Tad scrambled to his feet, with a quick glance at the top of the
ridge, where, but a moment before, half a dozen rifles had been
leveled at Chunky and himself.

Not an Indian was in sight. Tad was amazed. He could not understand
it. Grabbing Stacy by an arm he hurried him up the other side of the
gulch, where they quickly joined their companions.

"What does this mean?" demanded the Professor.

"Hurry! We must get out of this. It's Indians!"

"They-- they wanted to scalp us," interjected Stacy.

"But you runned away, eh? Brave man!" chuckled Ned.

"Indians! There are no Indians here.

"I'll tell you about it when we get to camp. They were just about to
shoot at us when you appeared up here."

"'Pache bad Injun," vouchsafed Juan.

"Were those Apaches?" questioned Tad.

The guide shrugged his shoulders.

"I was sure they were, though I do not think I ever saw an Apache
before. They don't live about here, do they, Juan?"