In other words, Adrian was hinting that possibly the Great Spirit might take it as an insult to have this same ceremonial dance made a common byword among the palefaces, and visit some terrible judgment upon the heads of those who were concerned. He even asked what the medicine man thought about the scheme, and was not surprised to learn that the Wizard Doctor violently opposed anything of the sort; and it was his opposition that had caused the arrangements to hang fire so far. The chief seemed very friendly, and Adrian believed that he had succeeded in influencing him to go slow about making such a radical change, without in any way reflecting upon the honor of the circus proprietor. As he turned away after this long and earnest talk with the old Zuni chief he felt impelled to look to one side, as though some influence forced him to turn his eyes that way. And just as he half expected, he discovered that Braddon had been intently observing him, possibly much of the time he and the old chief held their heart-to-heart talk. There was a dark scowl on the strong face of the big man. He smiled in a queer way, as he saw Adrian looking toward him; and somehow the expression on his face seemed anything but agreeable. The boy half expected that Braddon would stalk toward him, and demand to know what he and the old Zuni leader had been talking about so earnestly; he was bracing himself to decline to answer, when he saw the other whirl around, and hurry after the chief, evidently meaning to get that information at first hands. “I reckon that might spell trouble for me,” mused Adrian, as he walked on; and having somewhat tired of observing the strange sights of the village by now, or perhaps feeling that the company of his chums would be more agreeable, he headed toward the tent where Billie lay taking a nap in the shade, and Donald was busily engaged writing up some incident in his daily log. Half an hour afterwards who should turn up there but Mark Braddon. When Adrian saw the big, dark-faced circus man approaching, with a set look on his countenance, he knew that there was going to be an explosion. And he was not far wrong, either. Donald stopped his writing, and jumping to his feet, hurried to the side of his chum, recognizing the signs of a storm when he saw them. “See here, youngsters,” said the man, in his big bass voice, while he tried to look as fierce as possible, under the impression that in this way he might send a spasm of fear and dismay to the hearts of the boys whom he addressed, “it’d be a mighty good thing for you to stop poking your noses into my business, and look after your own affairs. Get thet, don’t you? Well, unless you want to find yourselves hurt rather sudden, just keep hands off, and allow me to run my own circus.”