Then he wrenched the bottle away, whereupon the redskin awoke at once.
"Mine! mine!" he exclaimed, sitting up.
"It's poison," said Frank, and smashed the bottle.
With a snarl of fury, the Indian staggered to his feet and made for Merry, drawing a wicked-looking knife.
"Look out!" cried Gallup, in consternation.
Frank leaped to meet old Joe, clutching his wrists and holding him helpless, while he gazed sternly into the bloodshot eyes of the drunken old man.
"What's this, Crowfoot?" he demanded. "Would you strike Strong Heart with a knife? Would you destroy the brother of Indian Heart? Has the poison firewater of the white man robbed you of your senses?"
"Firewater Joe's!" exclaimed the redskin. "No right to spill um! No right! No right!"
"I did it for your own good, Crowfoot," said Merry quietly. "You are in bad shape now. I want you to come out of it. You may be able to help us. What you need is a good drink of water."