"I'd hurt too many people's feelings if I told you what I think about it," answered Kit.

"Go on, don't mind us. Say what's on your mind," laughed Tommy.

"Well, I'm surprised, Tommy Sharpe, that you would fall for that old story about a treasure being buried here. I thought boys were supposed to be clever," Kit said contemptuously.

"There's a treasure there all right," Tommy stated it with certainty. "I have Ramon Salazar's word for it. He looked me in the eye and told me."

"Now I know you're not telling us the truth. Ramon Salazar couldn't look one straight in the eye." Kit dropped into a chair, shrieking with laughter as she visualized Ramon Salazar trying to look anyone straight in the eye, for he was the most weirdly cross-eyed person she had ever seen.

"Maybe that's why he could look at me and lie like a pirate," replied Tommy. "I paid him five good dollars for that map."

"You must have been crazy, Tommy."

"I wasn't. Ramon knew I had that five dollars, and if I hadn't given it to him, he would have stolen it."

"There's something fishy about the whole story, Tommy. There must have been some other reason for Ramon Salazar wishing that old map off on you." Kit knew the dwellers in the hills. "I can bet a nickel on it that he thought you might get interested and dig for the treasure and maybe find it." Suddenly Kit jumped up, "And I bet a dime on top of that that Kie Wicks was back of it."

"And I have reason to think you are right, Kit. Kie came in one day, saw the map and claimed that Ramon had stolen it from him, but when I offered it to him for nothing, he refused. Said that would be taking advantage of me."

Kit gave a boisterous shout of laughter. "Oh girls, if you only knew Kie Wicks, you'd see the joke of that. Why that man lives by taking advantage of people, and he never puts through a deal of any kind without cheating. He's notorious. That's his business in life, to take advantage of people."

Tommy smiled. "I think Kie had a lot to do with it. I think he put Ramon up to selling it to me. But I don't know why."

"I wonder why Kie didn't take back the map when you offered it to him? That surprised me. Usually he doesn't turn down any kind of a gift."

"He didn't need this map," said Tommy quietly.

"How do you know?"

"Because the map had been copied before I got it. The tracing marks were on it for a full day, then disappeared. I don't pretend to know why," Tommy turned away from the map, and one could see that he was not interested.

"It's a mystery," exclaimed Enid. "Get to work, Bet Baxter. The mystery of the treasure map! We'll give you a week to solve the problem."

"Don't do it, Bet, please don't! If you go mooning away about treasures and all that sort of thing, we'll miss half the fun of the ranch. When you hunt for treasure, it's work, work, work! And a big disappointment in the end," advised Kit Patten.

"I've always had a yearning to dig for something. Once when I was a little girl, Uncle Nat was digging in our garden and he found an old rusty cannon ball and a piece of a flintlock, and ever since that I've always wanted to get a shovel and dig." Bet's voice had a longing in it that set the girls into screams of laughter.

"You ridiculous girl!" cried Joy affectionately. "You would try to start something!"

"But you'll have to acknowledge that Bet usually finds what she goes out after," remarked the quiet Shirley, pointing her camera toward the canyon wall opposite Tommy's door. "And while we usually object, we've never had more fun or thrills than when she leads us into adventure."

"Maybe so. But..." began Joy.

"And so I say," continued Shirley, "let Bet lead the way and we'll follow. If it's treasure, we'll help her dig. And if she goes in for fancy bronco busting, that's O. K. too."

"Oh, Shirley, don't say that! You make me feel responsible and I don't want that. Let's not make any plans at all. Just be ready to do whatever comes our way. That's always more fun." Bet liked to have the thrill of unexpected adventure, hoping that something new would come their way.

"I have my heart set on teaching some of you to rope a steer," Kit spoke up.

"Sure! It wouldn't do at all for them to go back east before they'd learned that," agreed Tommy, his eyes glowing at the prospect of showing off his skill with the rope.

"It isn't as hard as it looks," Kit encouraged the girls.

"I imagine we'll find it harder than it looks," laughed Bet as she tore herself away from the map. "It doesn't look a bit difficult when that rope twirls through the air. I've seen it in the movies and once I tried it with the clothes line but I couldn't do more than get the rope around my own neck. I know I'll never learn."

"Before the summer is over, Bet, you'll be a regular cowboy. I'll teach you myself," Tommy asserted.

"And I don't want to be taught. I'm sure I'd hate it," exclaimed Joy.

"Nobody will learn if we are going to get interested in treasure maps and that sort of thing," pouted Kit.

Bet spoke up firmly: "I've decided not to go treasure hunting. As a work of art, that map is a treasure in itself, I love it, but I'm going to leave the treasure hunting to Tommy and Kie Wicks and the cross-eyed Mexican."

Bet was so positive in her assertion that the treasure could remain in the ground for all she cared, that no one guessed that before the month was out, not Bet alone, but all The Merriweather Girls would have no thought of anything except that treasure, and all the adventure it brought.

From early morning until late at night their one interest would be unravelling the mystery of Lost Canyon.

Even the old professor whose mind was set on Indian relics, would forget his errand to the hills and all that it involved and be heart and soul in the venture of the hidden treasure.

For Fate upsets all plans and leads into strange and undreamed-of adventures.



CHAPTER VIII

KIT'S HOME FOLKS

Kit's greeting to her quiet, undemonstrative father was as effusive as he would allow it to be. She threw both arms about him with a cry of joy but all he said was: "You're home! That's good!" His tall, stooped figure was that of a hard working man, an outdoor man. His face bore criss-cross wrinkles stamped by the winds and heat of the mountain.

It was from him that Kit had inherited her deep-set brown eyes, her tall, slight body. Father and daughter were very much alike in looks but her mother had given her a disposition of joyousness that her silent father admired but utterly lacked.

Kit knew her father's way. She saw the happiness in his eyes and knew that he had missed her, perhaps even more than her sociable mother had done. Ma Patten could make friends with everybody who came near, and in that way she had worked off a lot of her loneliness at her daughter's absence. But Dad Patten confided in no one, not even Ma knew what was in his heart.

After the greeting was over the old man turned to the professor and continued his conversation without another glance at Kit. One could see that the professor and the mountaineer were already friends. Not many words had passed between them by way of introduction but the vigorous handshake assured the city man that he was welcome, and only when they began to talk of Indians and their ways did Dad Patten speak. The two men were in the middle of a discussion when Kit arrived home.

After a few minutes she disappeared and the next thing the professor saw was Kit trying to embrace a stout old squaw. But the two years separation from Indian Mary had made Kit a stranger to her, at least one would judge so by the graven image attitude she put on.

Kit grabbed her by the shoulder. "Now look here, Mary, don't put on any airs with me. Didn't you pretty nearly bring me up? Why, I'm almost like your own child. Tell me, don't you love me almost as much as you do Young Mary?"

The Indian woman shook her head for no, but Kit laughed. "I don't believe you! You always liked me better than Young Mary.—Where is she? I brought her something from New York."

"Where? What?" asked Old Mary.

"I want to give it to Young Mary myself. It's so pretty that if you saw it first you'd never let Mary have it. Where is she?"

"Way off visiting at the reservation. Pretty soon she come home. Lots of Indians come soon."

"I'm so disappointed," exclaimed Kit. "Here, I brought something for you, too." And Kit held out a large package.

The old Indian woman unwrapped the large bundle and disclosed a dress. Kit had chosen it with the idea of pleasing her old nurse, who, above everything else, delighted in bright clothes. A pleasing mixture of reds and yellows; modernistic, they called it in New York, but in Arizona it was just plain "Injun Caste."

The old woman gave grunts of satisfaction as she patted the bright cloth, then scurried away to show her treasure to her husband, Indian Joe. He hurried out and shook hands with Kit and beamed on her when Old Mary displayed her gown. The Indian was more up-to-date than his wife. He had been to school when young and knew the ways of the white people.

Kit extended a package to Indian Joe.

"Ah!" breathed Mary excitedly when Joe undid the string and she saw a pair of comfortable felt slippers. "He like much," she said with a nod of her head.

But when they saw a stranger watching them from the window they became embarrassed and wanted to hide away until Kit told them that Professor Gillette was a great friend of the Indians and would want to meet them and get acquainted.

Old Mary shook her head with disapproval. It took her a long time to make up with strangers. But Joe was different. When Kit told him that the professor was going to pitch a tent in the canyon and live there for the summer, he nodded and said: "Me fix him up. Joe knows where."

And Kit knew by that that Indian Joe and the stranger would be friends.

The professor had studied his Indians well. He waited patiently for the proper chance to introduce himself. It came the first evening. Joe and Old Mary always built a little bonfire back of their shack and sat around it, as they had done in previous days when outdoor cooking was their custom. In fact they had never outgrown the habit of preparing a meal over the glowing coals.

But on this evening the fire was only to look at. And very quietly the professor approached and squatted down beside them. He merely nodded and then stared into the fire as Indian Joe was doing.

This continued for a long time, then the professor got up as quietly, said goodnight and left.

After that Indian Joe and Old Mary were his devoted friends.

The professor returned to the house as pleased as if he had already found the ancient ruins that he was seeking.

