"Well, this is Injun code."
"Indian?"
"Sure. The Injuns have as distinct a smoke-signal code as we have a wireless system. It works just as good, too, from what I can hear. Now, if we had their code book we——"
"What, the Indians have a code book?"
"You bet."
"Where?"
"In their rascally heads, son, where it's safe," rejoined the cow-puncher.
"Hullo, look! There's an answer," cried Tubby, suddenly pointing to another hilltop some distance from the first.
Another thin column of smoke was rolling upward from it in evident answer to the first.
"Those fellows are making a date," decided the rough-and-ready Blinky. "I'd like to be on hand when they keep it, and maybe we'd find out something about Rob."