_INDIAN TRADING_
Much to the disgust of Tommy Sharpe, Kie Wicks was a guest at the
Judge's table that day. Kie was beaming with self-satisfaction. He
felt that he had put over a good deal and could afford to be genial.
Kie's plan was to let the ruffians hold the claim until he could make
arrangements to put men to work and dig out the treasure in the tunnel.
Kie did not doubt for a moment that the treasure was there. And
tonight he intended to investigate and see how much needed to be done.
If he could handle it alone, so much the better.
Kit and Bet arrived when the meal was half finished and pretended to be
hurt at the teasing that they encountered. They decided to wait until
the family was alone before saying anything about the capture of the
tunnel. Kie might get ugly and actually harm the old man.
"Saw your playmate, Young Mary, coming up the canyon today," said Kie,
glad of some new excitement for the girls, to take their minds off the
professor for a while.
"Oh, is Mary home?" cried Kit happily. "I do want to see her!"
"Yes, Young Mary is here with a dozen other Indians of all sizes and
shapes," grinned Kie. "They sure are a funny looking crowd."
Kit herself might have made the same remark, but coming from Kie, she
resented it.
"Where are they?" exclaimed Bet. "I'll pay them a visit. Do you think
they will make some baskets for me?"
"You can never tell a thing about them. If they need money, they will,
but like as not they'll refuse. This is their vacation, they come up
every year to pick mesquite beans and piñon nuts," Kit informed them.
"Let's go down right after lunch and see them," proposed the girls, but
Kit hesitated.
"We might frighten them away if we are too anxious," she said.
"Indians are very shy."
"I'll say they are," smiled Tommy. "And about as friendly as a block
of ice."
"Why Tommy Sharpe, how can you say such a thing? There's Old Mary and
Indian Joe, they are the most friendly people in the world. There
isn't anything they wouldn't do for Mum and Dad and me. And they think
you're a great man!" Kit defended them.
"Old Mary and Joe are altogether different. Indian Joe is just like a
white man!" answered Tommy.
"And good as gold!" emphasized Kit.
"The only good Indian is a dead Indian," Kie Wicks exclaimed
dramatically.
Kit flared up, but Bet soothed her.
"Remember we are already even with Kie Wicks," she whispered.
Kit nodded her head. "Just the same I don't like to hear Indians
talked about like that. It always makes me angry."
After lunch, much to the joy of Kie Wicks, the girls decided to walk
down into the canyon and see the Indians.
Kit ran home first, for she was sure that she would find Young Mary
there, and she wanted to see the girl alone. With the other girls she
might be shy.
So it was Bet who called the Judge aside, to a safe distance, from Kie
Wicks' eager ears, and told him of the capture of the tunnel.
"And those fellows said that Kie put them up to it and that it is Kie
who took the old man. He's safe, they said, but I'm not so sure about
that."
"I wouldn't worry about him. Kie Wicks has no reason to harm the
professor," declared Judge Breckenridge. "Now I'll tell you what we'd
better do. You and the girls go along down the trail and visit the
Indian camp. That is evidently what Kie wants you to do. I'll send
Tommy over to the tunnel with two men to start the excavation work and
maybe by the time we get the professor back, we'll have something to
show him. Who knows, Bet? Sometimes I'm half hopeful, although my
common sense tells me there isn't anything there."
"Don't use so much common sense, Judge. It's lots of fun to dream. I
wish Dad were here, he'd love this. He'd have the whole thing worked
out, he'd be able to see the Spaniards who buried the treasure and all
the rest of it. Dad's wonderful!"
"He is, Bet. I agree with you, and I wish that he would make us a
visit, he half promised, you know."
"Yes, but in his last letter he said he'd not be able to come," Bet
added with a sigh, for the separation from her father was a trial to
the motherless girl.
"All right, now you run along and don't say anything to the girls--not
yet. Make a lot of fuss about going to see the Indians and pretend
you're crazy about them."
"I don't have to _pretend_ that, I am crazy to see them. Oh, I do hope
they will like me and want to be friends."
The Judge laughed at the girl's enthusiasm.
"They will, Bet, they can't help themselves, if they are human at all."
Bet turned away without noticing the delicate compliment that the Judge
had paid her. In her heart she was really concerned for fear she might
not be able to get on friendly terms with the Indians.
Judge Breckenridge joined Kie Wicks and his party, after giving
instructions to Tommy Sharpe, and he followed Kie on what he knew to be
a "wild goose chase." Kie flattered himself that he was being very
clever in keeping the searchers away from the old man.
The girls waited impatiently for Kit. "I do wish she would hurry,"
fussed Bet. "What's keeping her?"
"Maybe she found Young Mary there, as she hoped, and as it's been such
a long time since they've seen each other, they'll need to do a lot of
talking to make up for lost time."
But Kit's meeting with her Indian friend was very different from what
the girls pictured.
