. I will come by here with an extra horse, and, if
+possible, with your friends, and then we will ride together on the
+Moquis."
+
+A shrill whinny suddenly sounded outside.
+
+"Hullo, what's the matter with Ranger?" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry,
+springing up, followed by Rob.
+
+Outside the hut the boy saw a strange sight. The splendid horse was
+gazing about him apprehensively, and stamping the ground impatiently.
+His nostrils were dilated, showing red inside, and his whole appearance
+was one of intense nervousness.
+
+
+"What's the matter with him?" asked Rob, noting in a swift glance that
+Mr. Mayberry's face had become suddenly clouded.
+
+"Well," said Mayberry succinctly, "there are only two things which make
+him act like that--Indians and bears--and I reckon there are no bears
+about right now.
+
+"But Ranger scents danger," he went on. "I am certain of it. Old horse,
+you'll have to carry double, after all."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT.
+
+
+It was mid-afternoon of the day following the start of Mr. Mayberry and
+Rob, riding double, from the shanty in the lonely basin. Gathered in the
+big living room of the ranch house of the Harkness range was a cheerless
+little group, consisting of the Boy Scouts of the Ranger Patrol, Mr.
+Harkness and several cow-punchers, including Blinky. They had returned,
+disheartened and apprehensive, a few hours before, from a painstaking
+search of the mountains for a trace of Rob. But they had found
+absolutely none, and as Mr. Harkness had just said, felt as if they had
+indeed reached "the end of the rope."
+
+"You don't think, then, there is a chance of our finding him?"
+
+It was Merritt who spoke.
+
+"I'm afraid, much as I dislike to say it, my boy, that we have used up
+every possible resource at our command," rejoined the rancher.
+
+"Then what are we to do? We can't give up the search like this. He may
+be wandering about in the mountains now."
+
+"With nothing to eat," put in Tubby tragically.
+
+"I only wish you could suggest something," said Mr. Harkness in a weary
+tone, that made Merritt ashamed of his querulous speech.
+
+"What your experience has been unable to suggest it is unlikely that we
+could think of," he rejoined. "I've only one thing to say, Mr. Harkness,
+and that is that we delay notifying his parents in the East till the
+last flicker of hope has died out."
+
+"You mean that we may still hear some news of him?"
+
+"I know Rob Blake," rejoined Merritt, "and if he has an ounce of
+strength he will make his way back."
+
+"But the tracks of the big bear?"
+
+"Silver Tip," put in Harry.
+
+"That looks bad, I know," stubbornly rejoined Merritt; "but somehow I
+feel that Rob will yet come out all right."
+
+"I hope so, I am sure," breathed Mr. Harkness fervently.
+
+As the reader will have guessed by the rancher's remark, the searching
+party had encountered the tracks of the big grizzly in the course of
+their wanderings. Huge as were the monster's paws, there was no danger
+of mistaking them for those of any of his kindred. The fact that the
+huge brute was on that side of the range had proved a disturbing factor
+in the hunt for Rob Blake. It indicated another source of danger to the
+missing boy, aside from the peril of Indians, hunger and thirst, and
+many other dangers that he might have to face.
+
+Suddenly Mr. Harkness started up from the big hewn-oak chair in which he
+had flung himself, and sat up, listening intently. The others did the
+same, Blinky running to the window.
+
+"There's some one on a pony coming over the foothills like blazes bent
+for election!" he announced.
+
+"Wh-o is it?" demanded Mr. Harkness.
+
+"Can't make out. Doesn't ride like any of this outfit," said Blinky.
+
+"Maybe it's news of Rob," exclaimed Merritt.
+
+The same thought flamed up in the heart of each of the returned
+searchers.
+
+"It's an Indian!" cried Blinky suddenly.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Can tell by his riding. I can see his blanket flapping out, too."
+
+"Perhaps he has news of the boy."
+
+"He knows something of importance; he wants to get here quick," was the
+cow-puncher's rejoinder. "He's spurring on that plug of his for all he's
+worth. Indians don't ride that hard unless they are in a hurry."
+
+Everybody was on their feet now, and by common consent a movement toward
+the door began.
+
+They had not long to wait before the rider galloped up, and drew rein so
+violently as to cast his mount back on its haunches. As Blinky had said,
+the newcomer was an Indian. He had evidently ridden long and hard. His
+pony's coat was covered with a coating of dust, and his blanket was
+whitened with the same stuff. The paint on his face was almost
+obliterated by the same substance.
+
+"How!" he exclaimed, gazing with a hawklike intensity into the ring of
+faces.
+
+"How!" said Mr. Harkness in the same manner. "Black Cloud!" he exclaimed
+the next instant, as the chief slipped from his pony.
+
+The chief nodded gravely, and then looked about him uneasily. He
+evidently did not like to be the centre of so many curious faces.
+Divining his thought, the rancher invited him inside, ordering one of
+the cow-punchers to take the chief's pony.
+
+"Has--has he news of Rob?" begged Merritt, pressing forward.
+
+"Now, see here, Merritt," said Mr. Harkness, not unkindly, "the way of
+an Indian is one of the wonders of the world. You leave him to me, and
+if he does know anything of the boy I'll get it out of him."
+
+Together the Indian chief and the rancher passed into the living room
+of the ranch house, and the door closed on them.
+
+For more than an hour they remained closeted, and then they emerged once
+more. Black Cloud, so the eager boys noticed, looked more than usually
+grim and determined, while Mr. Harkness's face bore a stern look. The
+Indian's pony, which had been fed, watered and rubbed down, was brought
+round for him, and he cast once more a searching glance about him. Then,
+without a word, he leaped upon his little animal's back and dashed off.
+
+"He--he had news?" demanded Merritt, the foremost in the rush that
+instantly surrounded Mr. Harkness.
+
+"Yes, grave news," was the reply; "but come inside. I will tell you all
+he told me. In the first place, to relieve your anxiety, I must tell you
+that while Rob was for a time a prisoner of the tribe, he is so no
+longer, having, as we surmised after we saw his sombrero on that scamp's
+saddle, escaped."
+
+"Then nobody knows where he is?"
+
+"That's it."
+
+Blank looks were exchanged as they clustered about the rancher to hear
+what the chief of the Moquis had visited him for. Evidently, from the
+rancher's manner, there were graver thoughts still in his mind.
+
+"To explain to you what is to follow," he said, "I must say that things
+are now at a crisis as regards the leadership of the Moquis tribe. For
+the first time in many years Black Cloud's power is threatened. A
+younger chief, named Diamond Snake, has attained great supremacy in the
+tribe, and is using his influence to undermine the leadership of Black
+Cloud. Diamond Snake is not a full-blooded Indian, but he once worked
+for Clark Jennings on his father's ranch, before the family moved here."
+
+"Gosh-jigger them!" burst out Blinky devoutly.
+
+"Black Cloud, who is a pretty sensible Indian, refused to have anything
+to do with Jennings and his gang, and as late as last night, he tells
+me, warned them not to try to implicate his tribe in trouble. In spite
+of that, an attack is to be made on our mavericks in the Far Pasture by
+Jennings and his crowd, disguised as Moquis, and----"
+
+"It was Jennings and that bunch, for a bet, that stampeded the cattle!"
+cried Blinky.
+
+"I think so. They could easily rig themselves up as Moquis and deceive
+any one, particularly in the excitement. Black Cloud became suspicious
+after his interview with Jennings, and laid in hiding in the brush. What
+he heard confirmed his suspicion that Jennings meant to disguise himself
+and his helpers as Indians, when they raided the cattle, and so throw
+the blame on the tribe. Old Black Cloud readily saw that this would work
+him immeasurable harm, so rode right off to warn me."
+
+"But why should he do this?" asked Merritt.
+
+"It's clear enough," rejoined the rancher. "He knows I'm pretty
+influential, and he also knows that there's a hot time coming for his
+tribe when they are finally rounded up. By coming to me and telling me
+of Jennings's plans, he figures that I, on my part, will go to the front
+for him and save his tribe from any severe penalty."
+
+"But will you?" asked Harry.
+
+"I promised him to," rejoined Mr. Harkness. "His visit may be the means
+of saving me thousands of dollars. But now I am in a serious
+predicament. Most of my punchers are off on the Bone Mound Range,
+rounding up mavericks. Jennings will have quite a force, and how are we
+to oppose him?"
+
+"We'll help you," spoke up Harry boldly.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Why, the Boy Scouts. Except Merritt and Tubby, we can all rope, and not
+one of us is scared of a little shooting, or anything like that."
+
+"Well, I don't like the idea of taking you boys into danger."
+
+"I guess you'll have to take them," put in Blinky soberly.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Well, there's only myself and three other punchers, and we'll need at
+least a dozen to take care of the raid. Let the kids help. They'll do
+all right. I watched 'em carefully while we were trailing poor Rob, and
+they're made of the right stuff."
+
+So it was arranged that the boys were to take part in protecting the Far
+Pasture against Clark Jennings and his marauders. There was now little
+doubt in the minds of Mr. Harkness and the others that the stampede had
+been instigated by Clark and his friends, disguised as Moquis. In fact,
+we know from the conversation we overheard in the mountains that such
+was the case.
+
+"Where has Black Cloud gone, to join the snake dance?" asked Merritt,
+when this had been settled.
+
+"No; at least, he has gone there, but with the object of preventing it,
+if possible. In some way he has learned that Mayberry has sent for
+soldiers, and that he means to surprise the tribe at the height of their
+revelry. Black Cloud, for this reason, is determined to stop it if he
+can."
+
+"Can he, do you think?" asked Harry.
