stand on 'em. We are not going to let this show wait any longer!"

So Dave was roughly jerked to his feet. He swayed with pretended
dizziness, next tottered to a tree, throwing his arms around it.

"You start something!" ordered the boss tramp of Prescott.

Feeling that now the chance might come for both of them to make
a break for liberty, Dick answered, with a sheepish grin:

"If I can get wind enough I'll see if I can do an Indian war song
and dance."

"Go ahead with it," ordered the boss. "It sounds good."

Once, three or four years ago, Dick had heard and seen such a
war song and dance done at an Indian show in the summer time.

"I'll see if I can remember it," he replied.

Crooning in guttural tones, he started a swaying motion of his
body. Gradually the unmelodious noise rose in volume. Brandishing
his hands as though they contained weapons, he circled about the
tree, gradually drawing nearer to Darrin.

"That song is mighty poor stuff," growled one of the tramps.

"Ready, Dave! Make a swift break for it!" whispered Prescott.