"Well, I only hope that some day I'll be able to tell him how much we think of him for watching out for us like he has," ventured the fat chum, looking all around as he spoke, as though half hoping he might see a laughing, sun-burned face projecting from behind nearby rocks, waiting to be invited to join their circle; but nothing of the kind was visible.

Adrian happened to think of something just then, and spoke to Donald, who, not being engaged at that particular moment, arose, and slipped inside the tent.

"Whee! I wonder none of us thought of doing that before now!" burst from Billie, showing that he had noticed the movement, and instantly jumped to some conclusion concerning the same.

There was heard a sound from within, as though Donald might be turning things over in a hurried search. Then they heard him give vent to a low e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n that somehow sent a thrill of expectancy through both the chums without.

Immediately Donald came rushing into the outer air. He was gripping something in one of his hands, and half holding the same aloft, while his face was indeed a study, being both triumphant and grim at the same time, a curious combination indeed.

There was no need for him to shout aloud, and tell the others what he had discovered secreted under some of their traps in the tent; for both Adrian and Billie had eyes, and could see for themselves.

It was the sacred belt of the old Zuni medicine man, which they had seen fastened about his waist only an hour or two previous, and which he undoubtedly valued above all price, as a part of his ensignia of office-the magical belt which was believed by his people to have come down to him from the home of the Great Manitou in the Happy Hunting Grounds of the red men in the other world.

Billie tried to say something, but although his jaws were seen to work, only a queer gasping sound proceeded from between them. His very breath seemed to have been taken completely away by the astounding nature of the discovery made by the other chum, inside their tent.

It was not so bad with Adrian. He could command his speech, though almost as much staggered as poor Billie at sight of the Indian belt.

"They didn't lose any time in getting busy, did they, Donald?" was what first came into his mind to say.

"I should say not," replied the boy who held the belt. "While we were away some sneak crept into our tent here, and hid this under our traps.

You can see what the game is; later on the medicine man will learn of his loss, and set up the biggest howl ever. Then somebody'll kind of give him a sly hint that perhaps the paleface boys may know something about that same belt; for one of them was seen hanging around the rock lodge of the Witch Doctor-which was you, Billie, while trying to get a picture of the medicine man just coming out of his place, which the Indians believe is bewitched, so that nothing could hire one of them to even peep inside."

"That's about the way they mean to work it, as sure as you're born,"

agreed Adrian, nodding his head in confirmation.

"When d'ye reckon they'd get here, to look for the lost belt?" asked Billie, eying the dinner that was by now cooking merrily; and his plaintive manner declared even more than his words expressed; for Billie was worrying as to whether or not they would be allowed to enjoy their meal in peace.

"I was just thinking that it might be a dangerous thing for us to keep that belt here any longer than we can help," remarked Adrian, thoughtfully.

"Yes," added Donald, "because we don't know the minute the medicine man will discover his loss; and then things will get pretty hot around the old town, as sure as you live. Perhaps I'd better hide it under my coat, and hunt up the old chief right away. I'll tell him how it is, and that some enemy has done this just to make him drive us out of the village, so we can't influence him any more against accepting the offer of this pretended showman."

"Do it while you may, then, Donald; we'll keep some dinner piping hot for you, make sure of that!" declared Billie, in a great perspiration lest he turn and see a crowd of the Zuni braves on the run toward the spot where they had located their tent, and headed by that terrible figure of the aroused medicine man.

Donald immediately crushed the glittering belt into an inside pocket of his hunting coat.

He next stooped down and took hold of his rifle; for things were getting a bit too exciting around that Zuni village to allow of his going without some means for self-defense.

"Watch out for signs of trouble, boys!" were his last words, as he started to walk hastily away, heading for the rock settlement.

The pair thus left in the camp proceeded to continue cooking their dinner as though they had nothing to worry about. All the same, Billie was forever casting suspicious glances all around, as though he expected at any moment to discover a band of excited braves coming on the full run for their camp, and with the wizard of the tribe leading the march, bent on conducting a search, and with a hope of finding the lost sacred article.

Donald had been gone possibly ten minutes at the most when an exclamation from Billie announced that he had at last caught sight of the object his excited fancy had been conjuring up every second of the time since Donald vanished among the outcropping ma.s.ses of stones, which would offer the spectators good seats later on from which they could observe all that went on, and at the same time feel perfectly safe from any of the crawling things that had a big share in the ceremony of the rattlesnake dance.

"Coming, are they, Billie?" asked Adrian, as calmly as he could, although there was a trace of unsteadiness in his tones as he quietly laid down the frying-pan he had been attending, and stood up, the better to see.

Yes, it was true, there could not be a solitary doubt of that. From out of the Zuni village a group of figures had burst, and these now came hurrying along toward the spot where the boys had raised their tent, and put out their ponies to graze.

