"Fire dance."
"Tell me about it?"
Tad did so, the host listening with grave face until the recital was ended.
He shook his head disapprovingly.
"And this—this Indian that you knocked down—was he an Apache?"
"I don't know. I think so, though. He had on a peculiar head dress
"That was one of them," interrupted Mr. Kringle, with emphasis. "And I'll wager you haven't heard the last of him yet. That's an insult which the Apache brave will harbor under his copper skin forever. He'll wait for years, but he'll get even if he can."
The faces of the Pony Rider Boys were grave.
"Have you a reliable guide?"
"Far from it," answered the Professor. "If I knew where I could get another, I'd pack him off without ceremony."