The Indian girl was already dressed in the bright silk gown that Kit had brought her. Kit caught the girl in her arms and squeezed her tight. But Young Mary was as rigid as a post. Not by word or sign did she betray the fact that she was glad to see Kit.

But Kit understood. She saw a bright light in Mary's eyes and was satisfied.

"Why Mary, you're a beauty in that dress. I want you to come over and meet my friends."

Mary shook her head. She was already gliding away toward the canyon where the Indians were camped by the stream. They had chosen the same spot that the professor had used for a camping site.

And when Kit joined the group of Indians by the side of the creek she realized that Mary was now a grown-up Indian woman. She did not run or dance about any more, but seated herself with the squaws and seemed happy.

Mary had returned to her people. There was no doubt about it. She would never again be the chum of the white girl. There were times when Kit felt angry; it seemed like a reflection on herself, on her loyalty.

The girls watched with amus.e.m.e.nt Young Mary's pride in her new dress.

There was a buzz of unintelligible comments from the squaws as they pressed about the girl, fingering the material and patting the silk.

Kit learned before long why Mary was so preoccupied with herself. She was in love. In love with a man of her own race.

Old Mary shrugged her shoulders and grunted her disapproval.

But in spite of her shrugs, the older woman was proud. Young Mary was making a good choice. Andreas was a fine young Indian. He had a farm of his own on the San Pablo. They were both young and could work and would have many children to bless them.

As Kit had prophesied, the Indian women were not interested in basket weaving. They shook their heads vehemently. Then at Bet's proposal that they sell her some that were already made, the ones they carried along, their heads shook more than ever and their grunts and frowns were decisive. Kit translated it to the girls as a flat refusal. Flat refusals always spurred Bet on to further efforts.

"I'll get those baskets yet," she declared. "I want them. What's more I've got an idea."

"Go ahead Bet and dream your little dream. You never dealt with an 'injun' before. Now you've met your Waterloo." Kit laughed. At heart she was rather pleased to see Bet go up against a losing proposition for once.

Bet tossed her head impudently at her friend but made no answer. The determination in her glance proved that she had not given up the struggle.

And late in the afternoon when the girls again walked down the canyon, Bet was decked out in such brightly colored beads that she might have been mistaken for an Indian girl herself. Strings of red, blue, amber, green and orange encircled her neck.

"What are you trying to do, Bet?" exclaimed Shirley with a laugh. "Are you trying to show off in front of the squaws to make them jealous?"

Enid laughingly began to count the strings.

"Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like this," Kit interrupted.

"Oh, keep quiet, all of you! I can wear as many strings of beads as I want to. It's the latest style," she retorted with a grimace. "I have an object in wearing them."

"It's a bribe to get those baskets!" cried Kit delightedly. "And maybe you will, at that. Your methods are sound and business-like. I thought you'd met your match, but now I'm inclined to think they have."

They were nearing the Indian camp and Bet noticed with pleasure the surprised glances of the squaws. They did not look at the other girls.

Bet was the center of attraction.

Finally one Indian woman drew near and put out a brown finger to touch the bright objects. Bet smiled and waited. "You like beads?" she asked.

The squaw nodded and was joined by another one. Soon Bet was surrounded. "You want them?" There were as many grunts of acceptance as there were women there.

"You sell me some baskets?" asked Bet. "Then you can have the beads."

The squaws looked at each other then back at the bright beads. They sidled away, without a word.

Bet's heart stood still. She had lost! Kit's eyes were shining with triumph.

But only for a moment. The Indian women were busily at work emptying the contents of their baskets into blankets. They were evidently preparing to give her the best they had. Bet got several small jar-like baskets besides two large ones that were used to carry things on their saddles.

They looked on in surprise when Bet paid them a good price for their baskets and pa.s.sed over the strings of beads as well.

There was a chorus of grunts and Kit again translated. The squaws were congratulating themselves on their bargain. They were more than satisfied. "I've known Indians all my life," Kit whispered to the girls, "but I've never before seen them so pleased about anything! You win, Bet!"

"I certainly do, Kit Patten. Come on, girls, lend a hand and let's get these baskets home before they change their minds."

As they were going up the trail toward the ranch, Young Mary suddenly appeared from a thicket of Palo Verde.

"Kit," she said softly.

Kit turned as if she had been shot. "Mary," she answered uneasily.

"What's the matter?"

Kit ran to the girl who now hesitated as if she were addressing a stranger. Then suddenly, with what appeared to be an effort, she whispered: "Your old man! He's in the hut over in Rattlesnake Creek, and he's being guarded by some bad Indians from down the valley. Be careful!"

And before Kit could stop her to ask any more questions, the Indian girl glided away as softly as she had come.

CHAPTER XVIII

_THE OLD CHIEF'S DAUGHTER WALKS_

"If the professor is really hidden in that hut, perhaps we can get him tonight," exclaimed Bet Baxter, as she swung up the trail carrying her Indian baskets.

"I wish we could find him before tomorrow afternoon when the boys come," said Enid. "It would be nice to give the boys our full attention."

"You'll spoil them if you do," Shirley responded.

Bet was quiet the rest of the way home. Thoughts of the professor kept crowding into her mind, schemes for his release; these things demanded her attention. Kit spoke to her three times without getting an answer, then with a smile turned to her chums.

"Bet is trying to solve a problem. She is never this way unless she is making plans of some sort."

By the time they reached the ranch house, Bet's eyes were glowing in an absent-minded way and she pa.s.sed Ma Patten in the patio without speaking.

She was so intent on the problem that was bothering her that she stood staring at her father a long time before she recognized him, then with a cry she threw herself into his arms.

"Oh Daddy! I've been so lonesome for you! How did you get here and when did you come?"

"Easy, girl, or you'll choke on all those questions," laughed Colonel Baxter. "I just arrived an hour ago, and I would have let you know if I'd been sure that I could come. And then at the end, I decided to surprise you. Are you glad?"

Bet laughed happily, her blue eyes glowing now with a very different light. There was snap and joy in them as she held tightly to her father's hand.