CHAPTER XVII
INDIAN TRADING
Much to the disgust of Tommy Sharpe, Kie Wicks was a guest at the Judge's table that day. Kie was beaming with self-satisfaction. He felt that he had put over a good deal and could afford to be genial.
Kie's plan was to let the ruffians hold the claim until he could make arrangements to put men to work and dig out the treasure in the tunnel. Kie did not doubt for a moment that the treasure was there. And tonight he intended to investigate and see how much needed to be done. If he could handle it alone, so much the better.
Kit and Bet arrived when the meal was half finished and pretended to be hurt at the teasing that they encountered. They decided to wait until the family was alone before saying anything about the capture of the tunnel. Kie might get ugly and actually harm the old man.
"Saw your playmate, Young Mary, coming up the canyon today," said Kie, glad of some new excitement for the girls, to take their minds off the professor for a while.
"Oh, is Mary home?" cried Kit happily. "I do want to see her!"
"Yes, Young Mary is here with a dozen other Indians of all sizes and shapes," grinned Kie. "They sure are a funny looking crowd."
Kit herself might have made the same remark, but coming from Kie, she resented it.
"Where are they?" exclaimed Bet. "I'll pay them a visit. Do you think they will make some baskets for me?"
"You can never tell a thing about them. If they need money, they will, but like as not they'll refuse. This is their vacation, they come up every year to pick mesquite beans and piñon nuts," Kit informed them.
"Let's go down right after lunch and see them," proposed the girls, but Kit hesitated.
"We might frighten them away if we are too anxious," she said.
"Indians are very shy."
"I'll say they are," smiled Tommy. "And about as friendly as a block of ice."
"Why Tommy Sharpe, how can you say such a thing? There's Old Mary and Indian Joe, they are the most friendly people in the world. There isn't anything they wouldn't do for Mum and Dad and me. And they think you're a great man!" Kit defended them.
"Old Mary and Joe are altogether different. Indian Joe is just like a white man!" answered Tommy.
"And good as gold!" emphasized Kit.
"The only good Indian is a dead Indian," Kie Wicks exclaimed dramatically.
Kit flared up, but Bet soothed her.
"Remember we are already even with Kie Wicks," she whispered.
Kit nodded her head. "Just the same I don't like to hear Indians talked about like that. It always makes me angry."
After lunch, much to the joy of Kie Wicks, the girls decided to walk down into the canyon and see the Indians.
Kit ran home first, for she was sure that she would find Young Mary there, and she wanted to see the girl alone. With the other girls she might be shy.
So it was Bet who called the Judge aside, to a safe distance, from Kie Wicks' eager ears, and told him of the capture of the tunnel.
"And those fellows said that Kie put them up to it and that it is Kie who took the old man. He's safe, they said, but I'm not so sure about that."
"I wouldn't worry about him. Kie Wicks has no reason to harm the professor," declared Judge Breckenridge. "Now I'll tell you what we'd better do. You and the girls go along down the trail and visit the Indian camp. That is evidently what Kie wants you to do. I'll send Tommy over to the tunnel with two men to start the excavation work and maybe by the time we get the professor back, we'll have something to show him. Who knows, Bet? Sometimes I'm half hopeful, although my common sense tells me there isn't anything there."
"Don't use so much common sense, Judge. It's lots of fun to dream. I wish Dad were here, he'd love this. He'd have the whole thing worked out, he'd be able to see the Spaniards who buried the treasure and all the rest of it. Dad's wonderful!"
"He is, Bet. I agree with you, and I wish that he would make us a visit, he half promised, you know."
"Yes, but in his last letter he said he'd not be able to come," Bet added with a sigh, for the separation from her father was a trial to the motherless girl.
"All right, now you run along and don't say anything to the girls – not yet. Make a lot of fuss about going to see the Indians and pretend you're crazy about them."
"I don't have to pretend that, I am crazy to see them. Oh, I do hope they will like me and want to be friends."
The Judge laughed at the girl's enthusiasm.
