"What you doing there?" roared Kie Wicks. And as the man turned he recognized the little professor whom he had met at Judge Breckenridge's ranch the previous day. Kie laughed to himself. Here was one man he need never fear. Inefficiency and irresponsibility were stamped upon ever line of the little man's figure.

"He's childish and perhaps a bit off," thought the mountaineer. He turned to the professor. "That's a mining claim belonging to me. It has promise of wealth in it. You're not by any chance looking for some likely claims, are you?"

"No," replied the professor truthfully. "I've come out here to hunt for Indian relics."

Kie eyed the professor distrustfully. To himself he said: "That's a likely story! Indian relics! What would a grown man want with them?"

Then he turned to the old man. "You are in the wrong district," he a.s.serted. "Who ever told you there were Indian relics in this section?

Why, we don't even find arrowheads in this part of the country. Now over on the San Pedro there's lots of mounds and things. There's where you ought to go."

"That's a great disappointment. I've come a long way to unearth an old village or something of the sort."

"You're barking up the wrong tree, mister! There ain't nothing around here."

As the professor took leave and rode up the trail, his face was a puzzle. "That's queer," he sighed. "Judge Breckenridge certainly told me that he had made some very important discoveries himself. But this man who belongs here should know more about it. I can't make it all out."

Even Ma Patten's good cooking and her cheerful chatter could not restore the old man's optimism.

"He's tired himself out the first morning," whispered Kit to her mother, after the professor had left the table and seated himself on a large rock overlooking the canyon.

Then, as they watched, they saw him slap his knee vehemently as he arose with a smile.

"That fellow is a fraud! He's trying to mislead me! I know his type now. He wants to keep everything for himself."

He would have been certain of this if he had seen Kie Wicks emerging from the canyon. Kie shook his head decidedly. "There, I put a spike in the professor's gun. He simply wilted. I'm rid of him all right."

But, as the horse followed the well worn trail, he mused. "There's treasure there, I know it! It's _my_ treasure! Mine!"

CHAPTER X

_THE PROFESSOR'S JOB_

Within a few days the professor's tent and cot arrived, and after that Ma Patten pleaded in vain for him to stay with them. The old man was independent and insisted on getting established in his own quarters.

He had already chosen a spot in Lost Canyon with the aid of Indian Joe, who knew the best springs and the best place to pitch a tent.

And Professor Gillette could not have had a better helper. Under a huge cottonwood tree, there was a bubbling spring, cool and clear, and down the creek a short distance was a small pool.

"Why, there's my bath room!" laughed the old man. "Talk about modern conveniences, I have them all."

The Merriweather Girls were eager to help the old man get settled. And when the five of them with Tommy Sharpe got to work they soon had everything in order. Tommy levelled a s.p.a.ce and beat it down until it was smooth. Judge Breckenridge had suggested that boards be laid for a floor but at this the professor protested vehemently.

"I've come out here to live the simple life, the life of an explorer.

I want to rough it, even endure hardships. It will do me good," he a.s.serted, objecting to anything that might seem like luxury.

But after a day or two of trying to cook his meals over a small outdoor fire, he accepted a tiny stove from Mrs. Patten. Primitive living was all right, but it was a waste of time to cook over an open fire.

And one day he returned from a long hike over the hills and settled into a rocking chair that the good neighbor had placed before his door, in his absence, and did not protest but took it gratefully. After a strenuous day, it would be good to drop into the restful depths of an easy chair and enjoy the glories of the canyon.

But he refused her help very decidedly when she dropped in one morning and found him at his weekly wash. His shirts and overalls were spread out on a large flat stone in the creek and he was beating them incessantly with a small paddle.

"I'm enjoying the washing," he declared with a laugh. "I don't mind it at all."

"But your work, your discoveries?" inquired Ma Patten.

"They can wait while I get clean! Anyway I haven't had much luck. The Indians will give me no help at all."

"Why are you so keen about these Indian relics? We can give you any number of arrowheads and baskets and stuff. You're welcome to them if it will help you any," offered Mrs. Patten sympathetically.

"That's not exactly what I want," the professor said. "I'm interested in American Indians, and have always been considered an authority on the subject. But I'm getting old and younger men are stepping into the field. They think I'm just a musty old professor with nothing but a book knowledge of Indian ruins. So I have to show them."

"What's the use?" answered Ma Patten contemptuously. "These young fellows always can beat us in the end and we might as well give up gracefully."

"But that isn't all. My job's at stake. If I don't do something to get up-to-date I'll be shoved out. They want men who go out and do spectacular things that get them into the newspapers. I was told that my department would have to be snapped up a bit! Isn't that terrible language for educators to use? And if my job goes, I don't know what I'll do. I've got responsibilities, heavy ones."

"Have you a large family, Professor Gillette?" asked the woman.

"No, I have only one daughter but she is an invalid. She was studying to be a dancer and one slippery day in winter she fell and broke her hip. And she has never been able to dance since."

"Oh, that's terrible! The poor child!"

"She's as happy as a lark. She has never given up faith that as soon as she is taken to see a specialist in the city, she will be cured. It is for that operation that I must earn more money. And with the fear of losing my position in the college you can see why I must make good this summer."

"Well, you'll find plenty of Indian signs around these mountains," Mrs.

Patten informed him.

"That's strange!" The professor exclaimed, "That man, Kie Wicks, claims that there never were Indians in these hills. None to speak of, he said. Told me I was barking up the wrong tree. Oh yes, he was quite certain I was going to fail. But I mustn't fail! I can't fail!"

"Of course you won't fail! And you needn't believe a word that Kie Wicks says. He doesn't want people to come into this canyon. He believes in the myth about the treasure and he makes it hard for anyone who comes in. One old prospector had to leave because Kie had it in for him. He just couldn't stay."

"What did Kie Wicks do?" asked the old man.

"Well, for one thing he would sell the prospector meat and at night steal it all back. And the old chap was shot at in the dark and threatened until he gave up after putting in several months working on the claims. So you needn't expect any help from that ruffian," stormed Ma Patten.

"I don't know what to do. I must find that Indian village." Professor Gillette had no notion of giving up, not for all the western bad men he had ever heard about. He had come to Arizona to find an Indian village and that he must do.

"Why don't you go over the hill there? We used to find bits of pottery and arrowheads and even some Indian ornaments made of silver. I have a few of them at home. Be sure to remind me to show them to you. You'll be interested."

The professor's face glowed with excitement. "I'd like to ask you for more particulars as to the exact place," he exclaimed.

"I'll do better than that. Kit will take you over there some day and like as not you'll find just what you are after," Mrs. Patten a.s.sured him.

While they were still talking Tommy Sharpe arrived with a note from Mrs. Breckenridge. It was an invitation to supper that evening.

"Isn't that kind! I'll be so glad to go. She's a beautiful and gracious woman."

"It's a sort of party, I judge," said Mrs. Patten, beaming with pleasure and opening a note that Tommy had pa.s.sed her. "We're all invited to dinner."