+
+"I don't know. He told me that Diamond Snake, in order to make himself
+more popular with the tribe, was a red-hot advocate of giving the dance
+with all its trimmings."
+
+"I'd like to see it," said Merritt suddenly.
+
+"See them eating rattlers, eh?" put in Blinky.
+
+"Do they eat them?" asked Tubby, interested at once at the mention of
+his favorite topic.
+
+"Eat 'em alive," was the startling reply; "that is, except the ones they
+throw into a red-hot pit of coals."
+
+"Did you ever see a snake dance?" asked Merritt eagerly.
+
+"No, but I heard my grandpop talk about 'em. He's one of the few white
+men that ever saw one and got out alive."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That by Moqui law if a white man is caught looking on at their
+fal-de-lals and fandangos, he is tortured to death."
+
+"Hum! I guess I don't want to see one as badly as I thought I did,"
+muttered Tubby.
+
+At this instant there came a sharp ring at the telephone. Mr. Harkness
+hastened to the instrument and took up the receiver. His face paled,
+and then broke into a joyous smile as he heard the voice at the other
+end.
+
+"News of Rob!" he shouted, wheeling about.
+
+Instantly they pressed forward about him, eager to hear.
+
+"He's---- Hullo! Yes. What's that? Oh, yes. Boys, Rob was at Red Flat
+some time ago. He is now mounted and on his way here. I am talking to
+Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, who saved him from a terrible death."
+
+"How far is Red Flat from here?"
+
+"About twenty miles, and the boy has a good horse."
+
+"He ought to be here in a couple of hours, then?"
+
+"About that," rejoined Mr. Harkness, resuming his conversation with the
+Indian agent. Suddenly they heard his voice raised as if in
+expostulation.
+
+"Don't do any such thing, Mayberry!" the boys heard the rancher exclaim.
+"You are mad to attempt it!"
+
+"Oh, I know, duty is duty, but it's no man's duty to place his head in
+a trap. Why, man alive, it's courting death, you----"
+
+"He's rung off," he exclaimed, turning to the inquiring group behind
+him. "I don't know what I wouldn't give to be able to stop him in what
+he is about to do."
+
+"Is he in trouble?" asked Harry.
+
+"No, my boy, but he soon will be. He is going to '_reason_' with the
+Indians. Reason with them!" he burst out bitterly. "Reason with a rock,
+a rattlesnake, a coyote, or anything else senseless or cruel, but don't
+reason with an Indian."
+
+"If you're enjoyin' this here present life," put in Blinky sagely.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL.
+
+
+Had Jeffries Mayberry and Rob Blake possessed the wonderfully sensitive
+intuition of the Indian agent's beautiful horse, they might have been
+able to feel, as they set out from the shanty in the clearing, that they
+were being followed and observed by more than one pair of cruel, beady
+eyes. Not being endowed with any such faculties, however, they followed
+the trail without any misgivings.
+
+The Indian agent, fortunately, had the good sense to accept the
+uneasiness of his steed as a sign of nearby danger. He had, for that
+reason, altered his previous determination to leave Rob behind in the
+hut till he returned with the soldiers from Fort Miles. And it was well
+that he did so, as we shall see.
+
+Hardly had the ring of Ranger's hoofs died out than a dozen dusky forms
+slid from the brush into the clearing and looked cautiously about.
+Seeing no cause for alarm, they entered the shanty and stripped it of
+everything they considered valuable. The Moquis, for such they were,
+then returned to the spot where they had tethered their ponies, and took
+the trail after Mayberry and his young companion. It was the scent of
+the ponies that had aroused Ranger's uneasiness, although the Indians,
+with their customary caution, had, as has been said, tethered them some
+little distance from the shanty.
+
+All that night, as Mr. Mayberry and his young companion rode steadily
+forward toward Red Flat, the objective point at which the Indian agent
+had determined to aim, the redskins stealthily dogged their tracks.
+Never by so much as an incautious move, however, did they betray their
+presence. Red Flat had been chosen as their destination by Mr. Mayberry
+on account of the superior attractions in point of distance it offered
+to the other station of Sentinel Peak. It was out of his way, it is
+true, but he determined to tax Ranger with the extra miles rather than
+expose Rob to peril, or keep him separated from his friends longer than
+needful.
+
+It was early dawn when they clattered into Red Flat, a small settlement
+with the essential store and post office. Its communication with the
+outside world consisted of the telephone and a stage which once a day
+trundled through. To the chagrin of the two travelers, however, the
+store in which the 'phone was located had been locked up during its
+owner's absence, and it was necessary to await his return before they
+could use the instrument. This opportunity, as we know, did not occur
+before the afternoon. In the meantime, Rob had hired a pony from the
+blacksmith of the place, and started off for the Harkness ranch.
+
+He had not been gone ten minutes when Ben Starkey, the storekeeper,
+drove into town. He had been off on a distant pasture, rounding up some
+sheep, which had kept him away till that time.
+
+"Hullo, Mr. Mayberry," he hailed, as he saw the Indian agent. "What
+brings you here? Come to buy a plow, or a shotgun to manage those
+'babies' of yours?"
+
+"Neither," smiled the agent; "but if you will open up the store, Ben,
+I'd like to telephone."
+
+"All right. Want to use the talk box, eh?" chattered the storekeeper, as
+he unfastened sundry locks and bolts. "There you are. Now talk your head
+off."
+
+Presently, as we know, Mr. Mayberry was communicating the news of Rob's
+astonishing rescue to Mr. Harkness. He also told him something that he
+had not confided to Rob, and that was that he intended to hold the
+soldiers in reserve and go by himself to the valley in which the snake
+dance was to be held, and, as he expressed it, "reason with the Moquis."
+
+Now, there is little doubt that, had Black Cloud been in supreme control
+of the tribe at that time, Mr. Mayberry, with his knowledge of the red
+men, and the many little kindnesses he had done them, might have been
+able to "reason with them." But, as has been said, conditions in the
+tribe were not normal. The unscrupulous Diamond Snake, who was as
+ambitious as he was senseless, had determined on giving the snake dance,
+and equally determined that the logic of the little circle who still
+kept their heads and counseled saner measures should not prevail.
+Unfortunately, the wisest counsel is not invariably the most acceptable,
+and so it proved in the case of the rival chiefs. Black Cloud was even
+spoken of as "timid" by some of the young bucks. This, however, was
+behind his back, as none dared to fling such a taunt in the face of the
+veteran.
+
+In counsel, Black Cloud, supported by three or four of the elder
+Indians, had pleaded the many years of comfort Mr. Mayberry had provided
+for them. If they did nothing to thwart his wishes, he reasoned, the
+good times would continue. If they deliberately rebelled, however, no
+one knew what would happen.
+
+This sage advice had been jeered down by Diamond Snake's followers. The
+ancient lore of the tribe had been quoted, the spirits of their
+ancestors invoked, and Black Cloud denounced as a traitor to the
+traditions of the Moquis. A similar situation has often prevailed in
+the counsels of the white men, who vaunt themselves so much the red
+man's superiors. It was simply the case of one leader bowing to the will
+of the populace, the other sternly stemming the tide, bidding defiance
+to the element which he knows stands for what is wrong and foolish.
+
+So it had come about that a band of young braves engaged in hunting had
+stumbled across Mr. Mayberry's hiding place, and, having discovered it,
+had decided that it was their duty to trail its occupant, whom they not
+unnaturally, perhaps, regarded as their enemy.
+
+No such thoughts were in Jeffries Mayberry's mind, however, as he rode
+slowly out of Red Flat in the early twilight. On the contrary, a smile
+played about his usually rather stern features, and his whole
+countenance was relaxed in an expression which, to any one viewing him,
+would have said as plain as print that Jeffries Mayberry was in a
+pleasant mood.
+
+In fact, the crisis that he had feared seemed to the Indian agent's mind
+to have passed the crucial point. The cavalry from Fort Miles would be
+at Sentinel Peak that evening. From there it was not a long ride to the
+valley in which the dance was to be held. By midnight, he felt certain,
+things would be in train for the peaceful return of the Moquis to their
+reservation. Jeffries Mayberry was, as our readers have doubtless
+decided by this time, a man to whom the idea of bloodshed or violence
+was abhorrent, but also a man who looked upon duty unflinchingly. He
+regarded the Moquis more as children to be looked after, and chided, and
+reasoned with, than as bloodthirsty and cruel savages, in whom a thin
+veneer of civilization only skinned the savagery festering below. Men
+had often told Jeffries Mayberry that his view of the Indian character
+was wrong, but he had always defended his views. They were shortly
+destined to be put to the severest test a man's theories ever were
+called upon to bear.
+
+The Indian agent had ridden easily down the trail some two miles or so
+in the direction of Sentinel Mountain, when Ranger suddenly swerved so
+violently from the trail as almost to unseat him.
+
+"Steady, boy, steady!" soothed the agent, patting the alarmed animal's
+neck. "What is it?"
+
+Ranger snorted violently and then, trembling in every limb, came to a
+dead stop.
+
+"Why, Ranger, I----" began Mr. Mayberry, when, with hideous yells,
+several dark forms rushed from the surrounding gloom. As their
+soul-chilling yell burst from those hideously painted faces, distorted
+with the vilest of passions, a terrific blow was dealt the Indian agent
+from behind, and he fell forward, almost beneath the trampling hoofs of
+the maddened Ranger.
+
+His assailants were the same Indians who had been trailing him all the
+previous night, and who had lain in wait for him outside the settlement.