"I'm afraid you can't expect to get much help from the Indians," remarked Dad Patten. "There's a legend in these mountains to the effect that Indians massacred a band of white men, and the daughter of the old Indian chief cursed her own people. Within a year the tribe had died out or wandered away. The village was deserted. Now the daughter is supposed to appear at times when there is treachery going on, a sort of warning to those who are doing wrong."

"That's a good idea," laughed Professor Gillette. "It has probably kept many a man on the straight path."

"Maybe so, but I haven't ever noticed it. There is plenty of crookedness goes on in the canyon. And no one, Indian or white man, is safe from the ghost."

"Ah, that's interesting!" exclaimed the professor rubbing his hands together in his excitement.

"The Mexicans believe it to a man," broke in Kit. "They will hardly come into the canyon at night, especially if they have anything on their conscience. Some white men are afraid of that ghost. Maybe you believe in ghosts yourself, Professor Gillette?"

"No, I'm afraid not. But that ghost does complicate matters. The Indians will not want to give me any information and I had planned to save time by winning their confidence."

"Don't worry," replied Dad Patten. "Make friends with them and sooner or later they'll let it slip out without meaning to. That is if they know anything about a lost village. And truly, Professor, we always thought that was just a lot of silly talk about there being an ancient Indian town near here. I've never seen it and I've never seen anyone else who has. So I doubt it."

"We'll see." The professor's eyes were aglow once more at the prospect of finding the ruins and winning glory for himself. "If there is one here, we'll find it, if it takes all summer. And now I'm very tired and I'd like to go to bed," he added as simply as a child.

Ma Patten was in her glory. Here was another person for her to mother. And she fluttered around the old man as if he were indeed a child.

Long before daylight the next morning, Professor Gillette was awake and he waited impatiently for the first sign of life in the house. It would never do, he thought, to disturb the family on his first morning in their house.

But he did not have to wait long. Dad Patten was an early riser and at the first sound the professor was ready to go out in the yard. Here he found Indian Joe already busy, going doggedly about his work, never in a hurry, never flustered but accomplishing a surprising lot of jobs during his long day.

He had brought in Kit's horse, a beautiful, dark, slender animal that pawed the ground and whinneyed impatiently.

Kit slipped from the house with a cry of joy. "Oh, Powder, you dear, dear old thing! I love you! And you'll never know how much I missed you!"

There was a sparkle in Joe's eye as he hastily put on the saddle while Kit ran into the house for her riding knickers. The professor watched admiringly as she swung into the saddle. Then he stood paralyzed with fear as the horse stood straight up on his hind legs, then with a sudden spring he reversed his position with his hind legs in the air.

Kit had half expected this performance and had put on spurs which she dug into his sides. Not for a second did she leave the saddle. She finally turned the horse's head toward the road and with a prod of the spurs sent the animal down it at a speed that made the professor gasp in fright. Every moment he expected to see the girl thrown against the jagged rocks at the side of the narrow thoroughfare. But Kit held the reins. Soon she was out of sight and the old man went in search of Dad Patten.

"Kit's horse is running away with her," he exclaimed, his hand trembling.

But Dad Patten and Indian Joe merely smiled. "It had to come," said the girl's father. "Whenever Kit leaves that horse, even for a week, she has to go through this. Powder wants to be boss and tries to win, but Kit is always master."

"She knows what she's doing," Ma Patten reassured the old man when he excitedly pointed out Kit far over the mesa, struggling with her pony who was once more bucking. "Kit has been riding a horse ever since she was a baby."

Kit returned half an hour later, her cheeks glowing, her eyes dancing with excitement. And when the professor voiced his fears to her, she replied: "You know I don't believe that horse would throw me. I think he goes just as far as he knows I can handle him. He's brainy, that pony! No one knows how I've missed him."

The professor looked at her with the same admiring glance as Jim Hawkins, the riding master on Campers' Trail, had done. His eyes were not seeing the fancy riding in quite such a professional manner as Jim, but nevertheless he gloried in the poise and daring of this slight bit of a girl. Things were very different when he was a boy. Then girls clung like plants and were sheltered.

The professor had never seen such riding and he stood staring over the mesa as Kit once more gave her horse the spurs.

In spite of her parents' confidence, he could not believe that Kit had the horse under control for the animal raced madly, then suddenly without any warning, stopped short and tried by every method known to a horse, to throw off his burden. He reared, he bucked, he "sun-fished" but all to no avail. The girl stuck to her saddle.

"Won't somebody help her?" the professor prayed desperately. "She will be killed!"



CHAPTER IX

LOST CANYON

The four girls at Casa Grande were hardly awake that first morning, when a shout brought them to the window.

It was Kit, seated on her spirited pony, that pawed the ground as she drew him up by the wall.

"Wake up, lazy girls!" cried Kit. "The Judge has been out for a ride before breakfast, and here you are missing the best part of the day. Come to the window and meet my friend, Powder."

"Oh, Kit," called Bet excitedly, "is that Powder? Do wait and let me ride him."

Kit laughed. "As I told you before, if you want to ride Powder after seeing how he acts with me, you can take a chance. He's trying to show me how much he loves me. Hurry up and get a bite to eat. I see Tommy getting the horses ready."

Much to the disgust of Tang, the girls hurried through their breakfast, hardly knowing what they were eating, so excited were they over the prospect of a ride in Lost Canyon.

"Are your western horses very wild?" asked Joy as she joined Kit in the courtyard. "I—I don't know how to ride very well."

"Don't worry, Joy! I brought you a safe one. We always give Dolly to people who can't ride well. She's as safe as a rocking chair."

Even Joy could feel no apprehension when she got into the saddle. Dolly was decidedly safe. On the least upgrade she puffed and stopped short to rest.

"Poor thing! She's all tired out!" exclaimed Bet, watching Joy's horse lumber up a heavy grade. "I think it's a shame, Tommy Sharpe, to let an old horse like that carry a load."

"I do sort of feel sorry for that horse, Dolly," drawled Kit. "Joy is such a heavy-weight that Dolly just has to puff. Why, she tips the scales at ninety-two pounds."

Everybody laughed and Tommy drew in his horse and waited until Joy came abreast on a level stretch. Then he reached over and dug into the horse's side.

Dolly leaped forward as Joy gave a cry of fright, but this only lasted for a moment. Dolly's speed was soon over and she settled back into her usually lazy pace.

"That horse is a cheat. If I were riding her she'd step along lively without urging. But she has a lot of sense and knows who is on her back," laughed Kit, offering Joy her quirt, which she carried only because it looked pretty. Powder never needed a quirt.

"Dolly isn't so very old. She's lazy!" said Tommy.

"Don't say that, Tommy. She isn't lazy, she was born tired," reproved Bet.

Joy refused the quirt. "Oh, I just couldn't use a whip, Kit. I just couldn't. Dolly's a nice horse and I wouldn't think of hurting her. I think you people are terribly hard-hearted and cruel." And as if Dolly understood just what was being said, she made for the shade of a large tree and stood still, and no amount of coaxing on Joy's part would make her budge.

"She won't do as I tell her, at all," pouted Joy.

"Then maybe you'll accept a quirt now and say 'thank you'," and Kit extended the quirt once more.

"I hate to use it," Joy looked bewildered, but the others were going on and would soon be far ahead. She brought the braided leather down on the side of the horse. Dolly sprang into action, galloped for a few minutes, then settled down to a jog trot. But by this time Joy was getting impatient. Again and again the quirt descended, and for a full minute at a time the horse trotted.

"Why you cruel, hard-hearted girl!" Bet shouted over her shoulder. "How can you bear to hit that gentle creature?"

Joy wrinkled up her nose at Bet and motioned her to go on.

"Keep up the good work," called Tommy Sharpe. "We'll never get over to Sombrero Butte to-day, if you let Dolly set the pace. I wish I had given you Oso. That's a mean little imp of a burro. But at that I believe he'd have gone faster than Dolly."

"Oh, Tommy, I'd love to ride a burro. Will you let me, truly?" begged Joy.

"And so do I want to ride a burro, Tommy. I'm always thrilled to pieces when I see the picture of one." Bet had a sudden inspiration. "Let's have a burro party some day and all ride burros. I think that would be fun."

"That's O.K. for me, if you ride them, Bet. As for me, I'll ride Powder," spoke Kit contemptuously. "Why should anyone want to ride one of those contrary little beasts? I think they are horrid."

They had suddenly followed a trail into a canyon, which brought them down into the bed of a stream.

"This is Lost Canyon!" Kit called to the girls.

"I wonder how places get their names?" asked Bet. "Why did they call this Lost Canyon?"

"Nobody knows," responded Kit. "When I was a very little girl I always felt sorry for it. I truly thought it was lost and in my childish mind I planned to have the canyon find itself someday. Wasn't that silly?"

The girls laughed heartily, and the echo of their voices came back to them from the walls of the canyon.

But soon they left the large stream and rode up over the mountain. Tommy had his heart set on reaching Sombrero Butte, a high and inaccessible peak shaped like a huge cowboy hat, that rose above a flat-topped mountain. On reaching the foot of the butte, the young people drew rein and dismounted.

"I'm glad to be on the ground again!" Joy exclaimed with a heavy sigh. "I don't care for horseback riding very much."

"What do you like, Joy? I mean in the way of sports. What do you like to do more than anything else?" asked Enid Breckenridge.

