“It’s a good thing to know when to run, old man,” replied Diggs.
They entered the pass in safety and were quickly followed by the rear guard. Rafe Norris came last and leaped from his horse quickly.
“Lances to the front,” he cried. “Joe Beaver, take ten men up the east side of the pass and don’t let any one come up. Boston Jake, take the same number of men up the west side with the same instructions. If you had done this before, Jim, you would have saved some men.”
“I know it, now,” said Diggs. “D’ye want to save this prisoner? He ain’t wuth much to keep.”
“I have not fully made up my mind,” replied Rafe Norris.
“Shoot me, why don’t you?” cried Old Pegs. “You shot the Indian and Velveteens, good friends of yours, and why not Old Pegs?”
“Dog!” hissed Rafe Norris. “You don’t know how near to death you are at this moment. Breathe a word of that kind again and you are a dead man.”
“I don’t keer much how soon I go under,” was the undaunted reply, “but I don’t believe even your men would stand a murder like that. Why don’t you try it?”
“’Twon’t do, Cap,” whispered Diggs, with a side glance at the men. “Thar’s over twenty of our boys gone under, and some of ’em ar’ alive, probably. If we kill him now thar ain’t no chance for them.”
“See that he does not escape, that is all. If he does, your life will answer for it. I am satisfied that, without him for a guide, the devils can’t get at us, and our taking him was a sore stroke to them. I am going up to see my intended bride, Old Pegs.”