“If you can do him any good, go at once; I am in no danger.”
“I think not, but I aint sure. If anything disturbs you,” added the elder, “mount your horse and make off; your pony can go as fast as any of theirs.”
But for the belief, confirmed by the action of the Apaches, that they did not suspect the presence of the whites, neither Strubell nor Lattin would have allowed Herbert to be alone; but they knew that if they were to help the trapper not a second was to be lost.
Instead of mounting their animals, they hurried down the slope on foot, breaking into a run, or rather loping trot, which enabled them to cover much ground with little noise, as their feet pressed the greensward.
The distance was considerable, and when they approached the spot where the pistol had been fired, they slackened their pace, listening and peering into the gloom, which was so deep that they could see no more than fifty feet in any direction.
“This must be near the place,” whispered Lattin, “but where is he?”
“It’s a good sign if we can’t find him, though I don’t understand why he used his pistol unless he was in trouble.”
As nearly as they could judge, they were within two or three hundred yards of the building. It was so easy to err as to the point whence the report had come that they paused, undecided what to do.
Darkness was on every hand. Not the first outlines of the structure could be distinguished, nor was there a glimpse of any man or animal. The stars were shining brightly in the clear sky, and their light was all that guided their progress.