"Whew! Look at the medicine man striding along at the head of the bunch, would you, Adrian?" burst out Billie. "There's that Braddon along, also one of his cowardly helpers, the young chap we believe must be his son, Hey! Adrian, shall we let 'em come into camp, and nose around, or do you mean to hold the lot up with a show of guns?"

Billie had made sure to have his repeating rifle close at hand all the while. Just as soon as he learned there was a strong likelihood that the camp was going to be invaded sooner or later, and themselves accused of a crime they had never dreamed of carrying out, the fat boy trailed his gun all around with him, no matter if he only stepped out to pick up another armful of fuel, so that the fire could be kept going, and their lunch continue to cook.

"If I've learned one thing since I came out to this country," Billie often said these days, "it's this: that whenever you do want a gun you want it in a mighty big hurry; and I don't calculate to get left more'n I can help."

"We've got to let them make a search; but neither of those white men shall take a step inside our tent," declared Adrian, resolutely, as he too picked up his gun. "Because I wouldn't put it past them to drop something else there, and then make out to find it. Let me do the talking, please, Billie, that's a good fellow!"

CHAPTER XXIV.

A DESPERATE SITUATION.

For once Billie was perfectly willing that his chum should undertake to do all the talking. He felt himself that he might not be equal to such a tremendous undertaking as handling this job. And he had perfect confidence in Adrian, who always managed to keep his wits about him under the most exciting conditions.

Indeed, it looked as though they were close upon the edge of serious trouble. That aroused old wizard of the Zunis was bearing down upon the little camp among the rocks like a pirate craft under a full spread of canvas. While his "get-up" was of such a character that he always impressed Billie as a "holy terror," according to the boy's way of expressing it, still right then and there he had such a black and forbidding look on his face that he seemed doubly ferocious.

No wonder the old wizard was furious, when his most highly prized possession, the Sacred Belt, said to have come down direct to him from the Great Manitou of the Zunis, and looked upon with the highest veneration and awe by every member of the tribe, had mysteriously disappeared.

He knew full well that no Zuni, young or old, could be induced to take one step inside the magic confines of the stone house which he used as his quarters; for they believed that instant death would follow such a daring move.

Hence, it was quite patent that only a reckless paleface, who had no such dread of the necromancer's power, must have entered, to carry away the precious possession.

And if, as seemed probable, he had learned that one of the white boys had been seen prowling around in the vicinity of his den, and acting in a suspicious manner, what more likely than that he would turn out to be the guilty party?

The group, native and white combined, bore down rapidly on the little camp. Adrian braced himself to handle the situation properly. He did not wish to do the slightest thing to incur the enmity of the Zuni people, for the boys were really their guests. At the same time he did not mean to be driven to the wall, and not put out a hand to defend himself and chum.

It was naturally toward the make-believe showman and his ally that the anger of the Broncho Rider Boy was turned. Only for this desire on the part of Braddon to have them chased out of the Zuni country, so that he could work his evil scheme, and profit thereby, at the expense of the poor natives, there would have been no trouble whatever.

And so Adrian set his teeth together, inwardly resolving that if circ.u.mstances did compel him to make use of the weapon he was gripping in his steady hands, it would be turned upon the showman the first thing.

Perhaps Mark Braddon realized something to this effect. That would account for his gradually falling back as he ran, allowing the others to outstrip him in the race. Adrian believed him to be as cunning as he was bold, and that was saying a good deal.

But now the medicine man and the three Zuni braves who accompanied him were close to the tent, and still coming under "full steam," as Billie muttered to himself, while crouching there, nervously handling his Marlin, as he waited the rush of events.

Adrian threw up his gun. At the same time he made an imperious gesture with his hand that could not be misunderstood.

He knew that the old medicine man could speak English almost as well as the chief of the tribe. Intercourse with the whites for all these years, with visitors frequently stopping over for days at a time to study the interesting ways of the Zuni people, had brought this about.

Besides, unless Adrian had been misinformed, the Witch Doctor had been away from his home in the desert on several occasions; and while his people believed he was at these times holding an extended audience with the Manitou, deep in the heart of the Sacred Mountain, Donald and Adrian, on talking it over, had come to the conclusion that the keen-witted old fraud may have been visiting civilization, to see for himself some of the wonderful things of which these white pilgrims had told the Zunis.

"Stop!" said Adrian; and singularly enough they all came to a standstill, just forty feet or so on the other side of the lone tent; because there was something commanding in both the voice and gesture of the white boy.

Besides, those two rifles looked more or less ready for business; and it is well known that firearms may be as dangerous in the hands of boys, as when grown men possess them.

"Now, tell me what all this means, Pick-ne-quan-to?" called out Adrian, purposely making use of the Indian name by which the medicine man was known, and which doubtless had more or less to do with his strange calling as a magician.

Thereupon the medicine man drew himself up, and restraining his anger as much as possible, he answered with great deliberation: