"The horse was a strong one, and could easily carry both of us, and though I wiggled around a good bit and yelled, the Indian didn't let go of me. On and on he rode, carrying me off, and the other Indians rode ahead of us, and on either side. I couldn't get away, no matter how I tried.
"After a while the Indians, who had been out hunting, came to where their tents were. This was their camp, and then I was lifted down off the horse and given to a squaw."
Teddy simply had to ask some questions now.
"A squaw is a Indian lady, isn't she?"
"Yes," answered Baldy, "that's what she is."
"Well, I shouldn't think she'd want to take you," went on the little boy. "I thought the Indian men always kept the prisoners, and you were a prisoner, weren't you?"
"Yes," answered Baldy, and there was a queer smile on his face, "but I guess I forgot to tell you that the time I was captured by the Indians I was a little boy, not as big as you, Curlytop. And the reason they picked me up off the prairie was that I had wandered away from my home and was lost. So the nice squaw kept me until one of the Indian men had time to take me home."
"Then didn't the Indians hurt you?" asked Janet.
"Not a bit. They were very good to me," the cowboy said. "Some of them knew my father and mother. That's the only time I was ever captured by the Indians, and I'm afraid it wasn't very much of a story."
"Oh, it was very nice," said Teddy politely.