"Now look out for treachery," said Ted in an aside to the boys.
"Keep your eyes peeled, fellows," said Ben, passing the word along back.
"Ride up in open order so that we can surround that bunch if they get
gay," said Ted, in a low voice, and the boys rode out and scattered
themselves in a long line.
The Indians were bunched pretty well together.
It was a critical moment.
The slightest suspicious move on the part of the boys might have alarmed
the Indians and started a fight.
While the boys kept their hands on their weapons not one was drawn.
The Indians rode off to a distance of a few hundred feet, then halted.
All had their rifles or guns in their hands, but not in a hostile way.
They were well aware that the white boys were much better armed than
they, and were not in a temper to stand any foolishness.
It seemed as if the Indians had stopped to say good-by before riding
away into the mountains.
But when they stopped, Crazy Cow rode out from them a short distance and
stopped.
"I am Crazy Cow," he said in a boastful way.
This was in the manner of a personal challenge, as if he had said: "Who
the deuce are you? Knock the chip off my shoulder if you dare."
Ted looked at him for a moment, for Crazy Cow was staring at him with an
impertinent look in his face.
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