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they chose to nibble tender twigs off the bushes near them and call that food。
There was； of course； the grain in the packs； but there was neither time nor
opportunity to get it out。 If it came to a siege； luck and his boys were in a
bad way； and they knew it。 They were penned as well as protected there in that
rocky； brushy neck。 The most that they could do was to discourage any rush
from those back in the grove； as to getting through that grove themselves； and
out in the open； there was not one chance in a hundred that they could do it。
From the outside in to where they were entrenched was just a trifle easier。
The Indiana in the grove were all absorbed in watching the edge of the
Frying…pan and had their backs to the open； never thinking that white men
would be coming that way； for had not the other party been decoyed around the
farther end of the big butte； and did not several miles and a barbed…wire
fence lie between？
So when Applehead and his three； coming in from the north； approached the
grove； they did it under cover of a draw that hid them from sight。 From the
shots that were fired； Applehead guessed the truth； that Luck's bunch had
sensed danger before they had actually ridden into the Frying…pan itself； and
that the Navajos were trying to drive them out of the rocks； and were not
making much of a success of it。
〃Now；〃 Applehead instructed the three when they were as close as they could
get to the grove without being seen； 〃I calc'late about the best thing we kin
do； boys； is t' spur up our hosses and ride in amongst 'em shooting and
a…hollerin'。 Mebby we kin jest natcherlay stampede 'embut we've sure got t'
git through In' git under cover mighty dang suddent； er they'll come to
theirselves an' wipe us clean off'n the mapif they's enough of 'em。 These
here that's comin' along after us； they'll help t' swell the party； oncet they
git here。 I calc'late they figger 't we're runnin' head…on into a mess uh
trouble； 'n' they don't want t' colleck any stray bullets'n' that's why
they've dropped back in the last half mile er so。 Haze them pack bosses up
this way； Pink； so'st they won't git caught up 'fore they git t' what the rest
air。 Best use yore six…guns fer this； boysthat'll leave ye one hand t' guide
yore bosses with； and they're handier all around in closework。 Air ye ready？
Then come onfoller me 'n' come a…whoopin'！〃
A…whooping they came； up out of the draw and in among the trees as though they
had a regiment behind them。 Certain crouching figures jumped； sent startled
glances behind them and ran like partridges for cover farther on。 Only one or
two paused to send a shot at these charging fiends who seemed bent on riding
them down and who yelled like devils turned loose from the pit。 And before
they had found safe covert on the farther fringes of the grove and were ready
to meet the onslaught； the clamor had ceased and the white men had joined
those others among the rocks。
So now there were nine men cornered here on the； edge of the Frying…pan； with
no water for their horses and not much hope of getting out of there。
〃Darn you； Applehead； why didn't you keep out of this mess？〃 Luck demanded
with his mouth drawn down viciously at the corners and his eyes warm with
affection and gratitude。 〃What possessed your fool heart to ride into this
trap？〃
〃We…ell； dang it； we had t' ride som'ers； didn't we？〃 Applehead； safe behind a
bowlder； pulled off his greasy； gray Stetson and polished his bald head
disconcertedly。 〃Had a bunch uh Navvies hangin' t' our heels like
tumbleweed'n' we been doin' some RIDIN'； now； I'm a tellin' ye！ 'F Lite；
here； hadn't kep' droppin' one now an' then fur the rest t' devour； I
calc'late we'd bin et up； a mile er two back！〃
Lite looked up from shoving more cartridges into his rifle…magazine。 〃If we
hadn't had a real； simon…pure go…getter to boss the job；〃 he drawled； 〃I
reckon all the shooting I did wouldn't have cut any ice。 Ain't that right；
boys？〃
Pink； resting his rifle in a niche of the boulder and moving it here and there
trying to fix his sights on a certain green sweater back in the woods that he
had glimpsed a minute before； nodded assent。 〃You're durn tootin' it's right！〃
he testified。
Weary looked shining…eyed at Applehead's purple face。 〃Sure； that's right！〃 he
emphasized。 〃And I don't care how much of a trap you call this； it isn't a
patching to the one Applehead busted us out of。 He's what I call a Real One；
boys。〃
〃Aw； shet yore dang head 'n' git yore rifles workin'！〃 Applehead blurted。
〃This yere ain't no time fer kiddin'； 'n' I'm tellin' yuh straight。 What's
them fellers acrost the Fryin'…pan think they're tryin' t' do？ luck le's you'n
me make a few remarks over that way； 'n' leave the boys t' do some gun…talk
with these here babies behind us。 Dang it； if I knowed of a better place 'n'
what this is fer holdin' 'em off； I'd say make a run fer it。 But I don't 'n'
that's fact。 Yuh musta sprung the trap 'fore yuh got inside； 'cause they shore
aimed t' occupy this nest uh rocks theirselves； with you fellers down there in
the Fryin'…pan where they could git at yuh。
〃Thar's one of 'em up on the rim…rocksee 'im？standin' thar； by granny；
like he was darin' somebody t' cut loose！ Here； Lite； you spill some lead up
thar。 We'll learn 'im t' act up smart〃
〃Hey； hold on！〃 Luck grabbed Lite's arm as he was raising his rifle for a
close shot at the fellow。 〃Don't shoot！ Don't you see？ Thaf's the peace…sign
he's making！〃
〃Well； now； dang it； he better be makin' peace…signs！〃 growled Applehead
querulously； and sat down heavily on a shelf of the rock。 〃'Cause Lite； here；
shore woulda tuk an ear off'n him in another minnute； now I'm tellin' ye！〃
CHAPTER XIX。 PEACE TALK
Across the Frying…pan an Indian stood boldly out upon a jutting point of rock
and raised a hand in the sweeping upward motion of the peace…sign。 The
questing bullets that came seeking for bone and flesh among the rocks and
bushes came no more when the signal was passed from those who saw to those
farther back who could not see the figure silhouetted against the brilliant
blue of the sky。 A moment he stood； made the sign again； and waited。
〃That's peace…sign； sure as you're born！〃 Luck cried breathlessly； and went
scrambling through the bushes to where he might stand in the open； on the very
rim of the basin。 Applehead yelled to him to come back and not make a dang
fool of himself； but luck gave no heed to the warning。 He stood out in the
blazing sunshine and gave the peace…sign in reply。
On the…rim rock the Indian stood motionless while he might have taken three or
four breaths。 Then with his hand he gave the sign for 〃pow…wow〃 and waited
again。
Luck； his pulse thrilling at the once familiar gesture which his tribal
〃father；〃 old chief Big Turkey； used to give when he came stalking up for his
daily confab with his adopted son； gave back the sign with a hand tha