Sunset Pass | Page 5

fierce, half Indian face seemed full of perplexity and dread. The
Apache signal fire still glowed among the black pines away to the
westward. The captain and Corporal Pike were hurriedly coming
towards him through the stunted trees,--yet here he stood with "Gregg,"
all irresolute, all fearful what to do. Back towards those black pines and
the long reach of road beyond he dare not go. The Tontos held the line
of retreat. Here in camp he hardly dare remain for the keen cut in
"Gregg's" side line showed plainly that the knife had been used, and left
him accused of treachery. Out of the fire light and back to the grazing
ground he must get the horse at once--but what then? Noiselessly
turning, he led Gregg, wondering, back to the glade in which the other
horses were tethered, and quickly drove his picket pin and put him on
the half lariat. But how was he to conceal the severed side line? Off it
came, both nervous hands working rapidly, and then when he had about
determined to cut off the lines of one of Jim's mules and so throw
suspicion on him, his African mate, he was aware of his captain
striding through the trees toward him. He could almost have run away.
But the next words re-assured him.
"That you, Manuelito?" challenged Captain Gwynne in low, hoarse
tones. "All right! Take the side lines off Gregg and saddle him for me
at once. I have work to do."
The Mexican could hardly believe in his escape. For the time being, at
least, he stood safe. It would be easy enough later to "lose" the telltale
side line in the waters of the lake. Manuelito cursed his folly in having
used the knife at all. Haste prompted that piece of bad judgment. He
could have unbuckled them just as well. But all the same he blessed his

lucky stars for this respite. In three minutes he had "Gregg" saddled and
ready by the little camp-fire. There stood the captain and Pike in low
and earnest conversation.
"I shall only go out a short four miles," said the former, "but I must
satisfy myself as to whether those beggars are coming this way to-night.
Gregg and I have 'stalked' them many a time and the country is all flat
and open for six miles back."
"I wish the captain would stay here and let me go," pleaded Pike.
"No! I'm never satisfied without seeing for myself. You and Manuelito
will have your arms in constant readiness, and watch for me as I come
back. There's no moon--no light--but so much the better for my purpose.
Is he all ready, Manuelito? Let me glance at my little ones in the
ambulance before I start."
Who can say with what love and yearning the father bent over those
little faces as he peered in upon them? The flickering light of the
camp-fire threw an occasional glimmer over them--just enough to
enable him to see at times the contour yet hardly to reveal the features
of "his babies." He dare not kiss for fear of waking them. "God bless
and guard you, darlings," was the choking prayer that fell from his lips.
Then, vigorous and determined, he sprang into saddle.
"Now, Pike," he muttered, "you've been with me in many a night
bivouac and you know your orders. They never attack at night unless
they know they have an absolutely sure thing, and they haven't--with
you three. Jim, there, can fight like a tiger whenever there is need.
Watch the horses. I'll be back in an hour or there'll be reason for my
staying."
Three minutes more and they heard the rhythmic beat of "Gregg's"
hoofs out on the open plateau and dying away westward, sturdy,
measured, steady in the trot the captain preferred to any other gait. Pike
moved out to the edge of the timber, where he could hear the last of
it--a big anxiety welling up in his heart and a world of responsibility
with it; but he clutched his carbine the more firmly and gave a

backward glance, his face softening as his eyes fell upon the wagon
where little Ned and Nell lay sleeping, and darkening with menace and
suspicion as he took one swift look at Manuelito, cowering there over
the fire.
"Blast that monkey-hearted greaser!" he muttered. "I believe he would
knife the whole party just to get the horses and slip away. I'll keep my
ears open to the west--but I'll have my eyes on you."
Once out at his chosen station, Pike found himself in a position where
he could "cover" three important objects. Here, close at his right hand,
between him and the lake, the horses and mules were browsing
peacefully and as utterly undisturbed