"The American had a scar on the bridge of his nose, and the Mexican had lost his front teeth?"
"Exactly. What do you know about them, Brenda?"
"They were here, but I did not see their ponies nearer than the stable; they were black and cream color. The Mexican traded saddles with uncle. You'll find the one he left in the lean-to, on a peg beside the door."
Both boys leaped to the ground and ran round the house to the lean-to, and presently returned with Henry's neat McClellan saddle. It had been stripped of its pouches and small straps, but was otherwise unharmed.
"Well, when I come back with Chiquita, Mr. Arnold, I'd like to trade saddles."
"All right, youngkett, I'll trade, or you can take it now, and welcome," replied the ranchman.
"No; I'll leave it until I return."
The saddle was taken back to the lean-to, and after a few more words of leave-taking we started up the valley. A few miles of rapid travelling brought us to a steep ascent into a mountainous range to the right. We had proceeded but a short distance through a narrow and rugged roadway when we were overtaken by the military expressman whom we had left at Fort Whipple. He had come from Prescott to Skull Valley by a short cut.
"I have a letter for you, lieutenant," said he, approaching the ambulance.