"Well, y'u better get a move on y'u. The moon will be down in an hour."
"Get the gal out, then, an' we'll be movin'."
"All right," said the guide, poking his head into the coach. "Here's where you get out. Boss said to treat her well," he continued, turning to the man with whom he had been talking.
"Oh, we'll do that, all right," was the reply.
Stella scrambled painfully out of the coach. All about her were mounted men, both whites and Indians. There were a score or more of them.
"Can you ride?" asked one of them of Stella.
"Yes," she replied, "if you don't go too fast. I'm sick and weak."
"We'll do the best we can," said the man shortly.
Then he called back to his followers:
"Jake, bring up that spare hoss."