nly one of them made a break--the young Indian whom Ted had dismounted.

For several moments not a word was said.

Ted saw instantly that the broncho boys had all the best of it, and that
the Indians had been taken completely by surprise, for not one of them
was armed. Their rifles and guns were either still on their saddles, and
the ponies were standing some distance away, or they were stacked beside
a ledge of rock twenty or more feet from the fire, where most of them
were congregated.

The young fellow whom Ted had foiled stared for a moment with a look of
contempt and dislike.

Suddenly he made a rush to where the guns were standing.

"Stop!" Ted's voice rang out sharply. But the youth continued to run.

"Stop, or I'll kill you!" shouted Ted again.

Then an old Indian cried out something, in the tongue of the Blackfeet,
and the young fellow halted suddenly and came walking back with a sickly
look on his face.

The old Indian who had stopped the youth now stepped a little ways
forward, and, holding up his hands in a peace sign, began to talk.

"You are my brothers," he said, "and Flying Sun, the medicine man,
welcomes you to our camp."

Ted held up his hands in a sign of peace also, but said nothing.

"He's a darned old hypocrite," said Ben, in an aside to Ted. "He has
murder in those little red eyes of his, if ever a man had."

"I'm on to him," said Ted. "Keep your eyes on that bunch, and give it to
them if they start anything treacherous."

"My white brothers come with peace for their red brothers. Join us at
the fire. Warm yourselves; eat of our meat."

"We are willing to be brothers," said Ted. "But one brother does not
steal the ponies from the corral of the other."

"That was the work of the young men, and they are now sorry for it,"
said the medicine man.

Ted looked at the young fellow whom he had unhorsed, and saw that his
face was distended in a sarcastic smile.

"The young brave yonder is the one who led the raid on my corral. He
does not look sorry," said Ted, pointing to the offender.

Flying Sun threw a glance in the direction of the young man, and said a
few words sharply in the Blackfeet tongue.

"Crazy Cow is young and the son of a chief. His blood is hot within him,
and he does not know what he does," said Flying Sun.

Crazy Cow's face at once assumed a look of sadness.

"I have not come for war," said Ted gravely, "but I want to warn you and
your tribe that I will not stand