“Huh!  Lie!”

Tad’s face burned.  He could scarcely resist the impulse to resent the imputation that the savage had cast upon him.  He conquered the inclination with an effort.

“Sir, we had no wish to interfere with you.  We came here to get one of our men who had come here to gamble.  If you will release us we will return to our camp and give you no further trouble.  I promise you that.”

“T-h-h-h-at’s so,” chattered Chunky.

“Keep still,” whispered Tad.  “You’ll get us into more trouble.”

The chief appeared to be debating the question in his own mind, when one of the men, whom Tad recognized as a member of the gambling circle, whispered something to the chief.

The chief’s eyes blazed.  Uttering a succession of gutteral sounds, he gave some quick directions to the red men near him.

“He makes a noise like a litter of pigs,” muttered Chunky.

Acting upon the chief’s direction two braves grabbed the lads, and hurried them away, Tad meanwhile watching for an opportunity to break away.  Had he been alone, he felt sure he could do so safely.  But he would not leave his companion, of course.

The Apaches took the boys a short distance from the camp, planked them down roughly with their backs to a rock.

“Now, I wonder what next?” muttered Tad.

While one of the braves stood guard over them, the second trotted back to the camp, returning after a few minutes with a third savage who carried a rifle.

The boys were sure then that they were to be shot.

“Huh!  You run, brave shoot um!” warned one of the first pair, after which parting injunction the two captors strode away, leaving their companion to guard the boys.

For a few moments the Indian walked up and down in front of them, keeping his eyes fixed on the lads.  Tad noted that he walked rather unsteadily.  Finally, the guard sat down facing them, some ten feet away.

“Well, you’ve certainly gone and done it this time, Chunky,” said Tad in a low voice.  “What on earth made you do a crazy thing like that?”

“I—­ I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s too late for regrets.  All we can do will be to make the best of our situation and watch for an opportunity to get away.”

For several minutes the boys sat gazing at the stolid figure before them.  Tad’s mind was working, though his body was not.

“Make believe you’re going to sleep, but don’t overdo it,” whispered Tad.

This was something that Stacy could do, and he did it with such naturalness that Tad could not repress a smile.

“That Indian is dazed from his excitement, and if we make him think we’re asleep he’s likely to relax his vigilance,” mused Tad, as the two boys gradually leaned closer together, soon to all appearances being wrapped in sleep.  Little by little the Indian’s head nodded.

Finally he toppled over to one side, the rifle lying across his feet.