"I like dancing. I'm not as much of an outdoor girl as the rest of you. I go along, not because I like it, but I like the company. Now it's different with dancing, I could dance all day and all night."

"She's the ladylike member of The Merriweather Girls' Club," smiled Bet with an affectionate glance toward Joy. "She's a butterfly. As for me, I can't imagine why Fate played me such a mean trick as to send me into the world a girl, when I'd just love to have been a boy." Bet shot out the words with a vicious snap.

"Say, you girls don't know when you're well off." There was a wistful note in Tommy's voice. "People expect so much more of boys and are never satisfied with what we do, while you girls have your paths strewn with roses."

"Listen to him talk!" exclaimed Shirley. "I guess we girls have to struggle to live."

"And what girl wants her path strewn with roses anyway?" demanded Bet in disgust. "I want to have to fight my way, I want to do worth-while things. Right now, if I were a boy, I'd try to climb Sombrero Butte."

"Would you really do a silly thing like that, Bet Baxter?" asked Joy seriously. "I mean it. Tell me just why you'd do it?"

"I don't know why, but I'd do it because it would seem like a big thing to do. It would be hard work and when I accomplished it, I could always say, 'I climbed Sombrero Butte'."

"That's not much of an ambition. I should call that simply foolhardy!" Joy could never understand such a desire. It was too far away from her own temperament.

"Then," continued Bet, "I'd travel. I'd discover things, I'd find a new continent or a river or something. I'd like to go to South Africa and dig for diamonds. That would be romantic."

Joy laughed. "Now I can half-way understand that. Diamonds are worth while. If you were a man, whom would you bestow those diamonds on?"

"You—most likely. Men who do big things always fall hard for a handful of fluff like you," returned Bet, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"And there you'd show your good sense," Joy smiled in a provoking way. "I almost wish you were a man, Bet."

As everybody laughed Bet soon regained her poise. Such flare-ups were frequent with Bet, a sudden flash of fire and then calm. The girls understood her and did not resent her bursts of impatience.

Tommy Sharpe leaned over and picked up a small stone from the ground, exclaiming: "Look here, girls, while you're talking of discovering things, I find a treasure."

"What is it?" cried Bet grasping Tommy's closed hand. "Let me see?"

"An arrowhead!" Kit burst out contemptuously. "Not much of a discovery in that. I'm sick and tired of arrowheads."

"Why, I think it's wonderful to find one!" Bet examined the little sharpened piece of flint. "I wish I could find one."

"I'll let you have this one," Tommy offered.

"No, that wouldn't be the same. To make it a real treasure I must find one myself," answered Bet as she looked longingly at the stone.

The girls began to search the ground for arrow-heads, but Shirley was the only successful one and even her find was a doubtful treasure as it had a large nick in it.

"You don't need to worry, girls, you have all summer to find arrowheads, if that's what you want," laughed Kit.

"I have a cigar box full of them at home," said Tommy. "I'd like to give you some. But now we'd better be going. It will be dinner time before we get back to the ranch."

"Let's go!" Kit swung herself into the saddle and as Powder's spirit had returned he gave an exhibition of bucking and rearing that made Joy scream for she was certain that Kit would be dashed against the rocks. At Joy's scream, Powder took fright and madly raced down the steep trail with Kit clutching the saddle horn for dear life.

"Oh, Bet, she's going to be killed, I know it!" sobbed Joy. "Oh, I hate horses. Bet, do something! Kit will be hurt!"

"Don't worry about Kit. Just watch her and see how she sits in the saddle, for all the world as if she were part of the animal." Bet was fascinated by the skill with which Kit handled her horse, and she urged her pony forward so as to watch Kit more closely. It took all of Enid's and Shirley's persuasions to get Joy into the saddle.

"Come on, Joy, don't be a silly! Kit's a trained cowgirl. That horse can't unseat her."

Knowing that she was headed toward home, Dolly kept up a steady trot that covered the miles rapidly. There was no more stopping to pant and blow. Dolly knew that food and drink was waiting at the ranch.

Just as they reached the end of the canyon and prepared to take the trail to the ranch house, a slouching figure rose from the side of the canyon.

It was Kie Wicks.

"Well, well, and what are you folks doing in the canyon this morning?" he asked, for all the world as if he owned the whole district and feared that they were stealing from him.

"I took them over to Sombrero Butte," replied Tommy Sharpe. "I'm to show them all the interesting places in the mountains this summer."

Kie Wicks smiled, but the girls could see that he resented their presence there.

"That's a fine idea. I hope you'll bring them over to Cayuga. Maude will show them around," he invited cordially, yet as the girls turned their horses' heads up grade, Bet turned suddenly and was surprised at the look of hatred and distrust that was in the face of the storekeeper.

"I wonder why he dislikes us so much," thought Bet, but decided not to pass on her knowledge to the others. Joy would be sure to get nervous and Kit might get into an argument with Kie or Maude and Enid Breckenridge would certainly tell her father and he would insist on them having an escort, or not allowing them to go into the canyon again.

So Bet kept her secret, and the girls did not suspect that Kie was actively unfriendly, they thought him a brusque, ignorant desert dweller whose friendship they could depend on, if needed.

They had not yet learned that Kie Wicks could not be depended on for friendship or loyalty to anyone. He was a suspicious man, always believing the worst of people, and when The Merriweather Girls showed an interest in Lost Canyon, old Indian relics, and even the pleasure of finding arrowheads, Kie Wicks was certain that they had heard of the treasure of Lost Canyon and were going to hunt for it.

And Kie Wicks considered that to be his own special mission in life. He believed implicitly in the old legend that there was a treasure buried in the canyon, and all of his spare time was used up in a search that had continued for ten years. Twice he had formed a company to locate the treasure, he had spent all the money subscribed and had failed. Still his faith held that he would eventually find it.

Maude usually tended the store and Kie spent days at a time drifting around the canyons and hoping that he would stumble upon a clue that would reveal the hidden gold.

He watched the girls ascend the steep hill, gazed after them until they disappeared over the summit, then shook his fist toward the place where they had been.

"Let them take care not to cross me. I can only stand just so much," he muttered.

Kie turned slowly away, mounted his horse and rode down the canyon toward Cayuga.

Ahead of him was a great hole in the rock, an undertaking of his dated some years before and financed by his friends. He frowned at the tunnel dug into the bank, then his frown became a scowl and a ferocious one, for a man was standing there studying the workings, so intent on it that he did not hear the approach of the rider.

"What you doing there?" roared Kie Wicks. And as the man turned he recognized the little professor whom he had met at Judge Breckenridge's ranch the previous day. Kie laughed to himself. Here was one man he need never fear. Inefficiency and irresponsibility were stamped upon ever line of the little man's figure.

"He's childish and perhaps a bit off," thought the mountaineer. He turned to the professor. "That's a mining claim belonging to me. It has promise of wealth in it. You're not by any chance looking for some likely claims, are you?"

"No," replied the professor truthfully. "I've come out here to hunt for Indian relics."

Kie eyed the professor distrustfully. To himself he said: "That's a likely story! Indian relics! What would a grown man want with them?" Then he turned to the old man. "You are in the wrong district," he asserted. "Who ever told you there were Indian relics in this section? Why, we don't even find arrowheads in this part of the country. Now over on the San Pedro there's lots of mounds and things. There's where you ought to go."

"That's a great disappointment. I've come a long way to unearth an old village or something of the sort."

"You're barking up the wrong tree, mister! There ain't nothing around here."

As the professor took leave and rode up the trail, his face was a puzzle. "That's queer," he sighed. "Judge Breckenridge certainly told me that he had made some very important discoveries himself. But this man who belongs here should know more about it. I can't make it all out."

Even Ma Patten's good cooking and her cheerful chatter could not restore the old man's optimism.

"He's tired himself out the first morning," whispered Kit to her mother, after the professor had left the table and seated himself on a large rock overlooking the canyon.

Then, as they watched, they saw him slap his knee vehemently as he arose with a smile.

"That fellow is a fraud! He's trying to mislead me! I know his type now. He wants to keep everything for himself."

He would have been certain of this if he had seen Kie Wicks emerging from the canyon. Kie shook his head decidedly. "There, I put a spike in the professor's gun. He simply wilted. I'm rid of him all right."

But, as the horse followed the well worn trail, he mused. "There's treasure there, I know it! It's my treasure! Mine!"



CHAPTER X

THE PROFESSOR'S JOB

Within a few days the professor's tent and cot arrived, and after that Ma Patten pleaded in vain for him to stay with them. The old man was independent and insisted on getting established in his own quarters. He had already chosen a spot in Lost Canyon with the aid of Indian Joe, who knew the best springs and the best place to pitch a tent.

And Professor Gillette could not have had a better helper. Under a huge cottonwood tree, there was a bubbling spring, cool and clear, and down the creek a short distance was a small pool.

"Why, there's my bath room!" laughed the old man. "Talk about modern conveniences, I have them all."

The Merriweather Girls were eager to help the old man get settled. And when the five of them with Tommy Sharpe got to work they soon had everything in order. Tommy levelled a space and beat it down until it was smooth. Judge Breckenridge had suggested that boards be laid for a floor but at this the professor protested vehemently.

