Before Brad and Dan could make a move, White Nose leaped into the water. He submerged, and seemingly could not find Old Miquel’s body. In a moment though, he was back on the surface, holding Old Miquel by a lock of his long, black hair.
Eagle Feather helped to haul the old man out on the ledge.
“He’s done for,” he said, speaking in English. “His head was gashed on a rock.”
“The Gods have spoken,” muttered White Nose. “Vengeance is not to be ours. They have punished him for robbing his people of the Turquoise Toad.”
“Let us go,” replied Eagle Feather.
To the horror of the watching Cubs, the two Indians made no attempt to revive the old man. Taking it for granted that he already was beyond help, they quitted the cavern.
Brad, Dan and Red waited only until they were certain that the two Indians did not intend to return.
Then, they went quickly to the old man who lay motionless on the ledge. Brad stripped off his jacket and placed it over the wet body. The old fellow did not stir.
“He wasn’t under water long enough to have taken much into his lungs,” the boy declared, feeling of the Indian’s pulse. “Got a handkerchief?”
Dan produced one which the older boy used to staunch the flow of blood at Old Miquel’s temple.