“Hell! He couldn’t have gone there. What do you suppose we been doing here?”
“Me no sabe,” replied the Apache. “Him gone—there!”
“How do know?”
“Me follow tracks.”
“You sure?”
“Sure!”
“How long?”
“Mebby so half hour.”
The officer turned to his chief of scouts. “Did you hear that? Slipped through our fingers again. The old devil! Get after him at once. Pick up the trail. Keep after him. We’ll follow. If you get in touch with him don’t attack. Just keep in touch with him until we come up.”
“Yes, sir!”