"I've come out here to live the simple life, the life of an explorer. I want to rough it, even endure hardships. It will do me good," he asserted, objecting to anything that might seem like luxury.

But after a day or two of trying to cook his meals over a small outdoor fire, he accepted a tiny stove from Mrs. Patten. Primitive living was all right, but it was a waste of time to cook over an open fire.

And one day he returned from a long hike over the hills and settled into a rocking chair that the good neighbor had placed before his door, in his absence, and did not protest but took it gratefully. After a strenuous day, it would be good to drop into the restful depths of an easy chair and enjoy the glories of the canyon.

But he refused her help very decidedly when she dropped in one morning and found him at his weekly wash. His shirts and overalls were spread out on a large flat stone in the creek and he was beating them incessantly with a small paddle.

"I'm enjoying the washing," he declared with a laugh. "I don't mind it at all."

"But your work, your discoveries?" inquired Ma Patten.

"They can wait while I get clean! Anyway I haven't had much luck. The Indians will give me no help at all."

"Why are you so keen about these Indian relics? We can give you any number of arrowheads and baskets and stuff. You're welcome to them if it will help you any," offered Mrs. Patten sympathetically.

"That's not exactly what I want," the professor said. "I'm interested in American Indians, and have always been considered an authority on the subject. But I'm getting old and younger men are stepping into the field. They think I'm just a musty old professor with nothing but a book knowledge of Indian ruins. So I have to show them."

"What's the use?" answered Ma Patten contemptuously. "These young fellows always can beat us in the end and we might as well give up gracefully."

"But that isn't all. My job's at stake. If I don't do something to get up-to-date I'll be shoved out. They want men who go out and do spectacular things that get them into the newspapers. I was told that my department would have to be snapped up a bit! Isn't that terrible language for educators to use? And if my job goes, I don't know what I'll do. I've got responsibilities, heavy ones."

"Have you a large family, Professor Gillette?" asked the woman.

"No, I have only one daughter but she is an invalid. She was studying to be a dancer and one slippery day in winter she fell and broke her hip. And she has never been able to dance since."

"Oh, that's terrible! The poor child!"

"She's as happy as a lark. She has never given up faith that as soon as she is taken to see a specialist in the city, she will be cured. It is for that operation that I must earn more money. And with the fear of losing my position in the college you can see why I must make good this summer."

"Well, you'll find plenty of Indian signs around these mountains," Mrs. Patten informed him.

"That's strange!" The professor exclaimed, "That man, Kie Wicks, claims that there never were Indians in these hills. None to speak of, he said. Told me I was barking up the wrong tree. Oh yes, he was quite certain I was going to fail. But I mustn't fail! I can't fail!"

"Of course you won't fail! And you needn't believe a word that Kie Wicks says. He doesn't want people to come into this canyon. He believes in the myth about the treasure and he makes it hard for anyone who comes in. One old prospector had to leave because Kie had it in for him. He just couldn't stay."

"What did Kie Wicks do?" asked the old man.

"Well, for one thing he would sell the prospector meat and at night steal it all back. And the old chap was shot at in the dark and threatened until he gave up after putting in several months working on the claims. So you needn't expect any help from that ruffian," stormed Ma Patten.

"I don't know what to do. I must find that Indian village." Professor Gillette had no notion of giving up, not for all the western bad men he had ever heard about. He had come to Arizona to find an Indian village and that he must do.

"Why don't you go over the hill there? We used to find bits of pottery and arrowheads and even some Indian ornaments made of silver. I have a few of them at home. Be sure to remind me to show them to you. You'll be interested."

The professor's face glowed with excitement. "I'd like to ask you for more particulars as to the exact place," he exclaimed.

"I'll do better than that. Kit will take you over there some day and like as not you'll find just what you are after," Mrs. Patten assured him.

While they were still talking Tommy Sharpe arrived with a note from Mrs. Breckenridge. It was an invitation to supper that evening.

"Isn't that kind! I'll be so glad to go. She's a beautiful and gracious woman."

"It's a sort of party, I judge," said Mrs. Patten, beaming with pleasure and opening a note that Tommy had passed her. "We're all invited to dinner."

That was Virginia Breckenridge's way of keeping in touch with her neighbors. On learning of Professor Gillette's business in the mountains, she had sent to New York for books on Indian legends, Indian ruins and anything that might give the professor a clue to what he wanted to find. And much to her surprise, a book on Indian legends was written by Anton Gillette.

"Our professor is a modest man," laughed Enid. "Imagine him not telling us that he had written a book. He's got his typewriter with him, I wonder if he is planning another book."

"Let's go and ask him," announced Bet, jumping up and starting toward the door.

"It's ten o'clock! He'll be sound asleep," said Shirley. "Don't you think you can wait until morning?"

Bet had waited and then asked the old man, but she got little satisfaction. The professor was shy about his work.

But that was exactly what he was planning to do. If he could make some discoveries, get some practical knowledge and then write about it, he would save his job and increase his income so that his daughter might get the treatment to restore her health.

A sum of money had been offered to the old man for research work, and he had accepted it gladly. He knew from the history of Arizona that a large Indian village must have been situated in the region of Lost Canyon, and it was here that he hoped to find the burial place of the wealthy chief.

The younger teachers heard of his plan and smiled with condescension. They did not imagine for a minute that the old man could stand the strenuous trip to the southwest and find the Indian village. It was a stunt that they would have hesitated to undertake.

But Anton Gillette was made of different stuff. Here was his chance, he must win out. As he looked into the pale face of his daughter, Alicia, her eyes glowing with hope both for her father and her own future, he had vowed that no hardships would be too great for him to overcome.

And here he was in the mountains, camping in Lost Canyon within, he believed, arm's length of the ruins. But so far he had not found them.

Luck was with him, that he knew. Everywhere from the time he had left home, he had found friends to help him. They gladly gave him advice, and in the case of The Merriweather Girls, they would have been happy to serve him in every way. They were quite indignant when the old man pitched his tent far from the ranch where they could not see him so often.

"It will never do," thought the professor. "I'll get soft if they wait on me and give me the idea that I can't do things for myself."

But the invitation from Virginia Breckenridge was another thing. These visits he loved. They were always helpful. The Judge was as interested in the finding of the ruins now as the old man himself. It was his only way to help the independent professor, who refused all financial aid, and the two men were often seen riding the hills together, speculating on the prospect of an ancient village there.

But still they had not found it, after a week of search.

Someone else was anxious to accompany the old man on his trips. It was Kie Wicks.

And while Professor Gillette enjoyed the daily visits of the girls and the occasional calls from Judge Breckenridge or Dad Patten, he found the storekeeper very trying. Kie arrived at the tent early and stayed late.

"That man acts as if he were spying on me. I wonder what he's afraid of. There is nothing here to steal that I can see."

This continued for a week and then ended abruptly. After that Kie Wicks came only once in a long time. This had been Maude's doing.

"You ain't getting no where at all, Kie. You keep that old book-worm from hunting or doing whatever he wants to do. Now if I were you, I'd let old Booky do his searching, then cook up a plan to do him out of whatever he finds."

"Maude, you're a wonder! Why didn't I think of that myself? I couldn't have found a better wife anywhere than you."

So Kie did not appear the next morning.

But it was not until noon that the professor knew that he had been deserted. His patience was at an end so he had risen before dawn and left the tent, striking off over the hills where Mrs. Patten had indicated. He returned at noon with arrowheads and a stone axe but there was no sign of ruins.

But the old man was not discouraged. These signs of Indians merely gave him the necessary urge to investigate.

Before he had finished lunch the girls arrived.

"Where's your bosom friend today?" they asked mockingly. "You and Kie Wicks are almost inseparable. It's quite touching to see such devotion," laughed Bet, who knew of the old man's impatience.

Bet laughed and the contagion of her merriment started the other girls and their voices echoed back to them from the canyon wall opposite.

While they stood there, a strange procession appeared around the bend in the trail. A band of horses one after the other, filed by.

"Poor horses!" exclaimed Bet in sympathy.

"Horses!" sneered Kit. "Those are not horses, they are just racks of bones, that's all. And that's the way most of the Indian ponies look."

The professor was speechless. He watched the procession with interest. Fat squaws rode huddled over their nags, each carrying a baby strapped to her back. Small boys ran beside the horses or clung on behind the mother. The men usually rode free and on one of the animals, the professor saw an old Indian.

"I wish I could talk to him," he whispered to Kit, who was standing near him.

"You'll have your chance before the day is over. They usually camp right here where you are. I'm surprised that Indian Joe suggested this spot. They are not apt to go far away from here."

As Kit spoke the squaw heading the procession stopped, and it looked as if she rolled off her horse as she dismounted. She had evidently found a suitable place to camp. The professor was delighted that it was on the opposite side of the stream where he could watch them. A tepee was made almost before the squaws were all out of their saddles. A large piece of sacking was thrown over small bushes which were tied together at the top to form an arch. This was the only shelter put up by the Indians when on the march.

The men dismounted, sat down by the stream and smoked their pipes, while the women and children scurried about, gathering fire wood and starting a blaze.

In a few minutes they had settled down to life for a few days, the life that the Indians loved, carefree, indolent and happy.

