"What do you think is going on?" asked my companion, as several more reports rang out.
"What I feared; the Apaches are attacking the men who went out to bring in the dead and wounded men at Soldiers' Holes."
"And if Mr. Hudson was not the wounded man there, I suppose he is sure to be in this scrape. Why not rush in with the escort and frighten them away?"
"They may be too many for us," I answered, "and it will be prudent to learn the situation at the ranch before we go nearer. I want to join the white men without the Indians' knowledge, if possible."
"If Mr. Hudson is not dead, he must know we are here."
"He may be there, and the men may know we are on the road, but it certainly does not look like it."
"Can't Vic be sent with a message?"
"No; she will not take a message to a stranger."
We had now reached a point from which we could see a log cabin, a stable, and an open shed or tool-house. On the side of the buildings towards us, as if screening themselves from an enemy in the opposite direction, were a few men.
"If you would like me to, sir, I can crawl to the house without being seen," said Frank. "That cart, wagon, oven, and stack will screen me."