"Fellows, he doesn't know what he means."
"Guess he's been feeding on crazy grass out on the prairie," was Ned's conclusion.
"There isn't an Indian anywhere around here. I know it. They would have been after us long before this, if there had been."
One by one the boys came from their hiding places, the lazy Mexican last. Disapproving eyes were turned on Stacy.
"Chunky, you come along and show us where you were when you shot—did you shoot at an Indian?" asked Tad.
"Yes, and I—I—I shot him."
"Show us. We're all from Chillicothe," demanded Ned.
Stacy, with a show of importance, led the way, keeping a wary eye out for the enemy. It was noticed, however, that each of the lads held his rifle ready for business in case there should be an enemy about.
"There! I was standing right over there—I guess."
"You guess! Don't you know?" questioned the Professor.