CHAPTER XIX.

WHERE LADDERS WERE STAIRS.

"It's all right, fellows," said Donald, as he joined his chums; "the chief remembers our foreman at the mine, and is glad to have us here. Fact is, he gave me to understand that he'd look on us as his special guests during the ceremonies connected with the yearly dance to the Little Father, as they call the rattlesnake, under the impression that it was connected with the religion of their forefathers, away back thousands of years."

"Huh!" grunted the unbelieving Billie, "take my word for it now, that's the same kind of talk he gives every new batch of strangers that shows up here. You see, I'm something of a reader of character, though I've never let on to you two fellows about it before; and if ever I saw a shrewd look on the face of a human being it was written large on his phiz."

Adrian chuckled.

Possibly that was his own private opinion, for he believed that the annual gathering of numerous whites, deeply interested in the religious ceremonies, and dance of the Zunis, had by degrees come to make it somewhat of a commercial affair. They found so many chances to "bleed" the good-natured travelers that the spirit was now rife in the community, just as you find it in every gypsy camp.

After that they wandered around for quite some time, "visiting," Billie called it. They talked with the natives, finding that the vast majority could not only understand English, but speak it fairly well in the bargain.

Donald led his comrades up a crazy ladder to the lower strata of rock houses, as the holes in the face of the high cliff were called.

They found that they were singularly lacking in what white boys were accustomed to look upon as actual necessities in their homes. The sleeping places, instead of being comfortable beds, consisted for the most part of some skins thrown down in a corner.

"But then," ruminated Billie, who was given to speculating on occasion, "I reckon now that an up-to-date brass bed would kinder look queer and out of place in this antique hole in the wall. The beds and other furniture are about in keeping with the people and the habitation, ain't that so Adrian?"

"Well," observed the one addressed, "what else would you expect to find in a living place that had been used for hundreds and hundreds of years by these people, and those who went before them? But you admit that it's all mighty interesting, don't you, Billie?"

"That's what it is, Adrian," heartily replied the other, "and from the way these other visitors are prowling around every-which-way, seems to me they think just the same as we do. Several look like cowboys; you don't happen to know any of the same, I suppose, Donald?"

"No," Donald answered, after taking a good survey of the parties in question; "never ran across them before; but that isn't queer, when you come to think how many ranches there are in this Southwest country; and how seldom punchers go outside of the limits of their own range."

"Then there's a bunch of real tourists," continued Billie; "father, mother and two half-grown children, people of means, they must be, for they look like it; and they've got three guides along with 'em too, so's not to get lost on the desert, like some sillies have a habit of doing. 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 blustering 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 grass.

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."