+
+The taste of blood is said to transmute a hitherto peaceful sheep dog
+into a creature more dangerous to his flock than even a marauding wolf.
+In like manner, the Moquis' dash off the reservation had converted them
+into a ferocity of mind which had speedily wiped off the varnish
+civilization had applied so painstakingly.
+
+While one of the Indians, seemingly the leader of the band, possessed
+himself of the agent's fine rifle, another hastened to seize the
+plunging Ranger's bridle. But the animal, beside himself with rage and
+fear, reared straight upright. Angered, the Indian dealt him a blow with
+a heavy rawhide quirt. With a squeal of rage, Ranger struck with his
+iron-shod forefeet at the redskin, and striking him on the head, toppled
+him over in the road beside his master.
+
+The fellow, however, was not badly hurt, and was soon on his feet again.
+Meanwhile, the other red men hoisted the agent's unconscious form over
+the back of one of their ponies.
+
+Jeffries Mayberry lay as if he were dead. Blood flowed from the wound
+that the weapon with which he had been struck had inflicted on the back
+of his head. Only the regular rising and falling of his deep, massive
+chest showed that he still lived.
+
+Glancing furtively about them, the Indians, including the one who had
+been felled by Ranger, remounted and prepared to proceed. The chief,
+however, on whose pony the still form of Jeffries Mayberry lay, found
+himself thus without a mount, and essayed to ride Ranger. Splendid rider
+as the fellow was, he met more than his match in the Indian agent's
+steed. Time and again he attempted to mount, only to be driven off by
+Ranger, who rushed at the member of the hated race, with bared teeth and
+ears wickedly set back.
+
+With a laugh that acknowledged his defeat, the Indian finally gave up
+the attempt, and mounted his pony, sitting far back on the animal's
+rump. In the glance he threw at the fiery Ranger there was an expression
+of admiration and respect. There are few horses that an Indian cannot
+master.
+
+Attempts to lead Ranger proved equally hopeless, but as he seemed to be
+inclined to follow his master's form, they allowed him to trail behind.
+And so the procession wound on, sometimes following a trail and
+sometimes striking off through the trackless wild. Never once did the
+redskins falter, but kept on as unhesitatingly as if following a beaten
+track.
+
+Occasionally, as they journeyed on, poor Ranger gave vent to a pathetic
+whinny, but the master he loved so well lay still and motionless on the
+back of the Indian pony that bore him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+THE MAVERICK RAID.
+
+
+"Hark!"
+
+Through the dark, low-lying mass that marked the feeding maverick herd,
+a sort of convulsive shudder suddenly ran. The movement, somewhat like
+the undulation of a long wave, had not been lost on the keen eyes of the
+Boy Scouts lying crouched under the night sky behind a chaparral-covered
+rise.
+
+It was Rob who voiced the warning. Since we last heard of him at Red
+Flat, the boy had arrived at the ranch, and been welcomed with--well,
+let each one of my readers imagine for himself how he would greet his
+chum if he had been separated from him under such trying circumstances,
+and if, for a time, he had even feared that his friend might be dead.
+Suffice it to say that it was fully half an hour before Rob could be
+released from his chums and tell his story to Mr. Harkness, including
+confirmation of the Indian's story, that Clark Jennings and his evil
+companions meant to steal the mavericks while the rancher's attention
+was diverted by the hunt for the missing boy.
+
+A hasty supper had been dispatched soon after, and then the Boy Scouts,
+Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers had set out for the Far Pasture. They
+reached there at nightfall, and found everything apparently in orderly
+shape. Owing to the uncertainty from which quarter the cattle thieves
+were likely to make their attack, Mr. Harkness had decided to distribute
+his little force in two wings, so to speak. To the south of the feeding
+bunch of mavericks he had deployed his cow-punchers under his own
+leadership. The northern flank of the feeding band was placed under the
+guardianship of the Boy Scouts.
+
+"Now, boys," had been Mr. Harkness's parting words, as he rode off, "the
+signal that they have arrived will be two shots in quick succession.
+Remember, don't fire at the raiders unless you have to. Concentrate
+your efforts on saving the cattle. If Jennings and his outfit once
+succeed in getting them headed up toward the mountains, they are as good
+as lost. Jennings has some sort of secret pasture where he can keep them
+till he finds time to clap his brand on and dispose of them in the open
+market."
+
+"But in the meantime you can have him arrested," objected Rob.
+
+"That is true, but a bunch like that always has secret agents. If all
+the men whom I know to be implicated in the Jennings' escapades were in
+jail, there would still be men on the outside of the prison walls to
+carry on their nefarious work."
+
+For an hour or more no sound had come to disturb the great silence which
+brooded above the grazing grounds. The herd moved easily and steadily
+over their feeding places, displaying no symptoms of alarm as they
+cropped the half-dry grass.
+
+Rob had enjoined perfect silence among the Boy Scouts of the Ranger
+Patrol, and the boys, composed, lay like veterans to their arms behind
+their shelter.
+
+Suddenly a maverick that had been lying down on the outskirts of the
+herd lumbered heavily to its feet, and raising its head, sniffed the air
+for a moment. Then it emitted a shrill bellow. A thrill ran through the
+boys as the young steer gave its alarm.
+
+Simultaneously, almost, with the maverick's cry had come marked
+restlessness among its mates. They stopped feeding and moved uneasily to
+and fro. They huddled together as cattle do before one of the electric
+storms of the Southwest breaks over them.
+
+"They hear something coming," whispered Merritt, who lay next to Rob.
+
+"Must be scared, to stop eating," put in Tubby, from his position
+alongside Harry Harkness, on Rob's other side.
+
+"Hush!" breathed the young leader. "Listen!"
+
+"I don't hear anything," said Merritt.
+
+"Yes, you do. Listen again. Off there to the north."
+
+"You mean that sort of trampling sound?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I thought that was the cattle," put in Merritt.
+
+"No. I hear what Rob means," whispered Harry. "It's riders, and they're
+coming this way."
+
+The slight sound that had first attracted Rob's keen ears now grew in
+volume till it resolved itself into the rattle of ponies' hoofs
+approaching at a smart gallop.
+
+"Here they come!" exclaimed Rob, half unconsciously clasping his rifle.
+
+"Well, they don't seem to be anxious to disguise their approach,"
+commented Harry.
+
+"No, why should they? They figure that only three or four punchers at
+most are guarding the herd. With the force they have with them they
+suppose, I guess, that they can scare the punchers off."
+
+"I reckon that's it," agreed Merritt.
+
+Closer and closer drew the galloping, and Merritt began to shift
+uneasily. The others, too, began to stir about, eager for the word to
+advance and mount their ponies, which were concealed behind a high
+rampart of chaparral a few paces off. At last Rob gave the word.
+
+"Crawl over to your ponies, boys. Don't show a head."
+
+Silently as so many snakes, the Boy Scouts retreated, and managed to
+gain their little mounts without making any suspicious sounds.
+
+"Ready for the signal yet, Rob?" asked Merritt, noticing that the young
+leader had slipped his revolver from its holster.
+
+"Not yet. Give them a little more rope. We want to see what their plans
+are before giving the alarm."
+
+"All right. But don't let them give us the slip."
+
+"Not likely. Remember, I've got a few scores to even up with Master
+Clark Jennings and Company myself."
+
+Suddenly out of the darkness before them came an ear-splitting "whoop."
+
+"Yip-yip-y-ee-e-e-e!"
+
+Bang! Bang!
+
+Rob's pistol cracked out the signal that the attack had begun at the
+same instant.
+
+But quick as he was, the boy had delayed a little too long. In his
+anxiety to make sure from which quarter the drive was to begin, he had
+allowed the raiders to get between his line of scouts and the cattle,
+thus permitting them a free and open path to the mountains. In a flash
+Rob realized this, as he swung on his pony's back.
+
+Silence was of little moment now, and the Boy Scouts uttered a loud
+cheer as they swept forward behind their leader.
+
+Bang! Bang!
+
+It was the answer to Rob's signal, from Mr. Harkness's party. But it
+sounded faint and far off. The rancher, in his anxiety to allow ample
+room to head off the cattle, in case they started for the Graveyard
+Cliffs, had stationed his men too far to the southward.
+
+Already the drive had begun, and the mavericks were trotting off before
+the onrush of a dozen or more dark figures garbed like Indians.
+
+"Whoop-whoop-whoop-ee-ee!" yelled the raiders, the better to keep up the
+illusion that they were Indians.
+
+"I guess they don't know that they are not throwing any dust in our
+eyes," muttered Rob, as he dug his spurs in deep, and his pony answered
+with every pound of speed in its active little body. By his side was
+Harry Harkness and all about them surged the other Boy Scouts.
+
+"Spread out! Spread out!" commanded Rob, as the charge swept forward.
+"Each Scout take a man and rope him if he can."
+
+With the exception of the Eastern boys, every lad in the Ranger Patrol
+was, as a matter of course, an efficient roper, and could handle a
+lariat as well as they could their ponies. Rob's command to use the
+rawhides, therefore, met with shouts and yells of approval.
+
+The consternation created in the ranks of Clark Jennings's raiders by
+the chorus of shouts and yells behind them may be imagined.
+
+"I thought you told us there wouldn't be more than a few cow-punchers
+here," said Bill Bender angrily, as they pressed on behind the cattle,
+which were now loping fast toward the mountains.
+
+"Well, I thought so. How was I to know they'd have an army out?"
+
+"That's what they've got. Hark at that!"
+
+A fresh yell from the Boy Scouts broke out behind the disguised raiders,
+and this time it sounded closer.
