.

"Now, what d'ye think of that?" ejaculated Bob, in disgust. "While we
were away from camp for ten minutes, something happened. Why couldn't it
have come about when we were on deck? There's a fine chance lost to get
track of Havasupai; for I reckon you believe the same as I do, Frank,
and that the old Moqui whom Charley saw was _our_ Indian?"

"Seems like it, Bob," replied the other, "but don't cry yet. Perhaps it
may not be too late to remedy matters. See here, Charley Moi, could you
show me just where you saw this Moqui last?"

The yellow-skinned guide smirked, and nodded his head until his pigtail
bobbed up and down like a bell rope.

"Easy do," he observed, beginning to get upon his feet.

"Come along Bob," remarked Frank. "We'd all better be present. Three
heads are better than one when it comes to a question of deciding what's
to be done."

"Do you think you can track him, Frank?" questioned the Kentucky boy,
eagerly.

"I'm going to try," was all Frank would say; for he was very modest with
regard to his accomplishments as a son of the prairie.

Charley Moi was as good as his word. He seemed to remember just where he
had happened to spy the passing Indian when looking up from the making
of the fire. The Moqui had paid no attention to him; indeed, at the time
he was creeping past as though taking advantage of the absence of the
two boys in order to make a circuit of the camp near the big cliff.

"Find 'em Frank?" asked Bob, after he had seen his chum bending down
over the ground for half a minute.

"Yes, and they are the tracks of an Indian too, for they toe in," Frank
replied. "Besides, they are made by moccasins instead of shoes or boots
with heels. And if I needed any further proof to tell me our friend
Havasupai made these tracks, and not a strange Moqui, I have it in the
queer patch across the toe of his right moccasin, which I noticed when
he was with us before."

"That's just fine!" Bob exclaimed, filled with pride over the way in
which his chum seemed able to fix the facts so that they could not be
questioned. "And will you start after him right away, Frank?"

"Watch me; that's all," came the reply, as Frank began to move away,
still bending low in order to follow the faint traces of footprints on
the rock and scanty soil.

The others came close at his heels, Bob with a look of assurance on his
face, because he felt positive that the game would now be tracked to its
hiding place; and Charl