Lieutenant Decker smilingly extended his hand to his astonished friend.
“You did not expect either of us, but we are here all the same.”—[Page 184.]
—The Young Scout.
“It was all due to him,” replied the officer, nodding his head toward the Apache, who did not open his lips, but stood, looking back over the route he had just traversed, as if watching for some expected form, or listening for a signal that had not yet been made.
“I suppose so, but that fact does not explain matters.”
“Mendez is not addicted to talking, but I think I learned more of his thoughts than any one else. When you parted from us this forenoon, I supposed you meant to go home and wait until night, before making any move to help your child, but that shrewd fellow read your intentions in your face and in your manner. He told me you meant to ride away from the river until out of our sight and then cross and take up the trail of Maroz and Ceballos. I would have followed you and protested against such foolhardiness, but knew it was useless.”
“He hit the truth,” remarked Freeman, with an admiring glance at their friend, whose attention seemed still drawn away from them and who showed no interest in the conversation.
“Instead of attempting to interfere with you, we rode fast to the fort and reported to the colonel; he had already learned the truth from the Indian scouts whom he had sent across the river some hours before. The indications were unmistakable that eight or ten hostiles were on the war path, and, unless prompt measures were taken, the number would be increased. The colonel isn’t the man to hesitate at such times and he moved quickly. A number of our best men at the post, with three White Mountain Apaches, all well mounted and under Captain Shindle, who was a veteran at this business before I entered the Point, set out for the mountains.”