+
+"Speed up those cattle," shouted Clark Jennings desperately; "we've got
+to get to the mountains before they close on us."
+
+A volley of pistol shots was the answer, but the raiders fired above the
+cattle's backs. A fresh burst of speed followed from the frightened
+animals, which were now fairly stampeding. The shouts and yells and the
+constant cracking of pistols drove them into a frenzy of fear. On and on
+swept the mad advance.
+
+"If once they get to the hills, we may as well give them up!" shouted
+Harry, above the deafening hammer of the galloping Boy Scouts.
+
+"Yes, we'd better pump some lead into them!" yelled Bill Simmons.
+
+"On no account," shouted back Rob. "Use your ropes, but no shooting."
+
+Fast as the mavericks were urged on, they could not make the same speed
+over the rough ground that the ponies of their tormentors achieved. This
+fact naturally held back the line of disguised white raiders and
+permitted the Boy Scouts to close up on them. Before long they were so
+close that they could see the headdresses and blankets of the supposed
+Indians, waving above the dark line of racing steers.
+
+In the excitement of the chase, the boys had quite overlooked the fact
+that they were in close pursuit of some of the most desperate men in
+Arizona, and had carelessly come within pistol range.
+
+Suddenly a bright flash spurted from one of the raiders' revolvers, and
+a bullet whizzed past Rob's ear.
+
+"A miss is as good as a mile!" he yelled exultingly.
+
+The boy, to tell the truth, did not feel any fear of being "pinked" by a
+raider's bullet. Added to the darkness was the fact that the whole body
+was sweeping forward over rough ground at tremendous speed. A man, to
+aim true under such conditions, must have been a phenomenal marksman.
+
+"Aim low! Fire at their ponies!" he heard Clark Jennings yell suddenly.
+
+"Ah!" thought Rob. "Now you are talking. If a pony gets hit, it puts his
+rider out of the race."
+
+Hardly had the thought flashed through his mind before there came
+another spurt of fire from the raiders' line, and Rob felt his mount
+collapse under him.
+
+He leaped from the saddle just in time to avoid being crushed as the
+pony crashed down in a dying heap. The boy had been riding off to one
+side of the Scouts when his pony was shot, and in the darkness not one
+of them seemed to have noticed that Rob was dismounted, for yelling and
+cheering, the chase swept on.
+
+"Well, I'm out of it," thought Rob dismally. "I hope they get them,
+though. I'd like----"
+
+"Up with your hands, and drop that rifle!"
+
+The command came out of the darkness behind him like a bolt out of the
+blue.
+
+Rob recognized that whoever had voiced the command meant business, and
+down fell his rifle with a crash, while his hands extended above his
+head.
+
+"Now I've got you where I want you," were the next words, coming in a
+vindictive voice from his captor. The next instant the speaker rode
+round the motionless Rob, and brought his pony to a halt directly in
+front of the boy.
+
+Despite the shrouding blanket and the waving feathers on the rider's
+head, Rob recognized his captor, with a thrill, as Clark Jennings. He
+was absolutely in the power of the vindictive ranch boy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE.
+
+
+"Lucky thing for me my pony went lame and I had to drop out," muttered
+Clark Jennings triumphantly. "I've got a few things I want to say to
+you, Rob Blake."
+
+"You'd better say them quick, then," rejoined Rob. "I'm not overfond of
+your conversation."
+
+"Don't try to be fresh, young fellow!" warned Clark, raising his rifle
+menacingly. "I've got a corrective for back-talk in here."
+
+"But you daren't use it."
+
+"Don't be too sure."
+
+"Well, what do you want to do with me?"
+
+"All you have to do now is to obey, and obey pronto--see? Now march."
+
+"Which way?"
+
+"Toward the mountains."
+
+"Very well." Rob wheeled obediently, and began to march off, but
+already he had conceived a daring plan, and unexpectedly an opportunity
+suddenly presented itself to carry it out. As Clark Jennings swung his
+pony, the animal spied, lying on the bare ground, a gleaming white
+skull--the relic of some dead and gone steer. With a snort, he gave a
+wild sidewise leap that almost unseated Clark, practiced rider though he
+was.
+
+Rob heard the snort and the jump and Clark's sharp exclamation. In a
+flash his mind was made up. He wheeled like a streak, and bending down,
+grabbed his rifle. In far less time than it takes to tell it, the muzzle
+of the weapon was covering Clark Jennings's breast.
+
+"Drop that rifle, Clark!"
+
+The tables were turned with a vengeance now. But Clark Jennings, to do
+him justice, was no coward. Disregarding Rob's command, he instead
+raised his own rifle and aimed point blank at the lad. A stinging
+sensation cut through Rob's right shoulder and his muscles involuntarily
+contracted. His rifle was an automatic, and the "safety" slide was open.
+As Clark's bullet penetrated his shoulder, Rob's finger twitched on the
+light trigger.
+
+Bang!
+
+The bullet ploughed into the flank of Clark's pony. The animal gave a
+frightened, pained squeal and a terrific buck. Utterly unprepared as
+Clark was for such a contingency, he was shot through the air over the
+pony's head, and landed with a crash on the hard ground. His rifle flew
+out of his hand in the opposite direction, while his pony, which was
+only slightly wounded, galloped, riderless, off.
+
+"Well, I hope you're satisfied now," growled Clark, raising himself on
+one elbow and gazing vindictively at Rob, who this time took no chances
+and kept his enemy covered. Clark, for all he knew, might have a
+revolver concealed about him.
+
+"I'm not the one to be satisfied," rejoined Rob. "That is for Mr.
+Harkness to be. I should advise you to tell him the truth."
+
+At that instant the sound of trampling hoofs was heard off to the south.
+It was the belated band of cow-punchers, headed by Mr. Harkness,
+sweeping at top speed in the direction of the retreating chase.
+
+"Co-ee-ee!" yelled Rob.
+
+"Who is it?" came back the hail.
+
+"Rob Blake. I want to see you."
+
+"Don't stop us now, Rob," came back Mr. Harkness's voice, "unless it is
+something serious. We don't want to lose that rascal Jennings."
+
+"If you'll come this way, you can't miss him," called Rob cheerfully.
+
+"Confound you, Rob Blake! I'll get even with you some day for this!"
+growled Clark, utterly dumfounded by the unexpected arrival of Mr.
+Harkness. A few seconds later the perhaps equally astonished rancher and
+his men loped up. A shrill cheer broke from the punchers as they saw the
+leader of the cattle raiders ingloriously squatted on the ground,
+nursing a sprained wrist and scowling like a cornered wildcat.
+
+"Well done, Rob," cried Mr. Harkness, as he saw the crestfallen raider.
+"Here, Blinky, just take a few turns round this fellow with a rope.
+Joyce," to another of the punchers, "you stay here and guard him. We'll
+take no chance with so slippery a customer."
+
+The rancher drew out an electric flash torch and illumined the scene.
+Suddenly his eyes fell on a dark, wet patch on Rob's shoulder.
+
+"Why, boy, you are wounded!" he cried.
+
+"Oh, just a touch. The bullet tore the flesh. It isn't anything,"
+protested Rob.
+
+"What, he fired at you?"
+
+"Yes," Clark answered brutally, "and I'm sorry I didn't kill him!"
+
+An examination of Rob's injury showed that it was only a slight flesh
+wound, and after it had been wrapped up with a strip of his shirt to
+keep dirt out till proper remedies could be applied, he mounted Joyce's
+pony, and the cavalcade swept on once more, leaving the appointed
+cow-puncher behind to guard Clark Jennings.
+
+"Hullo," exclaimed Mr. Harkness suddenly, as they rode on. "I believe
+something's happening up ahead."
+
+Indeed, it seemed so. Shouts and yells and imprecations filled the air.
+
+Suddenly a volley of shots sounded, and a sharp cry rang out.
+
+"Good gracious! They're shooting to kill!" cried Rob, dashing forward.
+
+Mr. Harkness and the cow-punchers were close on his heels.
+
+It was a strange scene into the midst of which they rode at top speed.
+Harry Harkness, Bill Simmons, Jeb Cotton and Frank Price each had their
+ponies "backed" on their lariats, and at the end of each taut, stretched
+rope lay a dark object, rolling about and muttering angry imprecations.
+
+Round the group rode the Boy Scouts, yelling at the top of their voices
+and cheering vociferously. And no wonder. At the end of the different
+lariats lay four cattle raiders, their clumsy disguises dragged half
+off, giving a grotesque appearance to them.
+
+The captives were examined one by one, and found to be Hank Handcraft,
+Bill Bender, Jess Randell and old man Jennings. None of them would say
+a word except profanity, and so they were each tied and left, while the
+cow-punchers and victorious Boy Scouts set out to round up the crazed
+mavericks. The steers had now scattered in every direction, and getting
+them into a bunch was no slight job. Of the rest of the cattle raiders
+no trace could be found. It was learned afterward that they had galloped
+off when the Boy Scouts roped their leaders, and they made good their
+escape later across the border. The Boy Scouts, however, had not escaped
+lightly. Several of them had minor wounds, none serious, where the
+bullets of the cowardly raiders had struck them. It took a good hour or
+more to round up the cattle and quiet them, and then a sort of general
+inspection was made of the ranch forces. This resulted in a startling
+discovery. No Tubby Hopkins was to be found.
+
+"Who saw him last?" asked Rob.
+
+"I did," said Jeb Cotton. "He was riding off after a tall fake Indian."
+
+"Any one see him since?"
+
+No, nobody had.
