The Young Scout: The Story of a West Point Lieutenant

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

“Wait for the signal, or better, I will return to you.”

“It is the same distrust,” reflected Freeman, when he was once more left alone; “but in this business I suppose one man is better than two.”

Despite the reassuring words of the lieutenant, he was somewhat troubled by the new phase of the situation. Of the four Apaches whom he had seen, one received a sharp reminder of the presence of a white man in the neighborhood. If he carried the news to the camp of his people, they would see the probable meaning of it, since no white person would come thither for a drink of water, unless he left companions in the vicinity. The fact that he was near the spring would indicate that others were not far off, and that the solitary Apache held such belief was almost proved by his withdrawal in the face of danger. A warrior with his acumen and skill, who had come so near outwitting his antagonist, would not be apt to give up the game of hide and seek, unless he expected a change of conditions through the arrival of other white men. He must have felt himself the equal of a single foe, but had no wish to become involved with several. His course was simply a retreat before an enemy whom he expected to be joined by reinforcements.

On the other hand, he might be operating on his own responsibility, or, if a scout, would not rejoin the main party until he could take more definite information to them.

It will be seen that the young officer was in a maze of doubt and speculation. Like the detective trying to trace a crime, he could spin theories without limit, only perhaps to find them all wrong in the end. The situation which confronted them was that they were to wait at the rock some distance off until the coming of Mendez, and when he came, he would bring good or evil news. That was the situation in a nutshell.

Had the lieutenant discovered more Apaches near the spring, he would have seen cause for misgiving and alarm. He, therefore, reconnoitered the spot with the utmost care, listening and peering here and there with the patient caution of an Apache himself. It required but a brief while, however, to satisfy himself that none of his enemies were prowling in the neighborhood. Some of them might have come and gone, while he was holding converse with Freeman, but it was unlikely.

The lieutenant, therefore, did not hesitate to emit the guarded whistle which quickly brought his friend to his side.

“I have discovered nothing amiss,” he explained; “I don’t believe any of them have been here since the three I told you about.”

“I presume you wish to take the lead as usual?”

“It makes no difference,” replied Decker, who, however, took care to place himself in advance, with the other only two or three yards behind him. The route had become familiar to both and neither needed to warn the other to be careful. They advanced in the crouching posture to which they had become accustomed, with heads thrown forward, stepping softly, looking keenly on all sides and listening for the first indication of danger, which might come from the rear as well as from the front.