She bent her ear close to the pile of brush and the man said, “I perceebe, señorita, and I can do no less. I am grateful that you help me and I will also help you, but I know not where Stephen Hayward is.”
“Where did you take him?” asked Alison eagerly. “You see that I know of his having been taken away by Pike Smith and his men.”
“We took him westward, señorita, into the mountains. There we left him.”
“Why did you leave him? What was your object?”
“There were signs of Indians. We have fear of attack. We must escape. One horse is go lame, therefore we must leave him.”
“What Indians were they?”
“We are told the Apaches.”
“The Apaches!” Alison spoke the name with horror; she well knew the bloodthirsty record of this tribe. “It was cruel, cruel,” she said. “It would have been better to kill him at once.”
“No one is wish to do that. It is promise Cy Sparks not to do so, but only to take him away to a place not return, where Mexicano is keep prisoner; but is come the Indian, we cannot.”
“Did he have arms? Was there a possibility of escape for him? had he food?”