+
+At this moment, while things looked grave, there came a sudden yell, off
+in the distance. A few minutes later Tubby's rotund form appeared. To
+the boys' amazement, the fat boy led behind him a mounted figure, bound
+up like a valuable parcel, with fold on fold of rawhide.
+
+"Why, Tubby, wherever have you been?" demanded Rob.
+
+"On special duty," announced the fat boy importantly. "I have made a
+prisoner of war."
+
+"What! Why, how?" gasped Merritt.
+
+"Who is it?" shouted Merritt, edging round to get a look at the muffled
+prisoner.
+
+Mr. Harkness turned his searchlight in the captive's face. In vain the
+fellow tried to bury his features in the folds of his blanket. His
+attempts at concealment were useless. A shout of amazement went up as
+Rob and Merritt recognized the face of Tubby's captive.
+
+It was Jack Curtiss!
+
+Arriving unexpectedly at the Jennings ranch that evening, he had been
+persuaded to take part in the raid. Knowing little about riding, the
+former bully of Hampton Academy had boastfully declared he would
+outride any of the raiders. He had been accommodated with a pony and had
+taken part in the onslaught which had had such an unexpected conclusion.
+Tubby, carried away by excitement, had chased the huddled figure, little
+knowing whom the blanket shrouded. Suddenly Jack Curtiss's pony
+stumbled, throwing the bully headlong. Tubby had immediately pressed his
+rifle to the fallen figure's head with the curt command:
+
+"Shut up!"
+
+As soon as his astonished eyes had recognized Jack Curtiss, he saw a
+fine chance to redeem himself as a hero in the eyes of the Boy Scouts.
+Tricing Jack up with his lariat, he had led him back in triumph to the
+rest.
+
+"Hooray, Tubby, I didn't think you had it in you!" cried Merritt,
+clapping the fat boy on the back.
+
+"Hum! I don't show all my good qualities at once," remarked Tubby,
+grandiloquently strutting about.
+
+"I wonder what you'd have done if it had been a real Indian?" laughed
+Harry Harkness.
+
+"Just the same--just the same," rejoined Tubby.
+
+A roar of laughter greeted the stout youth's complacent remark, but it
+was suddenly checked as a horseman came dashing up to the party.
+
+"Hullo, what's up now?" exclaimed Mr. Harkness amazedly, as the rider
+drew rein almost at his feet.
+
+"It's an Indian!" exclaimed Merritt.
+
+"Another fake," declared Tubby sagely.
+
+But this time it was a real Indian, and he drew Mr. Harkness aside and
+spoke some rapid words. The rancher's face showed traces of great
+excitement, although his voice was calm enough as he turned to the
+interested group, after some moments of conversation with the red man.
+
+"Ray and Sumner, you join Joyce back there and take these prisoners to
+the ranch, and see that they are kept under strong guard," he ordered.
+
+"What! Aren't we going back?" inquired Rob.
+
+"No, my boy. I have grave news. The Moquis have rebelled against Black
+Cloud's authority, and Mr. Mayberry is a prisoner in their camp."
+
+"Is he in danger?"
+
+"He is in the gravest peril. Only prompt action can save his life. Such
+is the message Black Cloud gave this Indian to bring to me."
+
+A few moments later Rob, mounted on a pony previously ridden by old man
+Jennings, a tough, wiry little cayuse, was riding beside Mr. Harkness,
+listening eagerly to the details of his kind-hearted friend's
+predicament. Behind them spurred the Boy Scouts and the few cow-punchers
+remaining after a guard had been detailed. Minutes counted, as they well
+knew, and no rider in the party spared his pony as they pressed rapidly
+forward, under the Indian's guidance, for the valley of the snake
+dance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE.
+
+
+About a deep pit, filled to the brim with red-hot, glowing coals, swayed
+a long line of naked, copper-colored bodies. The glow of the flaming
+torches illuminated weirdly the surroundings. Steep, rocky walls, bare
+of timber or vegetation, and the flat, basin-like floor of the deep
+depression in the mountains formed the secret valley of the Moqui snake
+dancers.
+
+In lines behind the braves, who were swaying their lithe bodies so
+rhythmically above the red-hot pit, were grouped scores of stolid-faced
+Indians. By not the twitch of a single muscle did they display the
+frenzy that was already at work within them, but their beady, dark eyes
+glittered as they watched the weird gyrations of the swaying line above
+the fire.
+
+All at once a low chant arose from the line. Its regular rhythm and
+booming inflection marked it as being of religious character. Steadily
+it grew in volume, till half the Indians in that rock-bound basin in the
+hills were intoning it.
+
+As the line of chief chanters swayed back and forth, from time to time
+the firelight gleamed on a row of earthen vessels, quaintly illuminated,
+which stood behind them.
+
+Suddenly one of the dancers turned, and while the shrieks of his fellows
+grew more and more frenzied, he plunged his hand into the mouth of one
+of the vessels. He drew his arm forth again, embellished by a hideous
+ornament--a writhing, struggling diamond-back rattler!
+
+The creature's flat head darted at the man's face, and its fangs seemed
+to bury themselves in his arm, but his bronze form danced more furiously
+than ever, and the singing grew louder and more frenzied. The Moqui had
+reached a pitch of exaltation in which the venom of the serpent was
+harmless to him.
+
+As the other Indians witnessed the sight their expression of stoicism
+changed as if by magic. The excitement of the dance was upon them.
+Suddenly a blood-curdling yell echoed against the rock-bound walls.
+
+A young brave, one of those who had been seated in the front row of the
+onlookers, sprang to his feet. He cast off his blanket with a shout,
+standing upright in the firelight, a nude figure of bronze. The play of
+his muscles showed plain as day in the glare of the glowing pit.
+Straight up to the earthen jars he gyrated, chanting the refrain of the
+weird ritual.
+
+Uttering a wild screech, he plunged his arm up to the elbow into its
+wriggling, deadly contents, and drew forth a vicious-looking sidewinder,
+or desert rattlesnake--a distinct species from the big diamond-back--and
+even more deadly.
+
+Without the slightest hesitation, he thrust the monster's spade-shaped
+head into his mouth, and with one clean bite severed it. He then spat it
+forth into the glowing pit, where it fell hissing.
+
+[Illustration: Uttering a wild screech, he drew forth a vicious-looking
+desert rattlesnake.]
+
+This was the signal for yet wilder frenzies on the part of the Indians.
+One after another the young braves cast off their blankets and rushed
+forward to repeat the nauseous performance of the snake eater. The
+ground at the feet of the chanters of the ritual was littered with limp
+reptiles' bodies. An overpowering, musky stench arose on the air, the
+odor of scores of burnt envenomed heads.
+
+In the midst of that maddened throng there was but one quiet, unmoved
+countenance, and that was that of a bearded man, who stood back some
+distance in the shadows. He eyed the ceremonies with a look that was
+half contempt and half pity. But he made no motion to interfere, nor did
+he, in fact, move at all. And for a very good reason. He was bound hand
+and foot to a post.
+
+His face was white as ashes under its deep bronze, but not from fear,
+for not a tremor crossed his features. Perhaps a deep wound on the back
+of his head accounted for it. But Jeffries Mayberry--for our readers
+must have already recognized the Indian agent--never knew less fear than
+he experienced as he stood at that moment, captive among a dangerous
+tribe, rendered doubly formidable as they were by copious doses of
+cheap liquor and religious frenzy. The Indian agent knew well that the
+rattlers which the young braves were beheading were far less harmful
+than the human beings, of whom he was, perhaps, the only self-possessed
+one in that rocky bowl.
+
+But if Jeffries Mayberry gazed on the ceremonies with contempt, mingled
+with pity, there was another in the valley who regarded them with almost
+similar feelings. That person was Black Cloud. The old chieftain had
+made as stiff a fight as he dared for Jeffries Mayberry's liberation,
+but had been hooted and jeered down. Diamond Snake was now in full
+control of the passions and adulation of the tribe, and Black Cloud, the
+only friend Jeffries Mayberry had within it, at that moment gazed
+powerlessly on the snake dance. One friendly turn, however, he had been
+able to do for his white friend, and that was to dispatch the messenger
+to the ranch of Mr. Harkness. But as Black Cloud, not daring to raise a
+voice of protest, gazed on the dance, his mind was busy with intense
+speculation. Even in the event of Mr. Harkness having been reached, it
+was doubtful if the rancher would arrive in time. The old Indian
+recognized the symptoms of an approaching climax in the ceremonies, and
+what that climax was to be he guessed only too well. No white man had
+ever seen the snake dance of the Moquis and lived to tell of it, if his
+presence were known. That Jeffries Mayberry was to share the fate of
+many another unfortunate victim in the tribe's past history, was what
+Black Cloud feared. That his fears were well grounded we shall presently
+see.
+
+Suddenly the frenzy died down with the same rapidity with which it had
+arisen. Above the rim of the rocky basin the silvery edge of the new
+moon had shown. The height of the excitement was at hand.
+
+Diamond Snake stepped forward from his place in the row of chanters and
+began to address the tribe in a high, not unmusical voice. As Jeffries
+Mayberry gazed at his almost faultless form, gleaming like polished
+bronze in the glare of the fiery pit, he realized what an influence
+this fine-looking, fiery young Indian must sway among his people. His
+talk was listened to with deep attention, and seemed to be impassioned
+and fervid to the last degree.
+
+Although Diamond Snake spoke fast in his excitement, the Indian agent
+managed to pick out enough of the sense here and there to make out that,
+as he had suspected, he himself was the subject of the chief's address.
