topping quickly.

The Indians stared at them, and grunted:

"How, how! Ugh!"

One of them, a villainous-looking half-blood, spoke up:

"What white boys do? shoot buffalo?"

"No," answered Frank, promptly, "we are not here to shoot them, but we
want to get a picture of them."

"Pic'ter? Hugah! No good!"

The half-blood was doubtful; he believed they had intended to shoot the
buffalo, and his eyes glittered with greed as he noted the handsome
rifles carried by the lads.

"Lemme looker gun," he said, stepping toward Frank, and holding out a
hand, nearly one-half of which had been torn away by some accident.

Now Frank knew there would not be one chance in a thousand of getting
back his rifle if he let the fellow have it, and so he decisively said:

"No, I will not let you look at it. Keep off! The soldiers will have you
for killing game in this park if you do not make tracks back to your
reservation."

"Ha! Soldiers fools! Half Hand not afraid of soldier. He watch up. They
be way off there to north, ten, twenty, thirty mile. No soldiers
round--nobody round. White boy lemme looker gun."

Again he advanced, his manner aggressive, and the boys realized they
were in a decidedly perilous situation.

CHAPTER XXV.

FAY.

"Th' spalpane manes ter kape it av he gits his hand on it," whispered
Barney. "It's murther he has in his oies."

Frank knew well enough that Barney was right, and he had no intention of
relinquishing his hold on his rifle for a moment. He fell back a step,
lifting the weapon in a suggestive manner, and Half Hand halted,
scowling blackly and smiling craftily by turns.

"Hold up!" came sharply from the lips of the boy. "Keep your distance,
or you will get damaged."

"Ha! White boy threaten Half Hand! Be careful! Half Hand good when him
not threatened; heap bad when him threatened. White boys two; Injuns big
lot more. White boys make Injuns mad, then where um be?"

"I have no desire to make you mad, but this is my rifle, and I mean to
keep it."

"Half Hand want to look."

"You may look at a distance, but you can't lay a hand on it."

"White boy heap 'fraid. Give gun back pretty quick bimeby."

"I fancy it would be bimeby. No, you cannot take it, and that settles
it."

"Mebbe Half Hand trade with boy."

"I do not wish to trade."

"Mebbe Half Hand give um heap good trade."

"Possibly, but that makes no difference."

"White boy fool!" snarled the half-blood. "If um don't l