The professor was greatly elated. Here was a chance to watch the modern Indian at least and see how he lived. He would have something to tell his class.

"That's Old Mapia," confided Kit. "He's supposed to be about a hundred years old. You're in luck if you can get him to talk. Some of the young ones will translate for him if he gets stuck. I'll send Old Mary over, if he won't talk to you. She can make him tell stories."

Before the afternoon was over, the professor had invited the old Indian to have a smoke with him, then offered him cookies and other delicacies, and while he accepted without a sign of appreciation, the ice was broken and when the professor began to ask questions the old Indian answered as well as he could, and Young Wolf supplied the missing words that his grandfather had forgotten.

"Yes, once a very long time ago there were many Indians here, a city!" droned the old fellow and the professor edged closer to hear him, fascinated by the wrinkled face.

"My father—my grandfather, yes, he know. Up yonder somewhere a large village, where the Indians make baskets and rugs and silver and pottery, long ago. There were good times then. Indians plenty rich. No white men. My grandfather tell me heaps."

"Where was the village?" asked Professor Gillette.

"No find any more,—gone!" The Indian shook his head and with a wave of his hand indicated every hill surrounding the canyon.

"I think he knows," the professor confided to the girls that afternoon when he went up to see Dad Patten. "But it's probably a secret."

"No, it's on account of the curse," said Kit.

"But what has the curse to do with it?" the professor asked.

"Plenty. The daughter of the old chief still walks at times, and she cursed that village, and the Indians try to forget that there ever was such a place. None of them will go near it."

"What does the ghost look like, Kit?" asked Bet.

"She always wears a costume of deerskin and feathers. And at night she just appears out of nothing in Lost Canyon. One minute she isn't there and the next she is. And when she appears she is supposed to curse those who see her. They run for their lives."

"Is that true?" Joy's voice was trembling. "If it is, I won't ever go into this canyon again."

"Don't worry, Joy. If you are good you'll never see the ghost. Only those who are planning to do wrong see her."

The girls laughed at the timid Joy. "Don't worry, dear," Bet patted her hand lovingly. "I'll take care of you."

"Some say," went on Kit, "that the ruin of the village must be left untouched, and that any one disturbing it will see the ghost."

"And that's why Old Mapia won't talk," said the professor. "He's afraid of the curse. It would hasten matters very much if I could get some reliable information as to the location of the village."

"And are you really going to hunt for the village after that?" Bet's eyes were glowing.

"Yes, I'm not afraid of the curse. I'll find that village. Alicia is expecting me to. I must make good."

"That's the way to talk, Professor Gillette! And remember this, The Merriweather Girls will help you in any way we can. We're not afraid of any curse. We're with you, every one of us."

Joy started to speak. She turned pale then suddenly gave up. "All right. If Bet leads, I follow!"

But there was no wild enthusiasm in her promise.



CHAPTER XI

STAKING A CLAIM

But it was rarely ever that the professor wanted company in his search. Bet was inclined to feel offended, for she had hoped that he would accept her offer of help and consider The Merriweather Girls as partners.

"All right, Kit, let's do something by ourselves. What's the use of just looking at the glorious scenery? If an old man like Professor Gillette can go out and hunt for a lost village, we should be able to find some copper claims or other interesting things. Let's do it."

The girls were in the saddle while Bet discussed the possibility of discovering something. It was really adventure that Bet was seeking.

The horses stepped gingerly over the slippery rocks of the creek bed as the girls chatted and laughed on their way to Table Mountain, a great flat-topped summit in the high hills.

Joy Evans suddenly laughed outright. "Bet Baxter, it would take you to think of a thing like this. What under the sun will we do with a copper mine if we do locate one? I'm very sure I have no use for one."

"Don't be a spoil-sport, Joy! Think of the romance and the fun. Why, we'll be mine owners!"

"What I want to know is, who will do the actual work?" It was Shirley Williams, the practical girl of affairs who put the question.

"We'll hire the work done, of course. It would be foolish for us to waste our valuable time digging holes in the ground," returned Bet.

"Certainly," giggled Kit. "We'll do the brain work and let the greasers do the digging."

"Please don't call the Mexicans that horrid word again. It doesn't sound nice. I think the Mexican boys have such wonderful dreamy eyes."

"We've heard that before. Go on, Joy, rave some more!" Bet treated Joy's outbursts of enthusiasm over boys with contempt. "I'm going to do something useful in life."

"Like finding copper mines! Hm! What use are they?" snapped Joy. "I'd rather think about boys any time."

"Of course you would! Go on and dream then!" Bet was angry. She and Joy were often near to a quarrel, but somehow it was always averted.

"Quit your fighting, girls," laughed Enid. "What's to hinder us from finding our mine and letting Joy dream of romantic brown eyes at the same time?"

"I'm for the mine! I've always had a secret passion to locate claims, myself, and see them develop into a big mine." Kit caught some of Bet's enthusiasm and wanted to start out at once. She continued: "It's lots of fun to locate a claim. Once I followed an outcropping of ore up over a high hill, but when I got to the top I found it already located."

"Oh, what a shame!" cried Bet. "And did you give up then?" Bet looked her disappointment at Kit's lack of enthusiasm.

"I did for a while but I've never really given up wanting to and had a feeling that I would sooner or later. Guess I was waiting for you to help me. Say, girls, let's follow this stream."

"What for?" asked Shirley. She was looking about her in a bewildered way, which set Kit into peals of laughter.

"Well, you see the stream carries bits of ore and if we follow it, we may find the place the ore comes from. Watch for copper stain on the rocks."

"But it's such a tiny stream!" protested Joy.

Kit had already guided her horse to the right and led through a narrow passage between the high canyon walls. "This is the Iron Gate, girls. It's a landmark around here."

Bet looked up at the high cliffs. They towered above her.

"The Iron Gate! Doesn't that sound romantic?"

Suddenly Enid called excitedly, "Oh, Kit, is that greenish color on the rock copper stain?"

"That's it," said Kit, "but here there is hardly more than a tint. Let's go on farther," and Kit urged her pony ahead.

After half an hour of slow travel through the creek, the girls were rewarded. The tiny canyon had widened out, the stream was larger and they found sufficient emerald green stain to suggest that there might be a large deposit of copper nearby. They also found more fragments of ore.

Dismounting, the girls left their horses standing with trailing bridles. Bet suggested unfastening the rope she had brought for practising, to tie her pony to a tree. Kit laughed.

"The very idea! Don't insult a mountain horse in that way. He'd never forgive you. Never! Look, here's a small outcrop!"

Kit led the way up over the hill, following an exposed vein of copper ore that appeared at intervals. Bet squealed with delight.

"Just look at it! Isn't that lovely? Kit, do you think it's rich ore?"

"I can't tell you that, Bet, but Dad said there were a lot of fine claims up this way."

"Oh, isn't it glorious?" enthused Bet. "We'll stake them out and own a mine!"

"And if we find any good claims, we'll locate them today, for Dad gave me some location blanks to give to the professor. Dad thinks that it is all foolishness to hunt for a lost Indian village, so he was trying to persuade the old man to go in for mining. And I have those blanks in my saddle bag right here." And Kit waved her hand back toward the canyon where Powder was standing patiently waiting his mistress's return.

The girls had reached the flat and here they found a large outcropping of greenish ore. Delightedly they set to work. On the legal forms that they had brought with them, they filled in a description of the claim. They erected a monument built of stones in the center and then paced off the required number of feet and placed a small pile of stones at four corners.

"It's a good thing I've watched Dad and other folks build their monuments. Now I know just how to do it." Kit was jubilant. It was thrilling to be able to show the girls the way to locate claims.

Kit took the blank that had been filled in and placed it in the center of the monument. "There!" she exclaimed. "The first time we come back here we'll bring a tin can and put that paper in it and bury it in the rocks again. That will keep it dry."

"What a funny thing to do," laughed Bet.

"It's the rule up here. We're doing it the same as all the prospectors did. Every claim was located that way!" Kit carefully covered the blank, then folded up another, a duplicate and handed it to Bet. "Keep this one."

"What for?" asked Shirley.

"That is the one we send in to be recorded at the County Office."

"I'm excited!" cried Bet as she dropped beside the pillar of rock in the center of the claim. "Isn't it just too wonderful for anything to own a mine like this? I feel rich already. And just think there may be a big mine on this very spot some day!"

"Bet, you should have been a prospector. Every old miner in the hills thinks that his own particular claims are going to be the biggest mine in sight," laughed the Arizona girl. "As soon as he builds a monument he begins to talk of private cars and mansions."

"I almost wish I were a prospector. It must be lots of fun to have marvelous hopes of success. If I hadn't come a girl, I'd be a prospector. Just think of it, not having anything to do in life but roam around the hills and look at the rocks!" Bet lost herself in her dreams.

"And build funny little play monuments!" added Enid.

"Yes, and half starve to death before you get ore enough mined to sell," Kit reminded her.

"Oh, Kit, that isn't fair to wake me up so rudely. Why not dream pleasant things while you're about it?" Bet laughed. "Where do we locate the next claim?" They followed Kit to some distance from the monument and when they had found sufficient outcropping they repeated the same process.

