The boy half expected that Braddon would stalk toward him, and demand to know what he and the old Zuni leader had been talking about so earnestly; he was bracing himself to decline to answer, when he saw the other whirl around, and hurry after the chief, evidently meaning to get that information at first hands.

"I reckon that might spell trouble for me," mused Adrian, as he walked on; and having somewhat tired of observing the strange sights of the village by now, or perhaps feeling that the company of his chums would be more agreeable, he headed toward the tent where Billie lay taking a nap in the shade, and Donald was busily engaged writing up some incident in his daily log.

Half an hour afterwards who should turn up there but Mark Braddon. When Adrian saw the big, dark-faced circus man approaching, with a set look on his countenance, he knew that there was going to be an explosion.

And he was not far wrong, either.

Donald stopped his writing, and jumping to his feet, hurried to the side of his chum, recognizing the signs of a storm when he saw them.

"See here, youngsters," said the man, in his big ba.s.s voice, while he tried to look as fierce as possible, under the impression that in this way he might send a spasm of fear and dismay to the hearts of the boys whom he addressed, "it'd be a mighty good thing for you to stop poking your noses into my business, and look after your own affairs. Get thet, don't you? Well, unless you want to find yourselves hurt rather sudden, just keep hands off, and allow me to run my own circus."

He even shook his finger threateningly at them; and somehow the action angered Donald, who was quicker to flare up than Adrian. Billie was sitting up by now, and listening, with widely distended eyes, and open mouth.

"Oh!" said Donald, "I reckon, now, you're doing all that talking about my chum advising the old chief that his medicine man was right in saying they would risk the ill will of the Manitou of the Zunis, if they took their sacred dance away from the spot where it has been done year after year for centuries, and made it the laughing stock of a rude crowd of white people at a circus. Well, the chief asked his opinion, and he had a right to give it, as any other person might."

"Yes," added Adrian just then, "of course it doesn't matter a red cent to any of us whether the chief takes up your offer or not; but I've got my opinion about whether he'd be a fool to try it, and so I told him. I don't know you, Mr. Braddon, and I'm not saying that you wouldn't deal honestly with these simple people; but I do know that they would never be the same again after they came back. That was what I asked him; and I'd do just the same again if any of the other Indians wanted to know my opinion."

The big man looked at the speaker in surprise. He had doubtless counted on being easily able to cow these young fellows, who were only boys at best, while he had a fierce look, and in his own mind at least a resistless way of domineering.

"I give you fair warning right here and now," he went on to say, furiously, "that unless you keep your hands off my personal business you're going to think you've run up against a buzz-saw. I ain't in the habit of knuckling down to a set of kids, when I plan a big thing for my show; and I won't stand for it, hear that? Why, I've got a good notion to give you a lesson right here and now."

He had a.s.sumed an att.i.tude that looked dangerous, as though his pa.s.sions had run away with his judgment; and Adrian was sorry that neither he nor Donald chanced to have anything along just at that critical moment in the way of firearms, with which to make things seem more even.

"Oh! I wouldn't do that, mister, if I was you," drawled a voice just then.

Of course it was Billie, and as all of them glanced toward the spot where he was squatted, they saw him handling his pet Marlin repeater.

Somehow the sight of that gun seemed to make the fierce showman change his mind. He shrugged his broad shoulders, and allowed a cynical smile to cross his face.

"Never mind raising that weapon, son," he called out; "on second thought I guess I'd have been a fool to lay a hand on any of you. But just keep my warning in mind, and leave my plans for amusing the public alone, will you? I give you my word you'll be sorry if you bother me any more."

He wheeled, and hurried away. Billie chuckled a little, as though amused, and as the showman turned and shot a vindictive glance back toward him it was evident he must have heard the sound, and also that it rankled in his soul.

The three boys soon had their heads together, and of course this time the subject of their talk was the man who had made such a fool of himself as to threaten Adrian, because he had spoken his mind when the old chief asked his opinion.

"He's a sure enough bad egg," Billie affirmed, and neither of the others seemed inclined to differ with him on that score, at least.

"I saw him talking to two different men awhile back," remarked Donald.

