next. The man looked at the paper a long time. It was not easy for him to decipher the Indian pictographs. Finally he nodded, passed the paper on to the next. The paper made the circuit of the room, returned to Stevens.
"For you fellows who can't read the ancient writing of our fathers—the pictograph come from one John Ahahne. Once he was a high-placed warrior of the tribe in power below. Now he is reduced to bearing burdens on his back for the white interlopers. The Indian has lost another great battle with the white man. These European ray people who have again begun the ancient battle against the red man, have wiped out the friendly white ray of the east—and have now turned their attention to the portions held from ancient times by red men."
Stevens stopped, stared moodily at the long table top. Lane's cultured voice went on where Stevens had stopped.
"To the red men of the surface, who are few enough and poor enough as it is—we who have been taken into the ancient secret only because we are few and because our red skins created a bond of sympathy with the red skins of the underworld—this means that to prosper in the future we must remove ourselves from this area to another where the red man still holds the secret caverns against the new threat."
As Lane ceased, one Ace Kitka spoke:
"There have been many deaths of red men whom I know, of late. I have heard voices threatening me with death, saying that each day one Indian dies until there are no more of us in all this area. I have watched the papers, wondered whether the voice in the night spoke true. It did speak true; the red men are being killed by invisible rays. The deaths are usually heart failure, according to the doctors' death certificates. I have decided to leave Montana far behind myself. If you know what is good for you, you will all go from here."
"Several of my intimate friends have died lately," agreed Lane. "They died apparently naturally: one run over by a truck, one of pneumonia, one of a brain hemorrhage. To us who know the power of the ancient machines, we know that these deaths are not accidents—when they are accompanied by threats from the voices. I, too, have heard the voice."
A deep voice from the back of the crowd made itself heard.
"John Ahahne, a voice I have known for many years, always speaks truth. If he has given us warning that this is not a place for red men, it is true. Ill luck will dog us from the enmity of these spiteful newcomers below. They are no longer our friends; our friends are dead. They are masquerading as our friends while they bring about our destruction. You know that almost always the men of the caverns kill those who know the ancient secret of their dwelling place. If these new conquering ray practice that ancient custom of guarding the secret of the rays, we have no choice but to flee—and far."
A CHORUS of voices began to struggle to be heard—agreeing, telling of ill luck and deaths of friends and relatives. Stevens raised a hand.
"That is enough. I see it is true. We have been blind to think the ray people below are still friendly as of old. Let us leave this country, together, all of us, and find a country where the underworld still contains men friendly to us, or some of the ancient ones to protect us."
One Lee Johnson thrust his lean over-alled body to the fore of the room.
"The main idea is to go where things are good. Maybe the ray won't talk to us other places, but they may leave us alone. They may even help us get started again."
A FUNERAL caravan of motor cars left Butte the next morning. In the long line of cars were some fifty men, their wives and families. Others were leaving singly for locations of their own choosing. Their belongings were lashed to the sides and tops of the cars. In the hearse was the latest of the dead of the Red Legion. He had died in the night of a "hemorrhage, cause unknown," The white men watched the funeral caravan uncomprehendingly.
"Looks like our Indians are turning gypsy, or something. Funny they'd take all that stuff on a funeral trip. Wonder what the police have to say about it?"
"Guess they got a right to leave if they want to. It's when they decide to stop their troubles will begin. There are a lot of Indian laws that Lane and Stevens know plenty about and they are. in that line. Must know what they're doing with these two along. They got a hearse in the line. May be a smart trick to avoid