+
+Had he been in any doubt of this, his uncertainty would soon have been
+dissipated, for all at once every eye in that assemblage was turned on
+him with a baleful, malignant glare. If Jeffries Mayberry had ever felt
+one ray of hope, it died out of even his brave heart in that instant.
+
+"Well, I guess Indians are all they say they are, after all," he thought
+to himself. "Just to think that, after all I've done for those rascals,
+they've no more gratitude for me than that! Go on, stare away!"
+
+Jeffries Mayberry fairly shouted these last words.
+
+"I wish, though," he continued to himself, while the young chief's voice
+went on addressing his people, "I wish, though, that they'd turned
+Ranger loose. I kind of hate to think of him ever being an Indian's
+horse, for of all maltreaters of horse flesh, they are the worst."
+
+He turned his head--the only portion of his body which was free to
+move--and gazed back into the shadows where he knew Ranger was tied. For
+hours after his capture the splendid horse had fretted and raged, but
+now he had grown quiet.
+
+"Poor old fellow, they've broken his spirit!" thought Jeffries Mayberry.
+Which goes to show--in the light of what was to come--that a man can get
+"pretty close," as the saying is, to a horse and yet not know him.
+
+Mayberry could not forbear winking back a little moisture that arose in
+his eyes as he saw the well-known form of his horse dimly outlined in
+the darkness behind him. Ranger's head was abjectly hanging down. His
+whole attitude spoke dejection. As Jeffries Mayberry had said, the
+horse indeed seemed to be spirit-broken.
+
+All at once, while Mayberry's mind was busy with these thoughts, the
+young chief ceased his oratory, and the moment for action appeared at
+last to have arrived. With a concerted yell, the band of naked warriors
+who had chanted the solemn ritual of the snake dance rushed at the
+Indian agent. Even in that trying moment he did not flinch. He gazed at
+them unmoved, as they cast him loose from the post, and then instantly
+rebound his hands. His legs, however, they left free.
+
+Strange to say, the dominant feeling in Jeffries Mayberry's mind at that
+moment was one of curiosity. He wondered what they were going to do with
+him. For one instant a shudder passed through his frame. The fiery pit!
+Could they mean to thrust him into that?
+
+Such, however, was evidently not their intention, for they led him round
+to the farther side of the glowing coals, past the rows of seated
+Indians and squaws, who growled and spat at him as he passed.
+
+"You ungrateful bunch of dogs!" shouted Mayberry, fairly stung into
+speech. "I hope after I'm gone you'll get what is coming to you!"
+
+If only the soldiers would come, he thought; but realized that without
+him to guide them it would take the troopers hours, perhaps days, to
+find the secret valley. No, there was no hope from that quarter. It
+should be explained here that, although Mr. Mayberry knew about the
+Indian messenger, he had little faith in the ultimate arrival of Mr.
+Harkness and the Boy Scouts. They _might_ come, but it would be too
+late. However, any one would judge Jeffries Mayberry's character very
+much awry who should conclude that there was any bitterness in his soul.
+He accepted his fate as a brave man should, without complaint.
+
+"Now what are they going to do?" he thought, as the young braves, having
+led him past the hissing, spitting ranks of the squaws, arraigned him
+close to the edge of the pit, which now lay between him and the crowd
+of cruel faces beyond. His eyes pierced the darkness keenly, but the
+glare thrown up at his feet prevented him seeing whether or not Ranger
+still occupied his same position.
+
+Jeffries Mayberry was not to be left long in doubt as to what his fate
+was to be. A shudder ran through even his strong soul as he saw what the
+inhuman ingenuity of the Moquis had contrived for his execution.
+
+His legs, which had remained free, were rapidly bound, and he was
+forcibly thrown upon his face. As he measured his length, the chanting
+began once more, and the hand of Diamond Snake himself dived into the
+biggest of the earthen snake jars. He withdrew it, clasping the largest
+rattler that Jeffries Mayberry had ever seen,--an immense creature of
+the diamond-back species, fully eight feet long.
+
+As Mayberry's eyes encountered the leaden glint of the deadly rattler's
+dull orbs, he felt that this was the beginning of the end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE.
+
+
+Amid wild yells from the assemblage on the farther side of the pit, the
+young brave who had attained temporary ascendency over the tribe cast
+the snake down on the ground before the recumbent form of the Indian
+agent. The reptile at first appeared dazed, and made no move, hostile or
+otherwise. Presently, however, as a deep hush fell over the Indians
+gazing on the scene, the creature began to sound his rattle.
+
+It was a dull, "horny" sound, like the rattling of dried peas in a
+bladder. The veins on Mayberry's forehead swelled as he made a desperate
+effort to burst his bonds, but the green hide held like iron, and he
+realized that all resistance was useless. Breathing a prayer, he
+resigned himself for what was to follow. Suddenly the serpent seemed to
+become endowed with furious rage. It lashed its mottled tail, and then
+carefully gauging its distance from the captive, coiled itself for the
+death strike.
+
+Not a sound was to be heard above the deep, expectant hush, as the red
+glow fell on the strange, cruel scene: the agonized man, helpless, and
+the flat, triangular head of the deadly reptile, drawn back as if to
+give greater force to its death blow.
+
+The Indian agent, as he had abundantly shown, was no coward, nor was his
+a heart to be stirred by any ordinary ordeal. But the cruel suspense
+that now ensued broke down even his iron nerves. As he gazed like a
+fascinated bird into the leaden eyes of the menacing rattler, his
+courage faltered, and he uttered a despairing cry.
+
+It was answered by a cruel jeer from the frenzied Indians. In the tense
+excitement none of them had, however, noticed the first moves in an act
+that was destined presently to change the whole complexion of the scene.
+
+Old Black Cloud knew that the agent's heart was wrapped up in his horse.
+So far as any one knew, Mayberry had neither relative nor close friend
+in the world. In the Indian's eyes, then, the captive would surely wish
+his horse near him in the hour of his doom.
+
+For one as skilled in silent movement as the old chief, it was an easy
+matter to slip from his place in the shadows at the rear of the
+fascinated horde, and with a couple of deft strokes of his knife set
+Ranger at liberty. Then he silently stole back, and was seated in his
+former place in a less space of time than it took Ranger to realize that
+he was free.
+
+The captive's despairing cry reached the horse's ears, and he knew his
+master's voice.
+
+While the mocking laugh of the tribe was still echoing from the rocks,
+four iron-shod hoofs struck the earth in a mighty leap, and Ranger
+alighted heavily in the midst of the amazed throng. With yells and cries
+of terror, the Indians, who did not know what had occurred, were bowled
+over right and left. One young brave lay groaning with a pair of broken
+ribs. Another's arm was snapped where Ranger's hoofs had struck.
+
+Without pausing one instant, the animal, whose only anxiety was to reach
+Jeffries Mayberry's side, once more shook his head and, with a shrill
+whinny, sprang forward. This leap brought him over the heads of the red
+men, to the very brink of the fiery pit.
+
+Overcoming his natural dread of fire--a far greater terror to horses
+than almost any other--Ranger gathered his clean-cut limbs for a mighty
+leap. In one clean jump he cleared the glowing coals. Diamond Snake and
+his attendant masters of ceremonies had not, in the brief space of time
+allotted to them for comprehension, made out what was occurring on the
+opposite side of the pit.
+
+They had not the slightest warning, therefore, when, through the lurid
+glow, the form of Ranger, crimsoned by the reflection, came leaping like
+a thunderbolt.
+
+Over went Diamond Snake, toppling backward to avoid the terrible hoofs.
+With a yell of superstitious terror, the other "priests" gave way.
+Right and left they ran, shouting that the Great Spirit had sent an
+infernal messenger among them.
+
+But above all the shrieks, and confusion, and angry shouts rang out one
+terrible cry. It issued from the lips of Diamond Snake. The hind hoofs
+of the alighting horse had struck him, and, as has been said, he toppled
+backward.
+
+Too late he saw behind him the glowing pit of fiery coals. Nerving every
+muscle in his sinewy frame, the young Moqui warrior strove to avert his
+doom, but try as he would he could not check his impetus.
+
+He reached the edge of the pit, and with one dreadful cry pitched over
+backward. For a brief space the red glow grew blackened where he had
+fallen, but an instant later the intense heat had consumed him, and
+nothing remained to mark the end of the ambitious young Moqui.
+
+At the moment that Ranger had alighted, the rattlesnake, terrified by
+the near proximity of the trampling hoofs, released its body as if a
+steel spring had been set free, and gave its death strike. But as the
+poison-laden fangs drove toward him, Jeffries Mayberry jerked his head
+to one side. The rattler had missed. Before it could gather itself for a
+second attack, it lay, a trampled mass, under Ranger's hoofs. The horse
+whinnied with pleasure as it gazed at its master. Then it stamped with
+impatience as it received no response. For the first and last time in
+his life, Jeffries Mayberry had fainted.
+
+With a howl of rage, like the angry voice of a storm, the Moquis,
+gathering up their weapons, rushed forward to avenge themselves for the
+tragic death of Diamond Snake. But they had not reached the edge of the
+fiery pit before a loud cry halted them. It was Black Cloud. The old
+Indian stood upright upon a bowlder, and pointed to the entrance of the
+rocky bowl.
+
+"Now will my brothers listen to the voice of reason?" he shouted above
+the tumult.
+
+A chorus of jeers and shouts greeted him. The mind of the tribe was a
+single one in that moment. The death of Jeffries Mayberry, in the same
+pit as that into which his steed had cast the popular young Diamond
+Snake, was their raging desire.
+
+"Then look!" rang out the voice of Black Cloud, as he pointed to the
+rocky path at the westerly side of the bowl.
