ith the Brewsters since he was
a boy of twelve, he felt that he was one of the family and he treated
Polly as if she were a younger sister.

"Never mind Noddy, this time, Polly, but let Jeb jump into the saddle
and start off. He'll never reach Mike's cabin if you keep on arguing
about the burros," said Mrs. Brewster, coming out to call them to
breakfast.

Jeb had gone on to secure the company of Rattle-Snake Mike, and Mr.
Brewster sat impatiently on his horse, waiting to guide the party of
women, when all but Barbara were ready; then she came out while still
munching her tardy breakfast.

As the riders passed the Rainbow Cliffs, the rays of the rising sun
gilded their peaks, and the girls exclaimed at the beauty of the stones
as they reflected the myriad colors of a rainbow. Then on down through
the Devil's Causeway and out on the Sand Trail, rode the adventurers,
until they saw Jeb and Mike riding to meet them.

"Mike says we-all ain't the fust ones to start up Grizzly Slide, this
mornin'," said Jeb, the moment he was within hearing.

"U-um! Plenty fool go by!" grunted Mike.

Mike was an entirely new type to the city girls, and they studied him
with interest. He was a swarthy-looking Indian; perhaps, as Mr. Brewster
said, because he smoked himself brown. He always rode his famous Indian
pony and carried an evil-looking gun, besides the revolvers in his belt.
Another weapon he had, as evil but not quite so fatal to others as the
gun--and that was his old pipe, as black as the Asiatic plague.

Mike was a descendant of a famous Chieftain, so he seldom noticed the
miners or common natives about Oak Creek, but he considered himself an
equal of educated people like the Brewsters. Hence his willingness to
act as guide for this party, after he had refused tempting offers from
the "scorned" early that morning.

"Now we'll turn off at the Forks and ride fast to meet Simms and his
party," advised Mr. Brewster, when they reached the place where the
trails forked.

"Mike says there's the old Indian Trail up the mountain, that cuts off
half the distance to the Slide," called Jeb, from the front.

"Him bad trail--no like Top Notch," warned the Indian.

"Whereabouts will we hit it, Mike?" asked Mr. Brewster.

"Onny Mike say--him secret Indian Trail," explained the red-man, ever
faithful to his ancestors.

"Well, will we pass Pine Tree where we are to meet Simms and the
sheriff?" added Mrs. Brewster.

"Na! him run awa