agreed Floyd. "And now that there's a chance of ransom
money--or these beggars think there is--I reckon they're less anxious
than before to whack it up.

"That's it! They're taking us as far off as they can to keep the cash
among themselves, and, meanwhile, Paz leads the main body away from us."

"But what that move means I'd like to know," mused Rosemary.

It was rather a puzzle to her and her brother. All they were sure of
was what they saw--that the Yaquis had separated, most of them
following Paz, while the captives were left in charge of the villainous
Mike and his selected followers.

Rosemary slipped her hand into her pocket to feel the handle of her
automatic.

CHAPTER XIX

THE FIGHT

The discovery of the Indian trail, and the unmistakable evidence that
the marks had been left by a band of Yaquis, was the most encouraging
news the boy ranchers and their friends had received since starting out
to rescue Rosemary and Floyd. It was a fortunate meeting with the U.S.
Troopers.

"Only for that," observed Bud, as he rode along with his cousins, "we'd
have been way off. We were headed just in the opposite direction when
we took to cover thinking the Yaquis were coming after us."

"Yes, and the longer we traveled the farther off we'd be," agreed Nort.
"It's lucky all around."

"It'll be luckier when we come up to this band of Greasers and take
Rosemary and Floyd away," declared Dick.

"Just think!" exulted Nort. "We'll soon be taking part in a real
Indian fight! I didn't think there could be such a thing outside of a
novel."

"Are these Yaquis real Indians?" asked Dick. "They don't impress me
that way. Seems more like fighting some low down colored men."

"I wouldn't insult a decent negro by comparing him to an Indian of the
present Yaquis tribe," laughed Bud. "They aren't at all alike. But
the Yaquis are real Indians of one of the Mexican races--a race that
was once among the best. Of course, even then, they weren't like our
American Indians."

"I guess I'm looking for tomahawks and scalping knives and listening
for warwhoops!" admitted Dick. "I have an Indian stone pipe home, with
a long flat stem, made of a piece of oak, with designs burned in it.
Around one end are wound some red and blue beads, and the stem has some
old faded ribbons tied to it. Have the Yaquis anything like that?" he
asked Bud.

"Not that I know of. The present generation smoke cigarettes when they
can get