what we Indians do--making blankets or pottery or building hogans or
making ceremonial altars. But I don't notice any of you really wanting
to help us."

Roger cast a bewildered look about him but the other bronzed faces
betokened full acquiescence with Jo's words.

"But why did you learn your trades so well?" he asked, finally.

"Interested in the idea--and it helps us compete with the whites, when
necessary!"

"Then you really don't care about my finishing the plant?"

"Why should we?" returned Jo.

Roger sighed and scratched his head. "Then why did you come at all?"

"The chief asked us and we knew Charley. She's been kind to me and I
wanted to help her out."

"If the whole gang of you would give me just two more days we could
finish in good shape," pleaded Roger.

"You can get along," replied Jo. "We've done what we promised."

"Yes, you have, and a bully job. But--well, I'm floored. I just can't
get your point of view." Roger's voice was rueful.

Jo laughed. "And we can't get yours."

There was an extra good supper that night and formal thanks on the part
of Charley. Then, in the moonlight, the whole picturesque caravan moved
off up the mountain trail.

Charley, returning to the living room, said, "Well, children, I'm
cheerful in spite of the fact that there's not two days' food left in
the house."

"I've got a little credit still at Hackett's," said Roger. "I think
Gustav had better go in to Archer's in the morning. I think my freight
must be there from the Dean and we should be hearing from Ernest."

Dick, smoking in the doorway, nodded, then repeated the remark that he
had made on the average of once an hour ever since Friday. "There isn't
a well like mine in a radius of a hundred miles."

Gustav brought back two weeks' food supply, the freight from the Dean
and letters from Ernest. They were very noncommittal but cheerful. He
had cleared up the misunderstanding with the Smithsonian Institution,
but as yet had no money and did not know when he could get back.

"Well," said Roger, "we've got grub for a week or so. I'm not quite sure
whose grub it is. These two camps seem to me to have become helplessly
entangled."

"Who cares!" said Elsa.

"Not you, young woman," returned Charley, dryly. She still seemed
indifferent to Dick but there was no mistaking her warm enthusiasm over
Elsa as a sister.

"I'm going to cut the first five acres to-morrow," said Dick. "That will
solve the most press