“What are we to do?” cried the older man. “They will get us again as sure as fate.”
“They haven't got us yet,” said Billy. “Wait, I got a scheme. Can you walk, Mallory?”
Mallory staggered to his feet.
“I'll see,” he said, and then: “Yes, I can make it.”
“Good,” exclaimed Byrne. “Now listen. Almost due north, across this range of hills behind us is a valley. In the center of the valley is a river. It is a good fifteen-hour march for a well man—it will take Mallory and you longer. Follow down the river till you come to a little island—it should be the first one from where you strike the river. On that island you will find Miss Harding, Norris, and Foster. Now hurry.”
“But you, man!” exclaimed Mallory. “We can't leave you.”
“Never!” said Anthony Harding.
“You'll have to, though,” replied Billy. “That's part of the scheme. It won't work any other way.” He raised his revolver and fired a single shot in the direction of the howling savages. “That's to let 'em know we're still here,” he said. “I'll keep that up, off and on, as long as I can. It'll fool 'em into thinking that we're all here, and cover your escape. See?”
“I won't do it,” said Mallory.
“Yes you will,” replied the mucker. “It's not any of us that counts—it's Miss Harding. As many as can have got to get back to her just as quick as the Lord'll let us. I can't, so you two'll have to. I'm done for—a blind man could see that. It wouldn't do a bit of good for you two to hang around here and get killed, waitin' for me to die; but it would do a lot of harm, for it might mean that Miss Harding would be lost too.”