Undoubtedly it was fortunate for himself as well as for Herbert that he did not take long to reach a conclusion. At the moment the youth believed a meeting was certain, his steed wheeled and was off like a shot in the darkness—gone before Herbert could have taken any aim.
He drew a sigh of relief at being left alone once more and so unexpectedly.
“I believe that warrior will be back,” was his conclusion, “and if he is he won’t find me here.”
Recalling the advice of Strubell, he hurried to where the horses had been left. They seemed to have concluded that the coming of night released them from the command of their masters to remain on the ground, for the whole four were on their feet, cropping the grass. Their saddles were in place, but their bits had been shifted to allow them to eat, and each one was improving his time.
Jill gave a faint whinny on recognizing his master, and seemed pleased to feel him in the saddle again.
“I don’t know which way to go now that I’m ready,” thought Herbert, “but it won’t do to ride far, or Strubell and Lattin will have another young man’s ransom to arrange for.”
Manifestly the counsel of his friends was meant that he should hold himself ready to flee the instant it became necessary, but until then, the chances were even that he would not decrease his peril by a change of quarters.
A creditable motive led Herbert to adopt what might be called a compromise, and which was not lacking in a certain acuteness.
If he remained until detected by the Apaches, and should then dash off, they were sure to discover the other horses, and would shoot or stampede them, leaving the three men in a hapless plight; but if Herbert were charged upon at some other point, even if not far removed, the animals might be overlooked in the flurry of pursuit.
He therefore rode his pony parallel with the elevation and in a southern direction, until he had gone a hundred yards or more, when he drew up, and awaited the development of events.