"We had thought of going over the old Custer trail," spoke up
Walter.

"Where, down in the Black Hills?"

"No, not so far down as that. We should like to go over the trail he
followed and visit the scene of his last battle and get a little
mountain trip as well----"

"Are there any mountains around here?" asked Stacy innocently.

Mr. Simms laughed, in which he was joined by the boys.

"My lad, there's not much else up here. You'll find all the
mountains you want and some that you will not want----"

"Any Indians?" asked Chunky.

"State's full of them."

"Good Indians, of course," nodded the Professor.

"Well, you know the old saying that 'the only good Indian is a dead
Indian.' They're good when they have to be. We have very little
trouble with the Crows, but sometimes the Black feet and Flat Heads
get off their reservations and cause us a little trouble."

Chunky was listening with wide open eyes. "I--I don't like Indians,"
he stammered. "None of us are overfond of them, I guess. Since you