“I see ’em!” he cried. “I see ’em! Gimme a gun! Get behind the wagon! Aren’t you going to stop? Going to let us all be scalped?” “Quit your yawp!” bade Hi, roughly. “Drive along, Davy. Handle your guns, boys, so they’ll know we’re ready. Don’t let them think we’re afraid. I’ll tend to them at the proper time.” Minding these instructions of Captain Hi, the Hee-Haw outfit proceeded as if intent on their own business. Left-over whimpered and showed a strong disposition to climb into the rear of the wagon, but Billy said sternly: “None of that! You stay outside. Thought you were an Injun-fighter.” “I am,” piped Left-over. “I was going to protect the wagon.” “Huh!” grunted Billy. Up on the seat, in plain sight, driving the mules, Davy felt rather alone and exposed; but he drove steadily. The mules were pricking their long ears and showing uneasiness. “Watch your animals, Dave,” cautioned Jim. “A mules hates Injuns wuss ’n a rattlesnake.” And Davy hung tight. The Indians bore down at full gallop, as if to cut the wagon off. But at sight of the guns in the hands of Hi and Jim and Billy, when within a hundred yards they reined in sharply and the leader threw up his hand, palm outward. Hi answered with similar sign. He rode forward halfway, so did the Indian; they met. “’Rapahoes,” exclaimed both Billy and Jim. “Regular beggars,” commented the Reverend, easily. “Hi’ll fix them.” Hi and the Arapaho leader came riding toward the wagon, and the others in the band slowly edged closer. They were armed mainly with bows and spears, and did not look very formidable. “Just a lot of rascals out on a thieving expedition, picking up what they can from the emigrants,” announced Hi. “But of course they claim to be ‘good.’ The chief here’ll show you his recommendations.” The chief (who was a villainous appearing old fellow, cross-eyed and marked by small-pox and wearing a dirty ragged blanket) passed from one to another of the Hee-Haw company, saying “How, how?” and shaking hands and extending a bit of dingy paper. When the paper reached Davy he read: “This Indian is Old Smoke. He’ll steal the tail off a mule. Watch him and pass him along. “PIKE’S PEAKER.” The chief grinned and grunted, evidently well pleased with himself and the impression that he thought he was making. “Soog!” he said eagerly. “Soog!” “No sugar,” answered Hi. “Drive on, Dave. Needn’t stop.” But the old Indian kept pace. “Tobac’. Give tobac’?” “Nope,” answered Hi, shaking his head. “Puckachee! Be off! Vamose!” “Look out for those other Injuns!” suddenly warned Billy, the alert. “They’re coming right in!” “Don’t let ’em!” begged Left-over, excited. “Give him some sugar, so he’ll go away. I’ll give him some.”