"They will, Bet, they can't help themselves, if they are human at all."
Bet turned away without noticing the delicate compliment that the Judge had paid her. In her heart she was really concerned for fear she might not be able to get on friendly terms with the Indians.
Judge Breckenridge joined Kie Wicks and his party, after giving instructions to Tommy Sharpe, and he followed Kie on what he knew to be a "wild goose chase." Kie flattered himself that he was being very clever in keeping the searchers away from the old man.
The girls waited impatiently for Kit. "I do wish she would hurry," fussed Bet. "What's keeping her?"
"Maybe she found Young Mary there, as she hoped, and as it's been such a long time since they've seen each other, they'll need to do a lot of talking to make up for lost time."
But Kit's meeting with her Indian friend was very different from what the girls pictured.
Even Kit was surprised and a little hurt at the lack of interest in her childhood friend.
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 amusement 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 passed 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 passed 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.
In her joy at seeing her father she had not paid any attention to what the other girls were doing. Now as she heard the sound of happy voices she turned and saw the boys, Phil and Bob and Paul.
"Oh, you boys! Why we didn't expect you until tomorrow afternoon," she said, extending her hand to Phil Gordon.
"If you don't want to see us tonight, perhaps we could go back and sit in the station at Benito."
"Don't be silly, Bob Evans. You're just the same as ever." Bet laughed as she always did at Bob.
"What did you expect me to do in three weeks time? Get grey headed and grow a beard?"
Bob had helped Joy to her feet when they heard the girls arriving and he now stood supporting his sister while he laughed and teased.
"Isn't it good to see them?" cried Joy.
"Does that include me, too?" inquired Colonel Baxter.
"Of course it does! You don't know how often we've talked about you and wished you were here," answered Enid, before Joy could reply.
There was a real change in Paul Breckenridge since the girls had seen him the previous winter. The old brooding, shy look was gone, and now he entered into the pleasures around him as the other boys did. One could see that he liked to be near Enid, teasing her constantly as if he had to make up for those years of separation.
Judge Breckenridge smiled around at his happy family, well pleased with everything.
"The one thing that would make it perfect would be to have the old professor here," he said. "But we'll find him before long."
Kit gave a little cry. "How terrible of me to have forgotten to tell you, Judge! We know where the professor is."
"Where?" asked the Judge eagerly.
"Young Mary says that he is in the shack in Rattlesnake Creek."
"But Kie Wicks took us through that hut this afternoon," replied the Judge. "He isn't there!"
The girls showed their disappointment.
"Maybe they just moved the old man out for an hour until you finished your search," said Bet. "I wouldn't put that past Kie Wicks. Nothing is too bad for him to do."
"We hunted inside and outside of that hut," insisted the Judge. "If he had been there, surely there would have been some sign."
"I have an idea!" cried Bet, jumping to her feet. "I believe he's in that hut, they put him back after you'd been there. I'm going to find him tonight."
"You'll do no such thing, Bet. Chasing around among a lot of bad men is no place for a girl," began her father, but Bet interrupted:
"Just wait until I have worked out my plan and you'll see I'll be as safe as if I were at home. You can come with me, Dad. Will you help me, Judge? I'll need several men."
"Let us in on this," exclaimed Phil and Bob in the same breath. "We'd like to have a hand in solving your latest mystery."
Bet flew to her room and returned in a few minutes in a strange costume, a long dress of buckskin. Dark braids fell over her shoulders and feathers rose from her hair. She had no resemblance to the boyish girl they knew.
The Colonel looked puzzled but Judge Breckenridge caught the idea. "You're a wonder, Bet! And I do believe you are right. You'll be as safe as if you were in your own bed."
An hour later, the watchers by the hut rubbed their eyes and stared about them. A wild, weird cry rang through the canyon, and in the moonlight Kie Wicks and his bad men saw, far above them on the cliff, the figure of an Indian girl.
"She wasn't walking, she was just floating in the air, it seemed, and as she moved, she moaned and shrieked. It was terrible! There was no doubt about it. It was the ghost," Kie Wicks told his wife when he was safely at home.
