WHILE Herbert Watrous lay on the ground, at the top of the elevation, with the Texans waiting for the return of the old trapper, he asked Strubell to explain their action on the night of the first norther, when they sent him and Nick through the hills to the other side.

“Well,” replied the cowboy, “our first purpose was to have you out of the way when the scrimmage took place, for we knew it was coming sure.”

“But you said you had no trouble with Rickard and his gang.”

“And we didn’t; off in another direction was a party of Comanches that must have taken us for their own warriors, for they began signalling in a way that made it look so. We answered their signals, but they found out the trick before we could trap them. However,[258] they were out for game, and they came at us in the evening. It isn’t worth while to give the particulars,” added the Texan significantly, “but when the fun opened it wasn’t long before the red gentlemen found out their mistake. They rode off—that is, some of them did—and that was all.”

“But what of Rickard and his men?”

“While we were having the row with the Comanches they played a clever trick on us. They got round through the ridge, without our suspecting it till next morning, and walked off with Nick.”

“They might as well have captured both of us,” said Herbert, “and I have often wondered that they did not.”

“They took the highest priced one,” observed Strubell, with a chuckle, “but I guess there was another reason. Bell had a spite against Nick, and meant to put him out of the way if he couldn’t fix the ransom business. While the main thing was money with him, it wasn’t that alone.”

This point in the story was reached when the three heard the report of old Eph’s pistol,[259] which rang out on the night with startling distinctness. It was nearer the building than the elevation where the friends were awaiting the return of the trapper.

“By gracious!” exclaimed Strubell in an excited undertone, “I can’t stay here, knowing he needs our help, for all he told us to do so.”

“And I feel the same way,” added Lattin, rising partly to his feet, “but what about leaving Herbert here?”

It was this thought that held the two for a moment, but the youth hastened to say:

“If you can do him any good, go at once; I am in no danger.”

“I think not, but I aint sure. If anything disturbs you,” added the elder, “mount your horse and make off; your pony can go as fast as any of theirs.”

But for the belief, confirmed by the action of the Apaches, that they did not suspect the presence of the whites, neither Strubell nor Lattin would have allowed Herbert to be alone; but they knew that if they were to help the trapper not a second was to be lost.

[260]

Instead of mounting their animals, they hurried down the slope on foot, breaking into a run, or rather loping trot, which enabled them to cover much ground with little noise, as their feet pressed the greensward.

The distance was considerable, and when they approached the spot where the pistol had been fired, they slackened their pace, listening and peering into the gloom, which was so deep that they could see no more than fifty feet in any direction.

“This must be near the place,” whispered Lattin, “but where is he?”

“It’s a good sign if we can’t find him, though I don’t understand why he used his pistol unless he was in trouble.”

As nearly as they could judge, they were within two or three hundred yards of the building. It was so easy to err as to the point whence the report had come that they paused, undecided what to do.

Darkness was on every hand. Not the first outlines of the structure could be distinguished, nor was there a glimpse of any man or animal. The stars were shining brightly in[261] the clear sky, and their light was all that guided their progress.

“We’ll go a little further,” said Strubell in the same guarded undertone, “but we must be on the watch, for we’re in a bad place ourselves.”

&ldq............