+
+As the eyes of the redskins followed the patriarch's pointing finger, a
+perfect howl went up once more. The moonlight illumined the figure of a
+solitary horseman.
+
+A score of rifles were instantly leveled at him, but as the weapons came
+to the marksmen's shoulders, the lone rider vanished as suddenly as he
+had appeared.
+
+"Fools!" shouted Black Cloud, as the Moquis, with cries of rage, pressed
+on to Jeffries Mayberry's side, "that horseman is the forerunner of the
+white man's vengeance!"
+
+As he spoke, a rifle cracked, and the noble old chief vanished from the
+rock. Apparently a bullet from the rifle of one of his own followers had
+felled him. But, as a matter of fact, Black Cloud, with native cunning,
+had perceived that in the mood his rebellious followers then were, his
+safest plan was to keep out of sight. As the bullet hummed past his
+ear, therefore, he toppled from the rock as if dead. From behind the big
+bowlder he watched the events that were to follow.
+
+A young brave, anxious to earn the plaudits of his tribesmen by being
+the instrument of vengeance on Mayberry, rushed forward, and throwing
+himself on the unconscious man, seized him by the waist and was about to
+swing him into the flaming pit, when, with a shrill whinny of rage,
+Ranger's forefeet struck him down. He lay breathing heavily, an ugly
+wound gaping in his head. As if maddened by this, the great horse
+plunged, striking and kicking, into the crowd of hated Indians, bowling
+over and injuring several. But the temporary panic thus created lasted
+but a minute.
+
+A volley was fired at the noble figure of the raging horse, and he fell,
+still fighting, by his master's side.
+
+At the same instant a young redskin sprang forward with an uplifted
+"agency" axe. He raised it above his head, and was about to bury it in
+the horse's skull, when something struck the axe and sent it whizzing
+out of his hand. Simultaneously a sharp crack sounded from the upper end
+of the rock bowl.
+
+Shouts of alarm sounded on all sides. The Moquis realized they were
+attacked, and that it was a bullet that had sent the axe spinning out of
+the murderous young brave's hand.
+
+"Hooray!"
+
+The cry rang out loudly above the Indian whoops and cries, as Rob Blake
+swept down the rocky trail, followed by the Boy Scouts, cheering as if
+their throats would split.
+
+Right and left the Moquis went down under their ponies' hoofs, too
+terrified by the very suddenness of the attack to offer any resistance.
+A few half-hearted shots were fired, and one or two sombreros were
+drilled, but, aside from that, no one was injured. The arrival of Mr.
+Harkness and his cow-punchers ended what little resistance there had
+been. It was soon over, and the Moquis herded in a sullen, defiant band
+at the lower end of the bowl.
+
+Rob and his friends hastened forward to Jeffries Mayberry's side, and
+cut his bonds; and the first thing that the rescued man gazed upon when
+he recovered consciousness was a circle of friendly faces.
+
+"Well, Mayberry," burst out Mr. Harkness, "I told you so. I hate to say
+it, but I told you so. If it hadn't been for the Boy Scouts here, we'd
+never have saved you."
+
+"No, I guess not, Harkness," breathed the agent, "and this is not the
+place to tell you all how I feel. But, but----"
+
+His voice faltered as he gazed at Ranger, who still lay on the ground.
+Blinky and some of the cow-punchers had been examining his injuries.
+
+"Is Ranger seriously hurt?"
+
+The agent's throat sounded dry. He could hardly bring himself to ask the
+question.
+
+"No, he'll be around in a while," announced Blinky; "only a tendon on
+the off front leg is sprained. He'll carry a few scars, though."
+
+And so it proved, for, though Ranger was soon as well as ever, he
+carried with him to his last days the marks of that night. But his
+owner, as you may imagine, treasured every one of them, for each blemish
+spoke to him of his horse's affection and nobility.
+
+"Hullo, here come the soldiers!" exclaimed Tubby suddenly, with that
+fleshy youth's usual indifferent manner.
+
+A bugle call and a loud cheer announced the news at the same moment.
+
+"So they are!" exclaimed Mr. Mayberry, who by this time was standing
+upright, although he still had to lean weakly on the shoulder of Mr.
+Harkness.
+
+"A good thing you didn't wait for them," remarked Blinky; "they'd have
+come too late."
+
+"That was not their fault," put in Mr. Harkness. "The messenger I sent
+to Sentinel Peak could not have reached there more than an hour or two
+ago. They must have ridden like the wind."
+
+Indeed, as the bronzed troopers clattered, cheering, into the rocky
+basin, their steaming, dripping horses bore ample testimony to the pace
+they had kept up.
+
+"Confounded luck, arriving just too late for the music!" exclaimed the
+young officer at their head, after first greetings had been exchanged.
+"I see, though, that you have handled the situation well."
+
+"Yes, thanks to the Boy Scouts," said Mr. Harkness.
+
+"Ah, that is an organization of which I have often heard," observed the
+soldier. "They are destined to do great work for our country in the
+future."
+
+"We hope so," said Rob simply.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Little more is left to be told of the Boy Scouts' adventures on the
+range. The rebellious Moquis, thoroughly cowed by their lesson, went
+peaceably back to the reservation, and accepted Black Cloud once more as
+their chief. Their break from the place set aside for them, though, was
+paid for by the stoppage of more than one privilege. In course of time
+Mr. Mayberry recovered some of his faith in the Indian character, but
+even he admits that his optimism has been severely shaken.
+
+Possibly, if you were to pay a visit to the tribe, you might be tempted
+to ask who a certain graceful young squaw is, whose buckskin garments
+are literally covered with wonderful bead work, and round whose slender
+neck hang so many chains of red, yellow, amber and blue globules that
+you might be inclined to think it would make her stoop-shouldered.
+
+If you asked her her name you would be told that she is Susyjan. She is
+regarded as the most attractive young squaw in the tribe, and her
+fortunate husband will have to give her old father many ponies and
+blankets before he can hope to win her hand. The source of Susyjan's
+beady splendor, however, has always, as you may imagine, remained a
+mystery to the tribe.
+
+Clark Jennings and his unworthy accomplices were tried in due course for
+their offenses against the law, and received various heavy sentences. In
+a Western community few more serious crimes, for obvious reasons, can
+be committed than cattle stealing.
+
+The days following the surrender of the renegade tribe were happy ones
+for the young Eastern scouts. In due course of time, the uniforms Rob
+had ordered for the Ranger Patrol arrived, and the organization is now
+one of the most flourishing in the B. S. of A.
+
+Hunting trips were organized and many excursions made into the
+mountains. The boys, too, shared in the excitement of a round-up, and
+proved themselves of use in many ways. Altogether, the Boy Scouts has
+become a name to conjure with in that part of Arizona.
+
+What became of Silver Tip?
+
+Well, the story of how Rob had Silver Tip at his mercy, and let the huge
+brute go, has become a ranch classic. This is no place to relate it at
+length, but one day on a mountain hunt the monarch of the hills and the
+boy who had once rushed wildly upon the monster's shaggy form, met face
+to face.
+
+Did Silver Tip recognize the lad? Who can tell? Animals possess many
+faculties and instincts we do not credit them with. Be that as it may,
+it seemed to the imaginative Rob that the monster's eyes bore a craven
+look, as if he realized that judgment was come upon him. Rob stood alone
+upon a rocky ledge. Below him the great brute gazed upward, in the
+position he had frozen into on his first discovery of the young hunter.
+Rob raised his heavy rifle to his shoulder. The great creature was at
+his mercy. He paused an instant and then slowly lowered the weapon
+again.
+
+"Go on, old Silver Tip!" he said. "Let some one else wipe out your
+wicked old life."
+
+Tubby was highly indignant when he heard of this.
+
+"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, "you ought to have thought of me, Rob. I've
+been hearing about bear steak ever since I've been out here, and now
+I've lost about the only chance I've ever had to stick my teeth into
+one."
+
+One day a letter came to the ranch house which caused several long faces
+to be drawn. It announced the opening, within a week, of the Hampton
+Academy.
+
+And so--as all good things have to draw to a close--the happy, eventful
+days of the Boy Scouts on the Range ended. But had they realized it, the
+exciting scenes through which they had passed were only a milestone in
+their adventurous lives.
+
+We shall meet our young friends again, and follow them through many more
+stirring incidents and scenes in the next volume of this series. Some of
+these will be connected with the wonderful new science of aerial
+navigation.
+
+This new installment of their adventures will be called: THE BOY
+SCOUTS AND THE ARMY AIRSHIP.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+=Reasons why you should obtain a Catalogue of our Publications=
+
+_A postal to us will place it in your hands._
+
+
+1. You will possess a comprehensive and classified list of all the best
+standard books published, at prices less than offered by others.
+
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+Fiction, Romance, Travel, Adventure, Humor, Science, History, Religion,
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+
+3. You will be able to purchase books at prices within your reach; as
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+
+4. You will save considerable money by taking advantage of our
+SPECIAL DISCOUNTS, which we offer to those whose purchases are
+large enough to warrant us in making a reduction.
+
+HURST & CO., _Publishers_, 395, 397, 399 Broadway, New York.
+
+
+
+
+BOY SCOUT SERIES
+
+BY
+
+LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON
+
+MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS
+
+Cloth Bound Price, 50c per volume.
+
+
+=The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol.=
+
+A fascinating narrative of the doings of some bright boys who become
+part of the great Boy Scout movement. The first of a series dealing with
+this organization, which has caught on like wild fire among healthy boys
+of all ages and in all parts of the country.
