With a downcast heart the young officer entered the cave, which was an old rendezvous of the desperadoes. Inside were a rude table and a couple of benches, and he threw himself down on one of the latter. One of the gang, Potts, put himself on guard outside, rifle in hand. The others separated into two parties, and went off again.
"Can they be going after Joe and Darry, or after Benson?" was the question the captain asked himself.
He waited until the hoofbeats outside had entirely ceased, then called to Potts.
"Where are they going?" he asked.
"That's Captain Gilroy's business," was the answer.
"Oh, so you call Gilroy captain now?"
"We do."
"How many men is he captain of?"
"About thirty, if you're anxious to know."
"Thirty! There are not that number of desperadoes within three hundred miles of this place."