"It was after you and the chief had been having that nice little confab, Adrian; and from the way he pointed over this way several times, I got the idea in my head he was telling them about what he'd seen you doing."

"In that case then, you would know who two of his crowd might be?"

suggested the other chum, quickly.

"That's right, I do; and let me tell you both while I'm about it; because, if it seems we're just bound to have a rumpus with Braddon and his set, the sooner we spot the whole outfit the better."

"Go ahead then, Donald," urged Adrian.

"First, there was that little sawed-off we were watching awhile back; he seems to be a lively specimen, even if he is so short; and I don't fancy the cut of his jib any more'n I do that of Mr. Braddon, the showman."

"Call him Shorty, then, since we don't know his real name," remarked Billie.

"The other was that young fellow who is dressed in the loud check suit, and who might be a son of the showman, for all anybody could say to the contrary. Seems to me they do look a bit alike, eh, Ad?"

"All right, let's take that for granted, and call him Mark Braddon Jr.,"

Billie went on to say, before Adrian could give his opinion; for it seemed as if the fat chum was feeling rather lively since he had surprised his comrades by his prompt holding up of the furious showman when he was threatening violence toward Adrian.

"Then we know three of the crowd," Donald went on. "There may be others still, and we'd better keep our eyes open to pick the same out, from time to time."

"You talk as if you thought we'd sure have trouble with the bunch yet,"

remarked Adrian.

"Oh! you never can tell; but the signs all point that way right now,"

Donald went on to say; "and you know, we've been brought up to keep on our guard all the time. They might take a silly notion to try and run us out of here."

"Say, I hope not before that old dance comes off!" cried Billie, "because I've got my heart set on taking some fine snapshots of the same, and it'd grieve me a heap to have to toddle out of here before then."

"Make your mind easy, Billie," said Donald, with a firm closing of his jaws together, and a gleam in his eyes that proclaimed the spirit of the prairie boy, "we don't leave this same village until we're good and ready, no matter what Mr. Mark Braddon and his crowd think, or want us to do. And if it came to a fight, I've got an idea those several cowboys from the ranches would flock to our side, once I told 'em who I was, and that my dad owns the good old Keystone Ranch."

Adrian looked up at that, with a smile on his face.

"Now that isn't half a bad idea, Donald," he remarked, hastily; "and if I was you I'd just stroll out, and make the acquaintance of some of those same punchers. There are three of them, and they seem to be a jolly lot. Not much danger that they're in touch with Braddon in his game, whatever it may be."

"I'll do it, right away," announced Donald, as he went into the tent to strap on his belt with its dangling six-shooter, without which no cowboy would care to be seen abroad; and waving his hand to his chums, he sauntered off on his mission.

CHAPTER XXI.

A TREMENDOUS SCHEME.

Billie began to tire of lying around, and once more started out to investigate things for himself. He carried his little kodak along with him, for there were a couple of pictures he had thought of which he wanted very much to get, if the opportunity arose, and he could induce some of the Zuni boys, in their peculiar costumes, to pose for him, and he thought that would not be hard for a fellow whom his chums both said had such an insinuating, wheedling way about him.

He spent a good hour in the task, while Donald still remained absent; and Adrian put in his time in various ways, now with the horses, and again at the tent.

The one who had remained behind was somewhat surprised at seeing Billie hurrying toward the camp after a while, and to note the look of deep anxiety upon the rosy face of the fat chum.

"h.e.l.lo! there, what's been happening to you now, I wonder?" Adrian remarked, as Billie threw himself down on the ground beside him, seemingly short of breath, for he was panting heavily.

He made a gesture to indicate that after he had managed to get in half-way decent shape again, he would proceed to enlighten the stay-at-home chums; and so Adrian had to take it out for a minute or two in vague guessing.

"Chances are three to one that it's got something to do with that same Braddon?" he proceeded to say, presently, when Billie failed to start explaining.

A violent nod of the other's head announced that his first shot had hit the mark in the bull's-eye.

"Don't tell me he tackled you, and abused you in any way?" demanded Adrian, with a look of gathering anger on his face.

Billie shook his head, this time in the negative. Then he seemed to have reached the opinion that he had recovered enough of his breath to explain.