CHAPTER XXIII.

THE STEALING OF THE SACRED BELT.

"You hit the right nail on the head, Billie, when you said that," was the way Donald told how he agreed with the remark of the other.

In fact, all of them had been struck with the similarity of the crooked handwriting that they saw upon the soiled piece of paper before them, and that which had been upon the warning at the spring.

To make doubly sure Billie pulled out the latter, he having secured it at the time; and a hasty examination proved to be all that was necessary to convince the three boys that their suspicions held good.

"The same hand wrote both!" declared Adrian.

"All right," spoke up Billie, instantly; "don't that prove the other warning was meant right for us, and not stuck there in a general way, as Donald here seemed to think?"

"I own up that the proof is overwhelming, Billie," admitted the party in question; "but just to think of them laying such a measly plot to get us in bad favor with our new friend, the Zuni chief. I remember seeing that belt right well, and remarked at the time that it was the finest one I had ever set eyes on, and I've seen quite a bunch of the same among the Indians on the reservations; for they try to excel each other making them valuable with precious stones and little nuggets of gold."

"Yes," added Adrian, "and I could hardly take my eyes off it this very morning, when the medicine man took a share in the first part of the programme. Then he left the rest to some sub-chiefs, and went away with the head of the tribe. It's a beauty of a belt, and must be worth considerable, just in money alone."

"Huh!" grunted Billie, "didn't this unknown friend of ours say right there that the Witch Doctor values it more'n his own life. And the meanness of them to think to steal it, and fasten the job on us for keeps! It makes my blood boil, I tell you! Yes, I'm opposed to violence of all kinds, except when it's necessary to teach a rascal like Braddon that the Broncho Rider Boys can take care of themselves, thank you. Why, I'd almost feel like puncturing one of his arms or legs with a bit of hot lead from my trusty rifle, so as to teach him the lesson he needs."

"Hold your fire, Billie; we may need all the ammunition we've got before we're through with this thing," advised Donald.

"Oh! I'm only saying what I'd _like_ to do, not what I expect to," remarked Billie, as he carefully placed the two "warnings" away in one of the pockets of his khaki hunting coat. "Wonder how many more times this bully friend is agoing to do us a good turn, without showing his face?"

Adrian and Donald exchanged looks, and then the former went on to say:

"Seems like we'll have to pass that by, Billie, because nobody knows. Just who he is, and why he keeps so shy, is more'n I can guess. Perhaps some day he'll come out into the open, and let us see who we've got to thank. If you asked me to give my best guess now, I'd say he's one of those same punchers Donald was making friends with yesterday. He's keeping it up just for a lark, to sort of bother us. There's no accounting for some people's sense of what they call humor. He may think it's the best joke he ever had to do with, just keeping us guessing."

"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 ejaculation 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 masses 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!"