“Do you think the Apaches drugged the pool?” asked Dell.
“Who else could it have been if not the Apaches?”
“But what do they know about drugs?”
“Geronimo, they say, knows many things the white men do not dream of. There are herbs growing in this country which are said to have powerful medicinal properties. Indians, as a rule, are versed in the use of herbs.”
“It is all very dark to me,” said the girl helplessly. “If Geronimo drugged the pool from which we drank, in the valley, why was he not there to make prisoners of us?”
“Some of the Apaches may have put on these manacles as we find them; then, in some manner, we may have eluded the Apaches and got away. It’s all guesswork, Dell, and one guess is as good as another.”
“But Cayuse!” exclaimed Dell, taking sudden thought of the little Piute. “Where can he be?”
The scout lifted his voice in a loud cry: “Cayuse! Cayuse!”
Echoes alone answered him, booming out across the dizzy chasm that lay under the outer edge of the shelf.
“There’s no telling where he is,” said Dell. “Had we not been manacled together like this, quite likely we should have become separated from each other.”