"What do you mean?"
"That by Moqui law if a white man is caught looking on at their fal-de-lals and fandangos, he is tortured to death."
"Hum! I guess I don't want to see one as badly as I thought I did," muttered Tubby.
At this instant there came a sharp ring at the telephone. Mr. Harkness hastened to the instrument and took up the receiver. His face paled, and then broke into a joyous smile as he heard the voice at the other end.
"News of Rob!" he shouted, wheeling about.
Instantly they pressed forward about him, eager to hear.
"He's——Hullo! Yes. What's that? Oh, yes. Boys, Rob was at Red Flat some time ago. He is now mounted and on his way here. I am talking to Mr. Mayberry, the Indian agent, who saved him from a terrible death."
"How far is Red Flat from here?"
"About twenty miles, and the boy has a good horse."
"He ought to be here in a couple of hours, then?"