"What happened?" Maude urged him to continue the story.
"You should have seen those Indians go! 'The Old Chief's daughter walks! It's the ghost girl!' they cried hoarsely. And that's the last I saw of them."
"And what did you do?" Maude pressed him further.
"I – well, I ran, too. I got out of there in record time, let me tell you. I don't mind shooting it out with a human being, but I don't take no chances with a ghost. I vamoosed."
"And the old man?" she inquired.
"He's there yet. One thing certain, I'll never go into that canyon late at night again."
Bet's ruse had worked better than she had hoped. In less than two minutes after she stepped out on the cliff, the place was deserted, the hut left unguarded and Judge Breckenridge and his men rushed in, broke open the door and found the old man asleep on a sack of straw.
The Judge touched him and the professor tried to shake him off.
"What are you going to do with me now?" he asked peevishly, "I want to go to sleep. Can't you let me be?"
"Ssh! Don't talk! We've come to take you home. This is Judge Breckenridge."
The professor recognized his voice and breathed a sigh of relief. He rose unsteadily and did not speak again until they were a long way up the trail.
Then he suddenly got weak and felt as if he were going to faint.
"Don't worry, I get this way sometimes. I have some medicine over at the tent."
As it was only a short distance to the claim, the Judge decided to get him there as quickly as possible.
The professor was like a child in his eagerness to stay at the camp, and finally toward morning the Judge left him there in charge of the boys and Seedy Saunders.
And when Kie Wicks, deciding that he would have a look at the tunnel which he had left in charge of the two ruffians, climbed the trail to the summit the next morning about dawn, the first person he saw was the old professor, smoking his pipe and gazing far off over the hills with a smile of happiness on his face.
Kie wheeled his horse as if he had been shot at and raced madly away.
He was muttering excitedly:
"The mountains are bewitched! That ghost has spirited the old man out of the hut and back to the tunnel."
When his horse finally stopped before the store in Saugus, he was covered with foam and the man who bestrode him was trembling in every limb.
Yet he said nothing to Maude. What was the use? She would only worry and fret, and besides he had always made light of ghosts and said he didn't believe in them.
"But seein' is believin'," he said to himself as he dismounted. "I'm outdone by a ghost."
And Bet, as she put away the Indian costume the next morning, hugged it to her as if it had been responsible for the whole affair. "Whatever made you think of it, Bet?" asked Enid.
"Thoughts like that just come to her. It's what you might call inspiration, or intuition," laughed Shirley.
"Why give it such a big name," returned Bet. "I simply had a hunch, and it worked out."
"Just like that!" exclaimed Joy, as she tried to dance on the lame foot, snapping her fingers in time to the step.
"What's the next thing on the program, Bet?" asked Bob Evans. "Have you a bulletin board with the adventures scheduled?"
"I wish you'd stop teasing me. It isn't my fault if I'm always getting into the middle of a problem."
"Whose is it, Bet?" laughed her father.
"Yours, I think, Dad. You brought me up." She slid an arm around her father's neck. "And are you very much disappointed in me?"
"Fishing for compliments?" Colonel Baxter pinched her rosy cheek.
"No, I only want a little appreciation," she replied.
At that moment Billy Patten poked his head into the corridor.
"The old man at the tunnel. He says for the girls to come quick."
"Something important has happened!" insisted Kit. "Hurry up, let's go!"
Colonel Baxter hurried to his horse and followed after the girls. His mind was not, for the moment, on possible treasure, he was overwhelmed by the magnitude of the hills, their rugged outlines and the blazing sun that beat down upon them.
When they reached the summit, the girls spurred their horses across the flat.
What they saw was an excited little old man, waving his arms and dancing about a huge box.
As the girls approached, he cried.
"Come quickly. It's a brass-bound chest. It's the treasure!"
Tommy Sharpe pried the rusty lock, and as the cover was swung back, the girls gave a gasp of astonishment and dismay.
The chest was empty!