It will not be denied that a most memorable experience befell Lieutenant James Decker, and yet what shall be said of that which came to Maurice Freeman, whom he left beside the spring, while he went forward to reconnoiter?
After taking his second deep draught of water, he walked aside, as will be remembered, being impelled thereto by the same distrust that led the young officer some time later to hide himself while the three Apaches came forward to quench their thirst.
“I understand his action,” reflected the father; “he distrusts my judgment; he believes I am so upset by my affliction that I would run blindly into danger; but he is mistaken. Heaven knows that I have suffered and am still tortured by anxiety for my little boy, but I know better than to make his peril greater by any recklessness on my part.
“I would be offended if it were any one except Lieutenant Decker, but who can be offended with him?” asked the captain, with a glow of admiring gratitude; “he has risked his life for the sake of little Fulton and will continue to risk it so long as a shadow of hope remains. He is one of the most chivalrous, noble-hearted young men I ever knew, and if he lives will earn his star.”
When fifteen minutes passed without bringing the expected signal from the lieutenant, Freeman wondered whether anything was amiss. Had he thought any danger threatened the young officer, he would have hastened to his aid, without hearing his call; but decided to await something more definite.
With the same suddenness as his young friend, he became aware that he was not alone. Some one was near him and that some one must be an enemy.
The disturbance which brought this knowledge was so exceedingly faint that at first the captain could not decide what point it came from. He did not dare move, therefore, through fear of a misstep; but, grasping his Winchester, he looked and listened with all the acuteness he possessed. The Apache must have been the first to detect the presence of another, for, with all of Freeman’s caution, he was outwitted by the warrior, who appeared so suddenly that he seemed to rise out of the very earth and to be standing erect in front of the astonished captain before he knew where to look for him.
But Freeman was a veteran soldier and was not the man to surrender, so long as he was able to strike a blow for himself. He recoiled a step, so as to secure elbow room, and was in the act of raising his rifle to his shoulder, when the Apache spoke:
“No fire—me friend.”
“Heaven! Mendez, where did you come from?” asked the astounded white man, recognizing the Apache, upon whom it may be said all their hopes rested.