There was a hot breeze that seemed to intensify the heat of the sun and brought the aromatic scent of the greasewood. The wild beauty of the canyon was not lost on the girls. From the cliff they could see down into the depths, they could hear the rippling of water over the rocky bed of the creek, the flash of a bright bird in the trees would bring them out of their day dreams. It was good to be alive, good to be roaming through the hills looking for romance and adventure.

"I'm glad we gave up the idea of hunting for treasure," declared Bet with a shade of contempt in her voice as she paced off the required number of feet for marking the fourth and last claim. "Somehow or other that seems silly now. This is far more important and worth while."

"After seeing those excavations that were made, I could never think of it seriously," Enid said quietly. "Kie Wicks must have spent a fortune trying to find treasure in that spot."

"Yes, but not his fortune! He formed a company and sold stock, so it wasn't his own money he spent," Kit reminded them.

The girls stood looking over their claims with affectionate glances. "I love them, Bet, and I'd just hate to have anyone else do the digging. Why can't we do it?" asked Kit.

Enid spoke up. "Don't do it, girls. Take my advice and hire it done, it will be cheaper in the end."

"Maybe Enid's right," agreed Bet. "We mustn't get too ambitious or we'll miss half the fun."

"Say, when do we eat?" demanded Joy suddenly. "I'm famished! I can't do another thing until I get my lunch."

"Poor starved child!" laughed Enid. "Do you suppose you could roll down the hill so we can build a camp fire by the stream? If you think you can't, we might fix up a stretcher and carry you."

Joy answered with a toss of her head and a puckered-up grin. "I think I can manage to crawl there, if I am sure of a feed immediately."

The girls scrambled down the steep cliff side and began to unpack the lunch. Joy chose a large granite rock in the middle of the stream and perched thereon, she surveyed her surroundings.

"Isn't that a lovely copper stain? And to think it's coming from our mine!" she enthused in a mocking tone, while the other girls unpacked the lunch or hustled around to find sticks for a fire.

Their lunch preparations were to be quite elaborate, roast potatoes and corn on the cob and steak. Enid and Kit built the fire with care and soon a bed of coals was ready. While the two girls worked over the fire and Shirley gave attention to spreading the feast, Bet sat on the cliff, dreaming of the mine to be.

"This is adventure! This is romance!" she cried to her friends.

"Romance!" chuckled Joy. "It's not what I call romance."

"Dark brown eyes and a heavenly smile on the face of a boy, is your only idea of romance. You are a silly girl!" Bet shrugged her boyish shoulders and laughed at Joy as she undid her long rope, and standing up straight, tried to send the loop over a stump in the manner approved by Tommy Sharpe, her teacher. Her efforts were not very successful. Out of twenty attempts she managed one that coiled over the spot that she was aiming at. Bet decided then and there that she would not make a good cowboy. While she practised the throw again and again, she continued to talk to Joy who seemed half vexed as she snapped:

"You needn't talk about liking boys, Bet Baxter. I don't blush every time the mail arrives and a letter is handed me. And you seem to have no objection to dreamy brown eyes yourself. I've seen the way you looked at Phil Gordon. Now Phil's eyes haven't got enough snap in them for me—they're altogether too brooding to suit me. I think that young Mexican's eyes are much more exciting."

"Why, Joy Evans, how dare you say that I like to look at Phil's eyes? He's a dear boy, one of our best chums, but I don't think at all about his eyes," retorted Bet.

"You don't think his eyes are nice? Answer me, Bet?" teased Shirley.

"They're all right I tell you, but I think you girls are just too horrid trying to insinuate that I'm in love with Phil," protested Bet, her face flushing, her blue eyes snapping with anger.

"We don't have to insinuate anything, Bet. You give yourself away every time his name is mentioned," was Joy's emphatic reply.

"I move we change the subject. It's a sore point with me for I'm half in love with Phil myself," laughed Kit. "He's one of the nicest boys I've ever seen. But when Bet's around he won't even notice me."

"What will Bob say to that?" laughed the impish Joy for it was no secret that Bob Evans had lost his heart to the Arizona girl from the first time he met her. His heart was hers to crush or treasure as she saw fit. But at present Kit preferred to hold on to her girlhood and not allow the thought of love and grown-up responsibilities to enter her head.

That was one nice thing about the relationship of the girls and their boy friends. There was comradeship and loyal friendship.

Bet suddenly jumped down from her perch on the cliff and said disgustedly: "Joy Evans, I think you are corrupting all of us with your silly ideas regarding boys. I love Bob and Phil and Paul Breckenridge and Tommy Sharpe just exactly the same, and I won't be teased about any one in particular."

"Methinks thou dost protest too much, my dear!" exclaimed Joy tantalizingly. "We'll change the subject for the time, but when I get you alone, Bet Baxter, I'll make you own up that Phil Gordon is a little dearer to you than any of them." Joy dodged and slid from the granite rock just in time to miss the loop of rope that Bet had aimed at her with no gentle hand.

"Come on girls, you selfish things, give your horses a chance," and Kit stroked Powder's muzzle and gave him a nosebag of oats. All the girls followed her example, then while the potatoes were getting ready, Bet took a book from her pack behind the saddle and lost herself in a story.

"Do read aloud, Bet," begged Enid, dropping down beside her friend. "I will always remember how you read to me on Campers' Trail when I was hurt."

So while Kit tended the fire, keeping a bed of hot coals just right for the baking, and Shirley fried steak and cooked the corn, Enid stretched out on a flat rock and listened to Bet. She had chosen "The Wonderful Window" by Dunsany, and when she finished Enid sighed softly.

"I like a story that gives you something to think about," said Bet, moved by the loveliness of the tale.

"I don't see anything particularly nice to think about in that story, Bet," objected Joy with a shrug. "It isn't lively enough to suit me."

"Of course you wouldn't!" laughed Enid. "Your idea of a story is Cinderella. There has to be a girl, a prince and a wedding. Isn't that right?"

"Of course," answered the butterfly girl, twirling about on her toes as usual. "It's the only kind that counts. I wouldn't give a snap of my finger for any other kind."

With a bound, Bet jumped to her feet, caught the slight form of Joy, lifted her clear off the ground, then ran with her down to the creek.

"Come on, Enid, this girl needs to have her head soaked in cold water. Let's do it." And in spite of the protests of the kicking, shrieking Joy, the girls managed to get her to a pool of water in the creek bed.

"Now, Joy Evans, will you behave yourself?"

Bet held Joy's head under her arm, and using her arm as a dipper she poured water freely over the girl's head.

Kit and Shirley came to the rescue at Joy's screams, but Shirley held them off.

"She had it coming to her, girls. It will do her good."

Between Bet's bursts of laughter she managed to say, "Promise you won't talk about boys and love for a week at least, then I'll let you go."

"Don't be as unreasonable as all that," protested Shirley. "She might live through twenty-four hours of it, but not much longer."

"Then promise that you won't mention a boy's name for two days!" and for good measure another handful of water splashed into Joy's laughing face.

"I promise! I promise! Please let me go!" choked Joy who had opened her mouth just in time to get it full of water.

"All right! Here you go!" And Bet gave a quick shove, landing the dripping girl on her feet, then she stood back admiringly. "There is one fine thing about you, Joy Evans. You're a good sport. I couldn't be as good natured as that." Bet threw an arm about the smaller girl affectionately.

"Yes, I am good natured. I let you abuse me just turrible! I'm so kind and lovable and......"

"Give her another bath!" cried Kit, making a bound to catch Joy. But quick as a flash the girl had sprung to a rocky ledge and was scrambling up the cliff-side like a mountain goat.

The girls shrieked with laughter and the echoes resounded back and forth across the canyon like the voices of a thousand imps. This set them deliberately to letting their voices out in strange calls and weird whisperings in order to hear the echoes coming back to them.

"Isn't it wonderful!" exclaimed Bet. "There are so many more things to entertain one here than in the cities. And after this, Lynnwood will seem dull."

"I could never call Lynnwood dull," said the sensible Shirley. "We always managed to have plenty of adventure there, thanks to Bet who can find a thrilling mystery anywhere."

"Say, girls, I wish you'd get that silly idea you have of me out of your heads. From now on I'm a business woman, a mine-owner, and all other adventures are out. I'm going to be known as Sensible Bet."

"Listen to her! She thinks it will be an adventure to work a copper claim. My idea of an adventure is altogether different. I can't see any thrill in five girls getting out in the hills, miles away from nowhere, and without the boys......"

Bet made a dash toward Joy, who had just stepped down to the creek from her place of refuge.

"Put her in the creek!" Bet shouted. "This time she goes in all over!"

"Oh please!" begged Joy, taking refuge once more on the steep trail. "Truly I forgot! I won't say it again."

"All right, come on down, and we'll let you off this once, but next time, in you go, head and all!"

Kit had drawn away at some distance from the girls and was looking anxiously at the sky. "Looks to me as if a storm was coming up. We'd better get home at once."

On mountain weather forecasts, Kit was authority so the girls quickly seized their horses' bridles, tightened the cinches as Kit directed, then hastily mounted and started toward home.

"It's beginning to look worse and worse! Don't waste a minute. We must reach the pass down there before it catches us. Otherwise we'll be in a jam."

