ey're getting more and more interested in these Indians of the
Southwest," Frank continued; "and trying all the time to find out just
where they fit in the long-ago past. That's what made old Uncle Felix,
who had already made a name for himself, give up his happy home, and
hide all these months down here. He wants to learn the long-buried
secrets of the past history of the Zunis, the Moquis, and other tribes
that might have sprung from the old cliff builders."

"But what can we do with this fellow, Frank?"

"Oh! well, nothing much, I reckon," the other answered, carelessly. "He
must have been plum locoed at seeing the sheriff, and hardly knew what
he was doing when he set out to grab Buckskin. We'll just have to let
him sleep here till morning, and then give him a bite of breakfast."

"Just as you say, Frank; you ought to know what's best," Bob hastened to
declare. "Now I wonder what'll be the next thing on the programme? I
hope we don't have the two men the sheriff is hunting, drop in to make
us a call."

"Little danger of that now," Frank remarked reassuringly. "By this time
they're well on their way to Flagstaff. Here, Havasupai, as you call
yourself; we don't mean to do you any harm, even if you did play us a
mean trick when you tried to steal a mount. Understand?"

The old Indian looked up at Frank through his masses of coarse black
hair, just beginning to be streaked with gray.

"Not do any harm," he repeated, as though hardly able to grasp the
meaning of the words Frank spoke; then his brown face lighted up with a
grim smile. "White boys good; Havasupai glad him not take horse. Bad
Indian! But not always that way; him carry speaking paper tell how make
good," and he thumped his breast as he said this.

Again did Bob's eyes seek the face of his chum in a questioning manner.
Frank, having been raised amid such scenes, could more readily
understand what the Moqui meant when he referred to certain things which
Bob had never heard mentioned before.

"He means that he's got a letter of recommendation along with him,
written by some tourist, I reckon. Perhaps this old fellow may have
found a chance to do some one a good turn. He may have run across a
greenhorn wandering on the desert; saved a fellow who had been stabbed
by the fangs of a viper from the Gila; or helped him to camp when he
broke a leg in climbing around the Grand Canyon."

"Oh! I see what you mean, Frank; that this party wrote out a
recommendati