Dan Carter and the Great Carved Face Part 33

Dan was quite sure he had figured out the real story behind the old Indian. Undoubtedly, Old Miquel had told the truth about placing the turquoise toad in the trader's safe. When the old medicine man was better, he should be able to furnish clues which would result in recovery of the tribal treasure.

"He must have wandered off the reservation, not even knowing who he was,"

Dan reasoned. "The tribe members couldn't understand his strange disappearance. Naturally, they figured he'd made off with the turquoise.

So White Nose and Eagle Feather were sent to trail him."

Dan was meditating upon the old Indian's interesting past, when he heard a slight scuffing noise in the pa.s.sageway.

He listened eagerly. Had help come at last, or might it be White Nose and Eagle Feather returning?

Fearful of the latter, Dan remained silent, the blood coursing fiercely through his arteries.

Distinctly now, he could hear someone at the entranceway of the cave.

Abandoning caution, he called:

"Who's there?"

The answering shout from Mr. Hatfield brought intense relief.

"We're here, Dan! Be with you in a jiffy!"

Powerful flashlights now illuminated the tunnel, dispelling its gloom.

The boy could make out several persons splas.h.i.+ng along the slippery rock floor. Help had come! His long siege was at an end.

After that, Dan had no further worries. Mr. Hatfield and Mr. Holloway efficiently took charge. Aided by several of the Cubs from both Den 1 and 2, they carried Old Miquel out into the warm suns.h.i.+ne.

There, Dr. Evans, who had been summoned from town, examined the Indian.

"He suffers from under-nourishment and exposure," he told the anxious group. "The head wound appears superficial. If you can get him back to the Holloway place, we'll take him from there by ambulance to the hospital."

Mr. Holloway and Mr. Hatfield personally supervised the moving of the old Indian. They would not allow Dan to help bear the stretcher, insisting that because his clothing was damp, he must hasten on ahead.

"You've done more than your share now," the Cub leader warmly a.s.sured him. "You and Brad hike as fast as you can for the house. Put in a call for an ambulance, so it will be waiting when we get there."

"And don't let Red show you the way," Mr. Holloway added with a smile.

"He's not too good at finding the trail."

Brad had no intention of twice losing his way. Taking no chances, he announced his intention of taking the longer but better marked path.

Hastening back to the camp, the two friends brought each other up-to-date on what had occurred.

"Tell me about the pow-wow," Dan urged after he had revealed everything he had learned from Old Miquel in the cave. "Den 1 came out ahead, I reckon?"

"The pow-wow isn't finished yet."

"Then they didn't go ahead when we failed to show up?"

"All the events except one have been run off. They were just starting the last one-the canoe race-when Red and I hit camp. We'd have been there a lot quicker only we got lost in the woods."

"How's the score?"

"Den 1 leads by three points. But that doesn't mean a thing. Whoever wins the canoe race, wins the silver plaque."

"When does the race come off?"

"Don't know," Brad answered. "Finding Old Miquel has thrown everything into a mess. Maybe now, the race will be called off. In that case, Den 1 wins."

For awhile, neither Dan nor Brad gave very much thought to the pow-wow.

Upon reaching the Holloway home, they immediately telephoned the Webster City Hospital, arranging for an ambulance to be sent.

By the time the men came in from the woods bearing the stretcher, it had arrived.

Mr. Hatfield and Mr. Holloway both offered to accompany the old Indian to the hospital. But as Dr. Evans was to ride with the ambulance, they were a.s.sured that it was unnecessary.

Mrs. Holloway provided Dan with a change of clothing. Although the garments were a snug fit, he did not mind.

"Quite a morning," Mr. Hatfield remarked as things quieted down a bit.

"Dan, now that I've had a chance to catch my breath, let me say, we're proud of you."

"I didn't do anything," Dan said, flus.h.i.+ng at the praise. "I just hope Old Miquel gets along all right."

"He will, I think. Dr. Evans says he's not in bad shape and has a good, strong physique."

"Yes, it's practically certain he's the artist," Mr. Hatfield declared.

"The drawings on the cave wall reveal his skill. Poor fellow! He seems to have no memory of what he did after he came to Webster City."

"Wonder what became of White Nose and Eagle Feather?" Dan worried.

"Someone ought to find them and tell them the truth about Miquel."

"We'll attempt to locate them," Mr. Hatfield promised. "Just now, we have a pow-wow on our hands. The Cubs haven't had anything to eat.

Furthermore, there's one more event on the program. Or shall we call it off?"

"No!" yelled all of the Den 2 Cubs. Chips added quickly: "Let's have the race now, and then our lunch!"

Mr. Hatfield gazed thoughtfully at Dan and Brad. Both boys, he knew, were somewhat worn from their harrowing experiences of the morning.

"It might be better to wait a day or so-" he began.

"Not on my account, sir," broke in Dan. "Midge can take my place, if you don't think I should enter the race. I feel fine though! Rarin' to go!"

"Same here," grinned Brad. "We're ready to test our skill against Ross and Donald any old time you say. The quicker the better."

"And if you get beat-as you certainly will-you'll say it was because you were tired," Ross twitted.

"No such thing," Brad retorted.

Mr. Hatfield, Mr. Holloway and the leaders of Den 1 consulted over the advisability of holding the race that day. Feeling was running a bit too high, they knew. But then, there always had been keen rivalry between the two dens.

The race itself was a very short one, not long enough to place any of the contestants under strain.