Even Kit was surprised and a little hurt at the lack of interest in her
childhood friend.
The Indian girl was already dressed in the bright silk gown that Kit
had brought her. Kit caught the girl in her arms and squeezed her
tight. But Young Mary was as rigid as a post. Not by word or sign did
she betray the fact that she was glad to see Kit.
But Kit understood. She saw a bright light in Mary's eyes and was
satisfied.
"Why Mary, you're a beauty in that dress. I want you to come over and
meet my friends."
Mary shook her head. She was already gliding away toward the canyon
where the Indians were camped by the stream. They had chosen the same
spot that the professor had used for a camping site.
And when Kit joined the group of Indians by the side of the creek she
realized that Mary was now a grown-up Indian woman. She did not run or
dance about any more, but seated herself with the squaws and seemed
happy.
Mary had returned to her people. There was no doubt about it. She
would never again be the chum of the white girl. There were times when
Kit felt angry; it seemed like a reflection on herself, on her loyalty.
The girls watched with amusement Young Mary's pride in her new dress.
There was a buzz of unintelligible comments from the squaws as they
pressed about the girl, fingering the material and patting the silk.
Kit learned before long why Mary was so preoccupied with herself. She
was in love. In love with a man of her own race.
Old Mary shrugged her shoulders and grunted her disapproval.
But in spite of her shrugs, the older woman was proud. Young Mary was
making a good choice. Andreas was a fine young Indian. He had a farm
of his own on the San Pablo. They were both young and could work and
would have many children to bless them.
As Kit had prophesied, the Indian women were not interested in basket
weaving. They shook their heads vehemently. Then at Bet's proposal
that they sell her some that were already made, the ones they carried
along, their heads shook more than ever and their grunts and frowns
were decisive. Kit translated it to the girls as a flat refusal. Flat
refusals always spurred Bet on to further efforts.
"I'll get those baskets yet," she declared. "I want them. What's more
I've got an idea."
"Go ahead Bet and dream your little dream. You never dealt with an
'injun' before. Now you've met your Waterloo." Kit laughed. At heart
she was rather pleased to see Bet go up against a losing proposition
for once.
Bet tossed her head impudently at her friend but made no answer. The
determination in her glance proved that she had not given up the
struggle.
And late in the afternoon when the girls again walked down the canyon,
Bet was decked out in such brightly colored beads that she might have
been mistaken for an Indian girl herself. Strings of red, blue, amber,
green and orange encircled her neck.
"What are you trying to do, Bet?" exclaimed Shirley with a laugh. "Are
you trying to show off in front of the squaws to make them jealous?"
Enid laughingly began to count the strings.
"Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like this," Kit interrupted.
"Oh, keep quiet, all of you! I can wear as many strings of beads as I
want to. It's the latest style," she retorted with a grimace. "I have
an object in wearing them."
"It's a bribe to get those baskets!" cried Kit delightedly. "And maybe
you will, at that. Your methods are sound and business-like. I
thought you'd met your match, but now I'm inclined to think they have."
They were nearing the Indian camp and Bet noticed with pleasure the
surprised glances of the squaws. They did not look at the other girls.
Bet was the center of attraction.
Finally one Indian woman drew near and put out a brown finger to touch
the bright objects. Bet smiled and waited. "You like beads?" she
asked.
The squaw nodded and was joined by another one. Soon Bet was
surrounded. "You want them?" There were as many grunts of acceptance
as there were women there.
"You sell me some baskets?" asked Bet. "Then you can have the beads."
The squaws looked at each other then back at the bright beads. They
sidled away, without a word.
Bet's heart stood still. She had lost! Kit's eyes were shining with
triumph.
But only for a moment. The Indian women were busily at work emptying
the contents of their baskets into blankets. They were evidently
preparing to give her the best they had. Bet got several small
jar-like baskets besides two large ones that were used to carry things
on their saddles.
They looked on in surprise when Bet paid them a good price for their
baskets and passed over the strings of beads as well.
There was a chorus of grunts and Kit again translated. The squaws were
congratulating themselves on their bargain. They were more than
satisfied. "I've known Indians all my life," Kit whispered to the
girls, "but I've never before seen them so pleased about anything! You
win, Bet!"
"I certainly do, Kit Patten. Come on, girls, lend a hand and let's get
these baskets home before they change their minds."
As they were going up the trail toward the ranch, Young Mary suddenly
appeared from a thicket of Palo Verde.
"Kit," she said softly.
Kit turned as if she had been shot. "Mary," she answered uneasily.
"What's the matter?"
Kit ran to the girl who now hesitated as if she were addressing a
stranger. Then suddenly, with what appeared to be an effort, she
whispered: "Your old man! He's in the hut over in Rattlesnake Creek,
and he's being guarded by some bad Indians from down the valley. Be
careful!"
And before Kit could stop her to ask any more questions, the Indian
girl glided away as softly as she had come.