"Aw--there's a lot of squaws tagging along behind!" Donny
complained disgustedly from his post of observation on the fence.
"They'll go to the house first thing to gabble--there's old Hagar
waddling along like a duck. You can't make that warpath business
stick, Clark--not with all them squaws."

"Well, say, you sneak up and hide somewhere till yuh see if
Vadnie's anywhere around. If they get settled down talking to
mum, they're good for an hour--she's churning, Don--you hide in
the rocks by the milk-house till they get settled. And I'll see
if-- Git! Pikeway, while they're behind the stacks!"

Donny climbed down and scurried through the sand to the house as
if his very life depended upon reaching it unseen. The group of
Indians came up, huddled at the corral, and peered through the
stout rails.

"How! How!" chorused the boys, and left the horse for a moment
while they shook hands ceremoniously with the three bucks. Three
Indians, Clark decided regretfully, would make a tame showing on
the warpath, however much they might lend themselves to the
spirit of the joke. He did not quite know how he was going to
manage it, but he was hopeful still. It was unthinkable that
real live Indians should be permitted to come and go upon the
ranch without giving Evadna Ramsey, straight from New Jersey, the
scare of her life.

The three bucks, grunting monosyllabic greetings' climbed, in all
the dignity of their blankets, to the top rail of the corral, and
roosted there to watch the horse-breaking; and for the present