The horses sensed the excitement and the tenseness that goes before a storm and raced through the creek-bed without any urging. Even the old horse, Dolly, needed neither spur nor whip. Snorting and blowing in good earnest, she held her own with the more spirited animals as they picked their way around boulders and pools of water.

At the first drop of rain, Kit drew in her pony. "We can't make it, girls! We'll never make it in time," she cried in a panic of fear.

"Of course we can make it. There it is right ahead of us," Enid encouraged them. "We can get through the pass."

"No, we can't!" declared Kit anxiously.

"Then we'd better stay right here where it's dry," said Bet.

"We can't do that either," screamed Kit. "In ten minutes this will be a raging torrent instead of a little trickle of water. You don't understand."

It was not often that Kit lost her presence of mind, but the responsibility of looking after the girls quite unnerved her.

"Then what shall we do?" asked Shirley, who never got excited or lost her head.

Kit looked at the canyon walls on both sides. They were steep, they seemed straight up.

"Oh, I shouldn't have started back, I should have waited," in Kit's voice was a sob.

Heavy clouds had shut out all the blue of the sky. Never before had the girls seen such black and menacing clouds. They rolled and seethed like foaming billows. It looked as if the demons of some underworld were engaged in a tremendous battle. Black, castle-like shapes piled up, to be tumbled into the abyss, the next second. It was an inferno through which a flash of lightning darted from time to time, followed by thunderclaps.

The girls were terrified.

Joy was sobbing outright and at every blast of thunder a high-pitched, uncontrollable shriek broke from her lips. The horses stood still, trembling with fright.

"We're in terrible danger here. We must get out!" cried Kit, frantically. "Come on back. Let your horse take you wherever he wants to, and hold on for dear life."

Kit wheeled her horse back the way they had come and the girls followed. And just at that moment the downpour came and looking back toward the pass, the girls saw a strange sight. A body of water came roaring through the narrow opening as if a gigantic fire-hydrant had burst. A cloudburst in the mountain beyond had sent the water roaring and tumbling down the bed of the stream.

Just what happened the girls could hardly tell afterwards. They held on as Kit had directed and the horses raced madly away from the oncoming torrent.

Bet's heart almost stopped beating as her pony took the trail up the wall of the canyon, so steep that she would not have dared to attempt it on foot. Half way up the wall, the horse stopped.

"I've never seen anything braver than that! This is thrilling!" breathed Bet as she held on to the horn of the saddle with a grip that strained her hands. Although she was as frightened as any of the girls, she still had an eye to the adventure.

The stream bed was a river now, swirling, foaming and roaring. It made one dizzy to look down into it.

Bet finally got up the courage to turn her head to see if the other girls were safe, and behind her on the trail, she made out Joy's horse.

The animal had followed Bet's lead and it stood on the trail dejected and drooping, a picture of woe.

And the saddle was empty.

"Joy! Joy!" screamed Bet. "Where are you? Joy!"

No one, even a few feet away, could have heard her call and if there had been any answer, the roar of the storm deadened it.

The rain came down in a heavy sheet, soaking her to the skin and shutting out the hills across the canyon. She was alone in this blinding downpour. It seemed as if the inferno she had witnessed in the sky had fallen upon her and was eager to swallow her up. And yet Bet was thrilled.

She wanted to huddle over her pony, hold on to the saddle horn, but she dared not do it. She must find Joy.

What had happened to the other girls? Kit was probably with them, and leading them to safety. Joy was near and in need of help.

Bet carefully took her feet from the stirrups and slid to the ground with a death-grip on the saddle. There was only room for one foot on the tiny shelf of rock, and that slight space was slippery with the rain. Slowly Bet lowered herself, with the aid of the stirrup, and clutching at the tough-fibred plants, she lay down flat on her stomach. Sliding and wriggling, an inch at a time, down that slippery incline, she managed to hold on to the narrow shelf.

"Joy! Joy! Where are you?" she cried.

At last Bet could hear the heavy breathing of Joy's horse, got hold of a stirrup and clung there trembling.

Again and again she called, then listened.

Finally above the roar of the storm she thought she heard a faint cry from the trail below. Bet crept along the trail, this time under Dolly's feet. She had to take a chance even though one move on the part of the horse might send her over the side of the cliff.

Then Bet saw Joy. She was clinging to a mass of bear grass, her face white and her eyes wild with fear. It was impossible to reach her. She seemed to be clinging there only with her hands, her feet swinging without any support. But of that Bet could not be certain.

It would be sure destruction to attempt to climb down that wall.

Then quick as a flash Bet thought of the reata on Joy's saddle. Bet had insisted that the girl carry the rope with her, and Joy had protested as usual.

That rope was her only chance.

Bet slowly crept up the incline to Joy's horse and managed to get to her feet and undo the long coil of rope. Then crouching to her knees once more she made a loop, thankful that she had learned to do that stunt as a child. The other end she tied to the saddle.

Bet heard a groan from the cliff and hastened toward it.

But haste was one thing that could not be attempted with safety. Bet regretted that effort. Her body slipped, a plant gave way and her feet slid over the wall.

Bet's mind was clear. She heard once more Joy's faint cry in the distance and knew that it depended on her to rescue her friend. The empty hand clutched and found another tough root, and slowly, now, she brought first one foot then the other to the ledge. She was saved! But would she reach Joy in time?

With greater caution she crept the few feet along that treacherous path until she came close above Joy's head.

"Hold on, Joy, don't give up! I'll help you in a minute." Bet encouraged her.

Working desperately, Bet got to her feet and clung there. It was the only hope for Joy. The rain had ceased to pour down in such a torrent, and Bet could now see her friend clinging to that slender plant. Leaning over as far as she dared, she dropped the loop over Joy's head and shoulders.

"Joy dear," she called. "Put one arm inside the loop, quick!"

Joy heard and understood. She let go with one hand. There was a shriek, a groan, a shower of rocks descended as Joy slipped down that steep wall.

For Bet, everything went black. She grew faint and closed her eyes, then suddenly pulled herself together, and looked over.

The rope was taut. It had held.

A second shower of rocks came from the trail, started by the sudden jerk on the saddle. The horse pawed the ground in an effort to keep its footing.

It held. And Bet gripped the stirrup with her foot and drew on the rope.

It was well that Joy was tiny. Even then, Bet had difficulty in bringing her up. She tugged, she pulled, trying to ease the girl's body over the sharp projecting rocks.

Bet was weak and trembling when she clasped Joy in her arms, perched on that narrow shelf of rock.

And that was the way Kit found them ten minutes later, when the storm had passed and the sun shone fiercely down once more.

Joy was sobbing as if her heart would break and Bet was saying in a crooning voice: "Joy dear, you can talk about the boys as much as you want to from now on. I'll never again object to anything you do."



CHAPTER XII

DOUBLE DEALING

An anxious group was waiting for the girls to arrive in camp. Ma Patten had run over to make her daily call on Mrs. Breckenridge. Even Tang and the two Chinese hoys were watching eagerly and scowling toward the tempestuous sky. A thunder and lightning storm in the hills was not a thing to laugh at. A flash! A roar! And a large mass of rock was cleft apart as if a mighty hammer had struck it.

Tommy Sharpe and Seedy Saunders had saddled their horses and gone in search of the girls as soon as the storm threatened, but not knowing in which direction they had headed, it was like hunting for a needle in a hay stack.

They did find Professor Gillette, however, soaked to the skin, a bedraggled, shivering figure that set the boys laughing in spite of the pathetic look of the old man. They helped him up the hill to the Patten household where he could be taken care of, and once more went in search of the girls.

But it was not until the storm was over and the girls were climbing up the last trail to the ranch that Tommy spied them.

"There they are, Seedy! They're safe!" Tommy's voice trembled with emotion. The mountain storms still terrified the boy, although he had experienced so many of them.

By the time the girls reached the house, the strain they had undergone was beginning to wear off and they were able to laugh at their adventure. That all except Joy, who shuddered whenever she thought of it and turned pale when the women asked excited questions.

"I hate these mountains," whispered Joy to Shirley. "I wish I were going home tomorrow!"

"Why, Joy Evans, you know you don't." Shirley put her arm around the frightened girl. "You're having a grand time here, and the fun is just beginning. You're not going to quit over the first unpleasant thing that happens to you. That's not playing the game. What would Lady Betty Merriweather do?"

Joy laughed in spite of herself. "We always used to ask that question when we were in Lynnwood. Lady Betty meant a lot to us, didn't she? I guess she wouldn't have cried and taken on the way I did down there on the cliff."

"Do you remember," said Shirley softly, "how Lady Betty rode through the night to help her wounded husband? That was bravery!"

"But that was so long ago. The Revolutionary War seems like a story and not real life," Joy said with a toss of her head. "Maybe it didn't happen at all."

Lady Betty Merriweather had been the first owner of the Merriweather Estate, Bet's home on the Hudson, and from an old picture of her that adorned the great entrance hall of the Manor, the girls had come to feel that she was their friend and companion, an ideal for them to live up to.

"Anyway," continued Joy, "she liked horses. And I don't. And I don't like their old cactus plants with their sharp needles that seem to jump at you. And the sun is cruel. It bites. And even the mountains look hard and angry as if they wanted to do you a mean turn.—And that storm! Did you ever see anything more terrifying? I thought the day of judgment had come. I don't believe Lady Betty would have been any braver than I was. Well, not much braver!"

