I'll be along in a minute." Juan, grinning broadly at what he considered a very good joke on the nine white men who had traveled all this way for nothing, went back to explain the mistake to his fellows on the ledge.

The old Indian took it upon himself to disperse the Navajos in the grove, and just as suddenly as the trouble started it was stopped--and the Happy Family, if they had been at all inclined to belittle the danger of their position, were made to realize it when thirty or more Navajos came flocking in from all quarters.

Many of them could--and did--talk English understandably, and most of them seemed inclined to appreciate the joke.

All save those whom Lite had "nipped and nicked" in the course of their flight from the rock ridge to the Frying-Pan.

These were inclined to be peevish over their hurts and to nurse them in sullen silence while Luck, having a rudimentary knowledge of medicine and surgery, gave them what firstaid treatment was possible.
Applehead, having plenty of reasons for avoiding publicity, had gone into retirement in the shade of a clump of brush, with Lite to keep him company while he smoked a meditative pipe or two and studied the puzzle of Ramon's probable whereabouts.
"Can't trust a Navvy," he muttered in a discreet undertone to Lite.
"I've fit 'em b'fore now, 'n' I KNOW.