as standing guard. He had been pacing
backward and forward for some hours, and it was almost time for his
relief, when he saw, peering over the top of a rock, what he took to be
the feathered headdress of an Indian. Forgetting, for the moment that
the Yaquis did not adopt the picturesque adornments of the American
redmen, Bud fired, at the same time letting out a yell.

Of course, this roused the whole camp, and you can appreciate Bud's
chagrin when his "Indian" proved to be nothing more than a waving
branch of a bush topping a rock. The waving leaves had looked like
feathers in the starlight, by which alone Bud had seen them.

"Well, I wasn't taking any chances," he said, when the cause of his
alarm was ascertained.

"That's right," Yellin' Kid assured him.

Morning saw the party in saddle again, and as better time could be made
on the down trail, they reached the intervening plain of the valley,
between the two mountain ranges well before noon.

A halt was made for "grub," and it was after this meal, when they were
about to proceed again, that an astounding discovery was made. Dick
gave the alarm. He had gone off a little way to get his pony, which
had strayed, when he saw, on the far horizon, a band of horsemen. They
were too distant to be made out clearly, but against the intensely blue
sky Dick saw waving lances, and he at once shouted:

"Indians!"

This was enough to focus all eyes, first on him and then on the
approaching band. The waving lances could plainly be seen now.

"And look there!" cried Nort, as he pointed to the North, a direction
exactly opposite to that whence the horsemen discovered by Dick were
approaching.

"More Indians!" shouted Yellin' Kid.

Snake Purdee leaped to a high rock and with rapid gaze swept the
horizon.

"They're coming from all directions," he said grimly, as he leaped down
and began a rapid survey of their position, with a view to its defence.
"We're being surrounded!"

And this was so. From all points there rode in on the outfit from
Diamond X an ever narrowing circle of horsemen, many of whom carried
lances which pointed toward the zenith.

"They aren't Yaquis," exclaimed Rolling Stone. "Those Mexican Indians
don't carry lances. They must have met up with a band from some
American reservation and have gotten them to go on the warpath. This
looks bad!"

CHAPTER XV

WITH THE TROOPERS

With a skill and foresight which never seemed to leave them