Shirley laughed softly. "Joy dear, how you exaggerate things! Arizona is wonderful. Did you ever see such glorious sunsets? I'm crazy about them."

"The sunrises are just as wonderful!" interrupted Bet. "And I'm wondering who is going to be game enough to start to Saugus before daylight some morning. Kit says we will have to take an early start if we are to make the trip in one day."

"Why are we going there?" asked Joy.

"To record our claims. We could mail the filled-in blanks but it's lots more exciting to take them. And it's good experience for us. Besides the County Recorder should get acquainted with us, for someday we'll own a great big mine and be people of importance."

The girls laughed at Bet's seriousness.

"Are you going to say you don't want to go?" Bet asked in a vexed tone.

"Of course we'll go!" assented Enid. "We're The Merriweather Girls; one for all and all for one! What day do we start?"

"Why not go tomorrow, if our folks agree? I'm anxious to see those claims put on record," said Shirley, "and the sooner business matters are attended to, the better for everyone. And just think, girls, it's our second business venture. Shirley's Shop was a success and still is, for mother is keeping it going, and she said in her last letter that she was not doing badly at all."

"Shirley's Shop was a success and the Merriweather Mining Company will be, too," Bet declared. "It must be a success."

"It will be!" determined Enid.

Only Joy did not share their optimism. "I think the storm was a bad omen, don't you, Kit? It's hoodooed!"

"Joy Evans!" cried Bet her eyes flashing. "Half an hour ago I would have let you say that, but now if the creek were near, in you'd go!"

Joy laughed and got beyond the reach of Bet's hand, then said impishly: "As for boys, I think they are simply wonderful! Mexican boys have beautiful eyes and Phil Gordon always smiles at you, Bet."

For answer Bet ran into the house and slammed the door to her own room. Joy had wept after the storm, and thus relaxed her nerve tension but Bet had not had any such relief. As a result of the strain she found herself irritated by Joy's nonsense and got out of the way to avoid a quarrel.

It was two days later when the girls started on their trip to Saugus. The first faint flush of dawn was in the sky as they set out, the exhilarating air acting as a stimulant. Even the horses seemed to feel it as they tossed their heads and pawed the ground when the girls were getting ready to start. The restless animals were as eager to be off as their riders, and at the first touch of the reins they sprang forward as if for a race.

"Take it easy, Powder," laughed Kit as she tightened the rein and drew up the horse's head. "You have a full day to show how clever you are." Kit talked to the pony as if it were a human being and the horse seemed to respond to whatever mood she was in. He slowed to a prancing trot, high-stepping along the level like a spirited race horse.

Kit leaned over and patted his neck with pride as she called: "Look, Bet, isn't he a beauty?"

"He is!—That is in looks. But I don't like his disposition. You are welcome to ride him." Bet laughed aloud in her joy as she made her pony dance along the trail.

"But if Powder didn't act up like a perfect fiend at times, I'd be bored to death with him. I like them naughty. I hate a horse without any spirit. Powder keeps me on my toes all the time." Kit ran her finger along the horse's mane and with a spring Powder reared and bucked, and did all the things that an untamed bronco would do when he was first introduced to the saddle.

"You can have it all to yourself," said Bet, as Kit finally brought her quieted horse to a standstill. "I like riding, but I don't want to be a bronco buster."

Although they planned on being in the town by noon, the girls carried a lunch strapped to their saddles. A rest and a bite to eat along the way was half the fun and they had not gone more than a mile before Joy was digging into the little bag that hung from the horn of her saddle.

By ten o'clock when the other girls were ready for a rest and something to eat, Joy was down to the bottom of the bag.

"Never mind, Joy, you can have half of mine. Mother always puts up enough for an army."

"Aren't we ever going to get there?" complained Joy, as she squatted in the scant shade of a mesquite tree and ate some fudge.

"Five miles more!" Kit announced.

"I'll never be able to do it! If they only had a change of scenery, I wouldn't be so bored. And those tall, smokestack cactus make me sick."

"Smokestack cactus!" snapped Kit with contempt. "If you'd only take enough interest to learn the names of the trees and things you see, you wouldn't be so bored."

"Well, what are they called?"

"Sahuara. And if that word is too big for you to remember, call them Giant Cactus."

Suddenly Bet shook Joy by the arm. "Keep quiet and watch that road runner. Isn't he a beauty?"

The bird had risen and poised above the mesa, then with fluttering wings darted downward. There was a rattling brr, and the girls knew what was happening. The road runner was attacking a rattlesnake.

"That bird isn't much of a sport," declared Bet, watching the little drama with eager eyes. "It doesn't give the snake a fighting chance. I feel sorry for it."

Kit laughed. "Don't waste your sympathy on rattlesnakes. Take something worthy of your respect."

Kit watched the struggle with little emotion but the other girls turned away not wanting to see the end of the uneven fight.

"Let's go," said Enid, jumping to her feet. "I've seen enough."

An hour later when the girls were entering the little desert town of Saugus, and just as they came to the first adobe houses, they saw a horseback rider coming toward them. As he rode nearer the man waved them a greeting.

"It's Kie Wicks! And he's good-natured," grunted Kit suspiciously. "Wonder what he's doing over here today? Up to some meanness, I know, otherwise he wouldn't be so cordial to us."

"Well his meanness doesn't concern us," answered Bet.

"You can't be sure of that. He's probably bought up some second hand food stuff that he plans to work off on the ranchers during the summer."

"And what's your errand over this way?" inquired Kie Wicks bluntly.

"I came to visit an ice cream parlor and go to a movie," chuckled Joy.

But Kit did not deign to answer the man. She dug her spurs into Powder's sides and he leaped past the rider and raced toward the town.

"That fellow looks as if he had been taking advantage of someone. Wasn't he feeling good? On top of the world! The old cheat!" blustered Kit, as she dismounted at the stables where they were to leave their horses for a rest and a good feed.

The girls took their time, went leisurely about the town, ate their lunch at the Grand Palace Hotel and later went to the County Recording Office.

"Why, that's funny!" said the clerk, giving them a searching look. "Those same claims were recorded not more than an hour ago. Man by the name of Ramon Salazar. What are you trying to do, jump his claims?"

"Why, we wouldn't do such a thing," exclaimed Bet indignantly.

"Was Ramon here in person?" asked Kit.

"No, he sent the papers in by a neighbor," returned the young man. "A fellow by the name of Kie Wicks."

"Kie Wicks!" That explained everything.

The girls suddenly wilted. All their sparkle was gone as they watched the clerk checking over the descriptions with the ones already recorded.

"You have one here that has not been recorded," the clerk announced when he had finally finished the checking.

"Wonder how he happened to leave out that one?" snapped Kit.

Bet held out her hand for the blank. "Let's see which one it is. Oh, girls, what a shame! It's the most unpromising claim of all. That's the last one we located, the one we called, 'Little Orphan Annie.' It's too mean for anything." There were tears of disappointment and anger in Bet's eyes.

"Do you want it recorded?" The girls heard the clerk's voice but it seemed to come from far away.

"What's the use of one claim? You can't make a mine out of just one miserable claim!"

"I don't care, I want it anyway!" Bet shrugged her shoulders defiantly.

"I told you there was a hoodoo on those claims," Joy spoke cheerfully, as much as to say, "I told you so."

Joy's pessimism was all that was needed to decide Bet.

"Yes, we'll record it, and we'll be locating some more soon," she announced with determination. "We are not going to let Kie Wicks and Ramon Salazar beat us. We'll get even with them somehow."

"They wouldn't have dared to do this if we were men. Just because we are girls, they think they'll get away with it."

"Oh, by all means!" Joy taunted provokingly, "Be sure to locate some more claims and let that man take them away from us again."

Bet turned her back on Joy and watched the clerk as he put the blank through the usual routine and then turned to leave the office. The Merriweather Girls were the owners of one very unpromising copper claim.

They dragged wearily out into the fierce sunlight. There was a discouraged droop to their shoulders, but Bet suddenly straightened. Her eyes were flashing as she said:

"I have a hunch! Something tells me that we are not down and out on this deal."

Joy squatted on the steps of the General Mining Supply Company's office and laughed. "You ought to win with a disposition like that, Bet Baxter. I don't admire your judgment, but I do like your spunk. I'm with you. I'll never say a discouraging word again."

"I don't know why, but somehow that Little Orphan Annie claim is going to help us win out!"

"But how?" whispered Kit to herself.



CHAPTER XIII

THE "ORPHAN ANNIE" CLAIM

Disappointments could not long dampen the spirits of The Merriweather Girls. Youth soon conquered discouragement and by the time they were awake the next morning, they were happy and ready to take the next step in the adventure.

But Judge Breckenridge, with his strong ideas of justice, was not so easily appeased. And when the girls told him of what had happened he sat for a long time with a worried frown on his brow, then got up and walked in the court. It was plain to be seen that he was agitated about the claim jumpers.

"If you are bothered about us, Judge Breckenridge," said Bet, linking her arm in his and skipping into step beside him, "You might just as well not think about it. We didn't like it at first either, but now we don't care at all—not much, I mean. It will save us lots of work. And probably we couldn't be mine owners very well, anyway."