Sunset Pass | Page 4

of
purgatory than try their luck among the Tontos. I believe one Apache
could lick a dozen of 'em."
The captain turned slowly back, and took a good look at the Mexican as
he sat on his high spring seat, and occasionally encouraged his team
with endearing epithets, or, as in the manner of the tribe, scored them
with wildest blasphemy. Ordinarily Manuelito was wont to show his
white teeth, and touch the broad, silver-edged brim of his sombrero,
when "el capitan" reined back to see how he was getting along. To-day
there was a sullen scowl for the first moment, and then, as though
suddenly recollecting himself, the dark-skinned fellow gave a ghastly
sort of grin--and the captain felt certain that Pike's idea was right. The
question was simply how to circumvent him.
At sunset the little party was cosily camped on the edge of Snow
Lake--a placid little sheet far up among the mountains. The plateau was
broken by a low ridge a few miles east, through a gap in which, known
as Jarvis Pass, ran the road to Sunset Pass beyond. Horses and mules,
securely tethered, were grazing close at hand. The two wagons were
drawn in near the little camp-fire. The children were having a jolly
game of hide and seek and stretching their legs after the long day's ride
in the wagon. Kate was stowing away the supper dishes. Manuelito was
stretched upon the turf, his keen, eager eyes following every motion of
his captain, even though his teeth held firmly the little paper tobacco
holder he called his "papelito." Out on the open ground beyond the
little bunch of trees Pike could be seen, carbine in hand, scouting the
prairie-like surface and keeping guard against surprise. The sun went
down. Twilight hovered over them; Kate had cuddled her beloved
"childer" into their beds in the wagon and the captain had come around
to kiss them good-night. Manuelito still sprawled near the tiny blaze,
smoking and watching, and at last, as the bulky form of the Irish

nurse-maid disappeared within the canvas walls of the wagon, the
Mexican sprang from his recumbent position, turned, and with quick,
stealthy step sped away through the clumps of trees to where the
animals were placidly browsing. He bent his lithe body double, even
though he knew that at this moment the captain and the ex-corporal
were over at the east end of their little camp-ground, chatting together
in low tones. He laughed to himself as he reached his mules and found
them heavily hoppled with iron chains.
"As if I would take a burro when one stroke gives me a caballo
grande," he muttered, and pushed still further out to where the four
horses were "lariated" near the timber. A word to "Gregg" whom he
had often cared for; a gleam of his knife from the sheath and the gallant
horse was free to follow him. Still in silence and stealth he led him
back toward the camp-fire where the saddles were piled. Still he
marked that Captain Gwynne and Pike were in earnest talk down at the
other end of the camp. Warily he reached forward to grasp the captain's
saddle, when a low exclamation was heard from that officer himself
and, peering at him through the trees, the Mexican could see that he
was eagerly pointing westward and calling Pike to his side.
Instinctively Manuelito glanced over his shoulder and saw a sight that
told him horse-thieving would not save his tawny hide; that told him
their retreat was cut off, and their only hope now was in standing
together. Back among the pines through which they had come; well
upon the ridge, and not ten miles away, blazed an Indian signal fire. It
was the Apache summons for a quick "gathering of the clans."
Now God help the bairnies in the wagon!
CHAPTER II.
MANUELITO'S TREACHERY.
All this time Darkey Jim had been sleeping soundly, wrapped in his
blankets, with his feet to the fire. There was never an hour, day or night,
when this lively African could not loll at full length, in sunshine or
shade, and forget his cares, if cares he ever had, in less than three

minutes. In this case, despite Sieber's warning, which he had overheard,
he simply took note of the fact that the captain and Corporal Pike were
looking after things and that was enough for him. There was no use in
worrying when "Marsa Gwin" was on guard, and within an hour from
the time he had had his substantial supper, Jim was snoring
melodiously, with his head buried in his arms.
Manuelito was thoroughly aware of this trait of his "stable-mate," else
he had not dared to bring the captain's horse so close to the fire. Now
his