“Oh! that’s because I’ve been brought up here,” said Frank. “I know cowboys, and their ways, just through and through. And if Mendoza wanted to see what the inside of the ranch house looked like, and meet the women folks face to face, he’d be just as apt as anything to try some way like that. It would be easy for such a bold man, Bob.”
“But what do you suppose the old warrior wants you to hold up here for?” asked the Kentucky boy, who could ask questions as became a lawyer, even if he failed to grasp situations as readily as his chum.
“How about that, Havasupai?” asked Frank, as he turned to the Moqui, who had been listening to what they said with deep earnestness.
“When rustlers get out of valley, and pick up
other ponies, Havasupai ride with same,” he said, slowly. “Still want see Antelope, and think White Wolf lead way to where the daughter of the Moqui be hidden away. Then watch while White Wolf walk up, walk down, say heap to self, shake fist back at Thunder Mountain; then when all rest sleep, jump on pony, and ride away to north. Know then what in mind of bad man. So Havasupai too leave camp, and start walk many miles to tell Frank, Bob, look out before blow it fall.”
Evidently the old Moqui believed in condensing things, and not wasting a single word more than was absolutely necessary. Still, while his story left much to the imagination, even Bob could read between the lines.
“Looks to me that he may be right, Frank,” he declared, as the Indian relapsed into silence once more, having finished his say, “if Mendoza is really and truly playing the part of a cowboy in the Circle Ranch grand round-up, and saw us fetching Havasupai in on our ponies, of course he’d know that his little game was in the soup. That would make him furious, wouldn’t it now?”
“Yes, and he might be tempted to do something desperate, knowing that he’d be chased by the whole pack of cowboys then and there. So you see, Bob, it’s our policy, just as the Moqui
hints, to keep from telling Mendoza that we suspect his presence. That gives us a chance to tell dad, and make up some sort of plan to capture the rustler before he can get in his bad work.”
“You’re right, Frank,” observed Bob, “and I see it all now, thanks to the Moqui, first of all. If it hadn’t been for him, I reckon you’d have brushed right along into camp, and the fat would have been in the fire right away. Now we’ll ride back just as if we’d only had our gallop; and Havasupai can come in after dark. Is that the idea?”