Chances are these Zunis will get considerable graft from that free-and-easy crowd."

"Among the balance of the strangers in town there's one man I've been watching, and he somehow gives me a bad feeling," remarked Adrian.

"P'raps, now, I might pick him out, and then not half try," added Donald; "just because I felt the same way about him. See here, Ad, is he that tall, domineering man, with the inky-black mustache, who looks about like the frisky gambler you see in the moving pictures of this Western country?"

"Hit it the first guess, Donald; but I took the trouble to ask a few questions about him from that smart looking young brave you saw me talking with a bit ago; and it seems that his name is Mark Braddon; and he's some sort of showman."

"Oh! you mean a circus proprietor, out here in the Wild and Woolly West to pick up novel attractions for his outfit in the East, is that it?"

demanded Donald, quickly.

"That's what he claims; and the youngster told me Braddon was trying to induce the chief to take a big party of braves, squaws and papooses, and go with him to exhibit this same rattlesnake dance in his circus. Says it would be the biggest card ever put before the public, and insure him crowded houses all through the winter in Chicago."

Donald looked grave.

"I don't like his ways, that's all I can say," he remarked, still watching the important looking man in question, who was not far away at the time, showing the family of tourists the largest cliff dwelling, with an air of proprietorship; as though he already felt that he had acquired an interest in the whole village by reason of the fact that he was daily and hourly increasing his offer of big pay, until the chief _must_ give in, and accept a contract.

"And from what you told me about these people," Adrian went on to say, gravely, "it seems to me they never could give that strange dance day after day, and have it still hold its solemn, religious character."

"Never!" declared Donald, who knew so much about these Indians of the rock dwellings; "it can be danced only once a year, at a most particular season. Everything has to be just so, the moon at a certain age, and all sorts of other conditions are to be suitable, or it loses its significance. But then money is a strong factor nowadays, and if that tempter only made his offer _big_ enough, he might get the old chief to consent."

"That would be bad enough in itself," remarked Adrian; "but between you and me, Donald, I've got a big suspicion that this circus man is something of a fake."

"You mean that he would have some other scheme up his sleeve, in trying to tempt the chief to start out with him, taking the best part of the tribe along, is that your idea, Adrian?" asked the other, earnestly; as he again cast his gaze toward the big man with the deep, loud voice, and bl.u.s.tering ways, whose manner had seemingly struck them both as peculiarly offensive.

Adrian simply nodded.

He saw Billie listening with open mouth, and eyes that were distended, as though the information regarding these suspicions on the part of his chums was thrilling him through and through; and Adrian did not think it wholly advisable to get the fat boy started in the question line, because he would never stop quizzing them.

As Donald caught his meaning, he gave him a wink and a nod, after which he dropped all mention of the dark-haired man with the loud voice, and the bold stare.

When they became tired of climbing ladders, and investigating the quaint homes of the Zuni people, the three chums went back to where they had erected their tent, and had their animals staked out so they could secure their fill of gra.s.s.

Billie, of course was hungry; it was very seldom he could be found any other way these days; and so they thought it might be wise to start a fire, and cook something in the line of food.

Some of the Zuni boys gathered around to watch their operations, but as Donald had said, these people were strictly honest, the chums had no fear of their tent being entered during their absence, and anything stolen.

While dinner was being prepared Adrian noticed that Billie was unusually quiet and thoughtful, for him. He wondered what ailed the stout chum.

Once he thought that what he and Donald had said concerning the big man with the loud voice and overbearing ways had affected Billie; and he was busying his brain in trying to figure out what sort of game the circus man could be engaged in carrying out.

Desiring to ease his mind on this score, and let him feel that after all their suspicions might not amount to anything, as the other was possibly just what he claimed to be, the proprietor of a Wild West Show, on the keen lookout for new and taking novelties to offer the public, Adrian presently introduced the matter to his companion.

"What makes you so sober, Billie; not feeling sick, I hope?" he remarked, while Donald was doing something over where the horses were tethered, and the pair of them found themselves temporarily deserted by the Zuni youths.

