Donald looked grave.
“I don’t like his ways, that’s all I can say,” he remarked, still watching the important looking man in question, who was not far away at the time,
showing the family of tourists the largest cliff dwelling, with an air of proprietorship; as though he already felt that he had acquired an interest in the whole village by reason of the fact that he was daily and hourly increasing his offer of big pay, until the chief must give in, and accept a contract.
“And from what you told me about these people,” Adrian went on to say, gravely, “it seems to me they never could give that strange dance day after day, and have it still hold its solemn, religious character.”
“Never!” declared Donald, who knew so much about these Indians of the rock dwellings; “it can be danced only once a year, at a most particular season. Everything has to be just so, the moon at a certain age, and all sorts of other conditions are to be suitable, or it loses its significance. But then money is a strong factor nowadays, and if that tempter only made his offer big enough, he might get the old chief to consent.”
“That would be bad enough in itself,” remarked Adrian; “but between you and me, Donald, I’ve got a big suspicion that this circus man is something of a fake.”
“You mean that he would have some other scheme up his sleeve, in trying to tempt the chief to start out with him, taking the best part of the tribe along, is that your idea, Adrian?” asked the other, earnestly; as he again cast his gaze toward
the big man with the deep, loud voice, and blustering ways, whose manner had seemingly struck them both as peculiarly offensive.
Adrian simply nodded.
He saw Billie listening with open mouth, and eyes that were distended, as though the information regarding these suspicions on the part of his chums was thrilling him through and through; and Adrian did not think it wholly advisable to get the fat boy started in the question line, because he would never stop quizzing them.