Varley turned his head over his shoulder.
“Search the camp, boys,” he said, briefly.
The Dog’s Ear men were not all cowards, and they snarled and showed their teeth, and the big man was unwise enough to seize Varley’s bridle. The next instant his arm fell useless to his side; Varley had struck it with the butt end of his revolver.
“See here,” he said, “there’s no need for fighting unless you’re spoiling for it. We mean to search the camp, every inch of it; we’ll do it quietly, if you like, but we shall do it. The first man who hinders us will pay the penalty. You know me!”
The big man cursed him fluently and with an astonishing wealth of detail; but none of his men ventured to raise a weapon, for the Three Star men had gradually surrounded him and pressed them into a little group. Varley addressed a dozen men by name.
“Keep guard,” he said, “and if any man offers to move, shoot him; otherwise don’t fire a shot.” Then he and Norman dismounted, and, followed by Taffy and several others, commenced their search. With candles and torches of pine wood in their hands they went the round from tent to tent, hut to hut; every tool-shed, every inch of cover was closely examined. As they proceeded, Varley’s heart grew heavier. Esmeralda was not there.
“What is to be done?” asked Norman.
Varley wiped the sweat from his brow and looked straight before him without answering. At that moment, the vivid imaginations of both men were busy picturing the girl they loved so dearly helpless in the hands of an implacable and unscrupulous foe. Varley went back to the crowd of prisoners and confronted the big man, whose arm was now bandaged to his side.
“She is not here,” he said, sternly.
The man swore.