"Go back to your village. Do not come to my ranch again. Next time it will be something worse than quirts with which we fight, and dead men, instead of squaws with sore legs, will be the result. Go!"
The old medicine man turned his pony toward the mountains, and in a guttural voice gave the command.
Without a word, and without looking back, the Indians started on their way, Crazy Cow following dejectedly on foot, leading his pony.
He had been conquered and humiliated, but his heart burned with hatred for the young white chief who had been the cause of it.
When the Indians were out of sight, Ted returned to the boys.
"Well, that's over for the present," he said.
"Yes, but we'll have trouble with those fellows later, you may be sure," said Ben. "Look out for a ball or a knife in the back from Crazy Cow."
"I don't fear him as much as I do the cunning and treachery of that old villain, Flying Sun, who plans these raids and lets the young men execute them while he stays back in a safe place."
"What interests me more than anything else just now is Stella and Bud. I propose that we drop everything else and hunt for them. You know that since the appearance of the man without a face, and now this encounter with the Indians, to say nothing of sending Sol Flatbush's body home on his horse, the members of the Whipple gang will be pretty keen after every member of our party."
"True, Ben. We must be very careful of Stella from now on. I would not have taken this ranch had I known that it was menaced by such a gang of thieves as seems to be in the mountains."