There they lay, dead to the world, when Fred, out hunting for Old Middie, Uncle Dave’s cow, which had strayed away the night before, came suddenly upon the sleeping Redskins. He stared a moment in surprise and fear, then seeing that he had not disturbed the band, he turned cautiously and stole back out of the dangerous den. When he felt safe, he broke into a run up the slope, arriving at the cabin with little breath to tell his tale. When he did manage to get it out, the old mountaineer shook his head gravely. “Them red varmints mean mischief.” “What do you think they are up to now?” asked Fred. “Dunno, boy, dunno; but I reckon it’s some thievin’.” “Hadn’t I better warn the ranchers?” “Not just yet. I think we’d better do a little scoutin’ first. I’d like to git the lay o’ the land ’fore we make a move.” He studied a moment, then added, “If the stockmen could ketch ’em red-handed, they’d hev a clear cause to clean up that White Injun and his bunch. As it is, we ain’t dead sure they’re guilty.” The old mountaineer went on with his dinner preparations, but his face was full of thought. Finally he said, half to himself, “It’s a risky piece o’ business, but I reckon I kin do it. “We’ll wait here till long ’bout dark. ’Tain’t likely they’ll be movin’ ’fore that time; then we’ll saddle Old Buck and both slip down as close as we kin git an’ be safe. I’ll leave you thar and steal in till I kin hear what they’re talkin’ ’bout. More’n likely they’ll drop some word thet’ll give us a hint o’ their scheme.” “No, I’ll take that risk,” objected Fred. “You don’t know their language, boy.” “But, Uncle Dave, what if they catch you?” “I reckon they’ll lift my skelp; but I ain’t caught yet, boy. An’ if they try any more tricks on me, that White Injun’ll pay dear fer it, ’fore I’m done talkin’. But let’s hope fer somethin’ better.” “Well, go ahead, I’m with you whatever comes.” “I’ve been in tight places ’fore this an’ squeezed through. Now, listen, if anything happens to me, jump on the horse and peg it fer help. If I get what I’m after, I’ll slip back and tell ye what to do.” An hour later the two were picking their cautious way through the groves of the hidden nest of thieves. Within about two hundred yards of the place, they halted, and the old mountaineer began to steal alone closer to the den. Fred watched him make his way stealthily into the brush and disappear. Then he listened and listened with straining ears for hours, it seemed, to catch the sound of his returning step, but he heard only the gentle chatter of the leaves, the squeaking of the wood mice, and the far-away call of the coyote, remarkably clear in the dangerous stillness of the night. Once he fancied he caught the sound of voices. He held his breath to hear, but the breeze swept away the sound. It may not have been fancy, however, for while the boy kept anxious watch, Nixon was giving his band of dusky followers their final instructions for the raid.