"What, me?" exclaimed the other, starting, and looking quickly up at the speaker; "oh, not at all, Adrian; far from it, because I never felt in better shape, only I'll be stronger after we've had our grub, of course."

"But something's worrying you, Billie!" persisted the other.

"Oh! well, I wouldn't be happy, Ad, you know, unless I was badgerin'

this old think-box of mine over something or other," answered the fat chum, with a nervous laugh.

"And what is it now?" asked Adrian, fully expecting to hear him say that he was unable to get the conversation he had heard between them concerning Mark Braddon, out of his mind, to his surprise it turned out to be a very different affair entirely.

"Why," said Billie, soberly, with three lines across his broad forehead, such as always appeared there when he found himself up against a hard proposition, "you see, Adrian, I just can't get it through my mind who he can be at all. Bothers me right along now, and the more I pound my head the worse it gets."

"But suppose you decide that he's just what he claims, and let it go at that," suggested the other.

Billie's lower jaw fell, and he turned to stare at the speaker.

"Say, now, who d'ye suppose I'm talking about?" he demanded.

"Why, that man Braddon, of course," replied Adrian.

Then Billie laughed merrily.

"Why, bless your innocent heart, Ad," he said, in his jolly way, "I wasn't bothering my head the least bit about that gruff-voiced fellow.

What's been on my nerves is the mystery we're up against."

"Mystery!" echoed Adrian, in a puzzled way; and then, as a light suddenly broke in upon him he went on to say hastily; "oh! I see now what you mean, Billie; you're still badgering your poor brain about the unknown who shot the thieving young Apache buck when he was trying to rob us; and who you think must be the same party who put that warning in the split stick at the poisoned spring?"

"That's what, Adrian!" declared the other, with a big sigh; "and it's keeping me awake nights wondering just who our unknown friend can be."

CHAPTER XX.

BILLIE AND THE SHOWMAN.

It was some time after the Broncho Rider Boys had finished their dinner that Adrian, while wandering around the village, chanced to come upon the old chief again.

As the other beckoned to him, and started a conversation, Adrian found himself irresistibly impelled presently to tell the chief what he thought about such a scheme as the one he had heard the circus man propose.

Adrian was something of a good talker; indeed, he some day expected to study to be a lawyer on this very account. And as the chief seemed glad of a chance to get some other person's opinion concerning the honesty of Braddon, and the likelihood of his keeping a contract to the letter, he asked many questions.

But of course Adrian was too wise a boy to state boldly that he believed the other to be a fakir, when he had no evidence along that line, save his own conviction backed by that of his chum, Donald; and they were supposed to be only a pair of boys, hardly capable of forming judgment on another.

He confined the line of his argument upon other grounds, and succeeded in making the old chief very uncomfortable by his questions concerning the religious nature of the famous snake dance, and whether it would not be next door to sacrilege to perform it daily, just to amuse thousands of careless white people, for the mere sake of gain.

In other words, Adrian was hinting that possibly the Great Spirit might take it as an insult to have this same ceremonial dance made a common byword among the palefaces, and visit some terrible judgment upon the heads of those who were concerned.

He even asked what the medicine man thought about the scheme, and was not surprised to learn that the Wizard Doctor violently opposed anything of the sort; and it was his opposition that had caused the arrangements to hang fire so far.

The chief seemed very friendly, and Adrian believed that he had succeeded in influencing him to go slow about making such a radical change, without in any way reflecting upon the honor of the circus proprietor.

As he turned away after this long and earnest talk with the old Zuni chief he felt impelled to look to one side, as though some influence forced him to turn his eyes that way. And just as he half expected, he discovered that Braddon had been intently observing him, possibly much of the time he and the old chief held their heart-to-heart talk.

There was a dark scowl on the strong face of the big man. He smiled in a queer way, as he saw Adrian looking toward him; and somehow the expression on his face seemed anything but agreeable.