“There may be several causes,” replied Lattin; “in the first place, maybe he run into a hornets’ nest and was knifed before he could shoot a second chamber of his revolver. Them Apaches work quick at such business, and they would shove Eph under in the style of greased lightning.”
“But,” suggested Herbert, who was after every grain of comfort, “it might be he found trouble in getting inside the building.”
“That’s likely, though Ard and me went up in sight of it without runnin’ agin any of the varmints; but it couldn’t have kept him all this time, for if he didn’t get inside long ago he would have given up and come back to us.”
“Do you suppose there has been any trouble with Rickard?”
“I don’t see what trouble there could be; all the work Eph had was to find out the best the scamp would do, and then either agree or disagree with him. The most likely trouble is that Eph found the varmints so plentiful when he started to come back that he hasn’t been able to get through and is waiting for the chance.”
“If that proves the case, what will be done in the morning?”
“It’s hard to tell till the morning comes. Rickard and Slidham may come out to help us fight our way in.”
The incident was not impossible, but what a unique state of affairs it suggested! It recalled the affairs in the Southwest, during the Mexican War, when a party of Comanches and “Greasers” would assail a handful of Americans, working as the most ardent allies until the Americans were disposed of, when the Mexicans and Indians would turn upon each other like cat o’ mountains.
“Hello!” said Lattin a few minutes later, “there’s the moon.”