+
+While in no sense a text-book, the volume deals, amid its exciting
+adventures, with the practical side of Scouting. To Rob Blake and his
+companions in the Eagle Patrol, surprising, and sometimes perilous
+things happen constantly. But the lads, who are, after all, typical of
+most young Americans of their type, are resourceful enough to overcome
+every one of their dangers and difficulties.
+
+How they discover the whereabouts of little Joe, the "kid" of the
+patrol, by means of smoke telegraphy and track his abductors to their
+disgrace; how they assist the passengers of a stranded steamer and foil
+a plot to harm and perhaps kill an aged sea-captain, one must read the
+book to learn. A swift-moving narrative of convincing interest and
+breathless incident.
+
+Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.
+
+Hurst & Co., Publishers New York
+
+
+
+
+BOY SCOUT SERIES
+
+BY
+
+LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON
+
+MODERN BOY SCOUT STORIES FOR BOYS
+
+Cloth Bound, Price 50c per volume.
+
+
+=The Boy Scouts on the Range.=
+
+Connected with the dwellings of the vanished race of cliff-dwellers was
+a mystery. Who so fit to solve it as a band of adventurous Boy Scouts?
+The solving of the secret and the routing of a bold band of cattle
+thieves involved Rob Blake and his chums, including "Tubby" Hopkins, in
+grave difficulties.
+
+There are few boys who have not read of the weird snake dance and other
+tribal rites of Moquis. In this volume, the habits of these fast
+vanishing Indians are explained in interesting detail. Few boys' books
+hold more thrilling chapters than those concerning Rob's captivity among
+the Moquis.
+
+Through the fascinating pages of the narrative also stalks, like a grim
+figure of impending tragedy, the shaggy form of Silver Tip, the giant
+grizzly. In modern juvenile writing, there is little to be found as
+gripping as the scene in which Rob and Silver Tip meet face to face. The
+boy is weaponless and,--but it would not be fair to divulge the
+termination of the battle. A book which all Boy Scouts should secure and
+place upon their shelves to be read and re-read.
+
+Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.
+
+Hurst & Co., Publishers New York
+
+
+
+
+Bungalow Boys Series
+
+BY
+
+DEXTER J. FORRESTER
+
+NEW MODERN STORIES OF OUTDOOR LIFE.
+
+Cloth Bound Price, 50c per volume.
+
+
+=THE BUNGALOW BOYS.=
+
+The first of a new up-to-date series concerning the absorbing doings of
+Tom and Jack Dacre and their chums of Audubon Academy. The lure of the
+big woods and the call of the rod and gun are delightfully set forth in
+these volumes.
+
+The first one deals with life in the wilder parts of Maine. Wild as the
+region into which the boys penetrate, accompanied by their professor,
+turns out to be, they find that there are bold, unscrupulous enemies
+even there. Nate Trulliber and his son Jeff prove to be formidable
+neighbors in more senses than one.
+
+For instance the lost lead vein which is one of the objects of the boys'
+quest is associated in a strange way with this Trulliber and his evil
+companions. The plots of these men are, however, frustrated in a clever
+manner by the boys; but not without their involving themselves in grave
+difficulties. Danger too threatens them, as notably when Tom is
+imprisoned in the mountain cave with every prospect of being speedily
+drowned if help does not soon come. The source from which aid finally
+proceeds is as mysterious as the character of the lonely hermit who for
+a time is mistaken by the boys for an enemy. Not until the end of the
+book do they learn how utterly they were mistaken, in his character.
+
+Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.
+
+HURST & CO., Publishers NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+Dreadnought Boys Series
+
+BY
+
+Capt. WILBUR LAWTON.
+
+=Modern Stories of the New Navy.=
+
+Cloth Bound Price, 50c per volume.
+
+
+=The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice.=
+
+How many times have you paused to gaze provided you live in a maritime
+town of course, at Uncle Sam's grim, gray sea-fighters swinging at their
+anchors, or steaming majestically by? Haven't you thought then that you
+would like to know something of the lives of the servers of their
+country who pass the best part of their adventurous lives within those
+steel walls?
+
+There are no books published which will tell you more of the new
+navy,--of the men, the ships, the huge guns, the submarine auxiliaries
+and all the hundred and one things that go to make up the fascination of
+the naval seaman's life, than these volumes.
+
+In the first volume of the series which bears the above title Ned Strong
+and Herc Taylor make their debut in Uncle Sam's navy. Of course they
+have to endure much rough joking. Ned, however, proves so handy with his
+fists in a notable set-to with the ship's bully that the boys soon set
+themselves on a footing. From that moment on adventures come thick and
+fast. At target practice Herc--by a mean trick of his enemy becomes a
+living target for a twelve inch gun. A flare-back in the forward turret
+of the Dreadnought on which they are serving gives the lads their
+longed-for opportunity to show the stuff they are made of. Real books
+for real boys.
+
+Sold by Booksellers Everywhere.
+
+HURST & CO., Publishers NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+Motor Rangers Series
+
+By MARVIN WEST
+
+OUTDOOR LIFE STORIES FOR MODERN BOYS
+
+Cloth Bound Price, 50c per volume.
+
+
+=The Motor Rangers' Lost Mine.=
+
+A new series dealing with an idea altogether original in juvenile
+fiction,--the adventures of a party of bright, enterprising youngsters
+in a splendid motor car. Their first trip takes them to the dim and
+mysterious land of Lower California.
+
+Naturally, as one would judge from the title, the lost mine, which
+proves to be Nat Trevor's rightful inheritance,--occupies much of the
+interest of the book. But the mine was in the possession of enemies so
+powerful and wealthy that it taxed the boys' resources to the uttermost
+to overcome them. How they did so makes absorbing reading.
+
+In this book also, the young motor rangers solve the mystery of the
+haunted Mexican cabin, and exterminate for all time a strange terror of
+the mountains which has almost devastated a part of the peninsula.
+
+The Motor Rangers too, have an exciting encounter with Mexican cowboys,
+which beginning comically, comes very near having a serious termination
+for all hands. Emphatically "third speed" books.
+
+Sold by Booksellers Everywhere. Hurst & Co., Publishers New York
+
+
+
+
+The Oakdale Series
+
+By Morgan Scott
+
+HIGH CLASS COPYRIGHTED STORIES FOR BOYS
+
+Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 60c a Volume
+
+
+=Ben Stone at Oakdale=
+
+BY MORGAN SCOTT
+
+12MO., CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. PRICE 60c
+
+Never in the history of juvenile fiction have copyrighted books of this
+class been sold at a price so sensational, for beyond dispute the
+Oakdale Stories are of the highest grade, such as other publishers
+market to retail at $1.25 or $1.50 a volume. In no respect, save in
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+literary finish, and in the clean, healthy, yet fascinating, nature of
+the stories they are destined to take rank with the works of the masters
+of fiction for the modern youth. The first volume is a narrative of
+school life and football, which, while in no way sensational will cast a
+spell almost hypnotic upon every young reader, from which he will find
+it impossible to escape until he has read through to the last word of
+the last chapter. The tale of the struggles of Ben Stone, a boy
+misunderstood, an outcast, a pariah, will excite the sympathy of all;
+and his final triumph over adversity, the scheming of an enemy, and the
+seemingly malign rebuffs of fate, will be hailed with joy.
+
+FOR SALE WHEREVER BOOKS ARE SOLD, OR SENT POSTPAID UPON RECEIPT OF 60c
+BY
+
+HURST & COMPANY, 395 Broadway, NEW YORK
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+
+
+
+The Oakdale Series
+
+By Morgan Scott
+
+
+High Class Copyrighted Stories for Boys
+
+Cloth Bound
+
+Illustrated
+
+Price, 60 cents a Volume
+
+
+=Boys of Oakdale Academy=
+
+by Morgan Scott
+
+12mo., cloth. Illustrated. Price, 60c
+
+This is a brisk, vigorous, snappy, story in which winter
+sports--snowshoeing, skating, rabbit hunting, and such--are features. In
+the tale Rodney Grant, a young Texas cowboy, appears at Oakdale and
+attends the academy, being adjudged an imposter by the New England lads,
+who entertain a mistaken notion that all Texans swagger and bluster and
+talk in the vernacular. As Grant is quiet and gentlemanly in his bearing
+and will not, for some mysterious reason, take part in certain violent
+sports, they erroneously imagine him to be a coward; but eventually,
+through the demands of necessity and force of circumstances, the fellow
+from Texas is led to prove himself, which he does in a most effective
+manner, becoming, for the time being, at least, the hero of the village.
+This is a story of vigorous, healthy boys and their likes and dislikes;
+it is brimming over with human nature and, while true to real life, is
+as fascinating as the most imaginative yarn of adventure.
+
+For sale wherever books are sold, or sent postpaid upon receipt of 60c
+by
+Hurst & Co., 395 Broadway, New York
+
+
+
+    +----------------------------------------------+
+    |             Transcriber's Note:              |
+    |                                              |
+    | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the |
+    | original document have been preserved.       |
+    |                                              |
+    | Typographical errors corrected in the text:  |
+    |                                              |
+    | Page   26  Samuri changed to Samurai         |
+    | Page   89  struck changed to stuck           |
+    | Page  113  Charlie changed to Charley        |
+    | Page  151  croked changed to croaked         |
+    | Page  206  Jenning's changed to Jennings's   |
+    | Page  226  earthern changed to earthen       |
+    | Page  243  fandangoes changed to fandangos   |
+    | Page  297  safeest changed to safest         |
+    +----------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boy Scouts On The Range, by
+Lieut. Howard Payson
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE RANGE ***
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