As Decker had remarked, Maroz and Ceballos were two Apaches who were frequently seen at Fort Reno. Two years before they were among Geronimo’s most ferocious followers, but, for most of the time since, had claimed to be, and indeed had conducted themselves like good Indians. Both were addicted to the use of “tiswin,” that decoction of fermented corn, which is amazingly quick to inflame the evil passions of an Indian to the highest degree.
Despite the professions of these two bucks, and the fact that nothing wrong was known against them, they had not the confidence of the colonel nor of most of the soldiers at the fort.
It will be understood, therefore, that neither Lieutenant Decker nor Maurice Freeman felt that degree of relief which would have been theirs had they known of a certainty that they were joined by two friends, for what can be more trying than the company of those whom we distrust amid the gravest possible peril?
Having announced themselves, Maroz and Ceballos immediately joined the two horsemen, who treated them as if certain they were friends.
“Why are you here?” asked the lieutenant.
“Geronimo somewhere,” replied Maroz, speaking for himself and his companion; “come with warrior—he burn ranch—kill white folks—white folks brothers of Maroz and Ceballos—dey help brothers.”
It was in the mind of Freeman to interpose with the question as to how these two had learned of the presence of the Apache leader, when until a few hours before it was unknown to the white scouts, but it would have been unwise at this point to let the two know they were not fully trusted.
“Where are our men?” asked Decker; “I have signaled but hear nothing of them; they ought not to be many miles away.”
“Maroz and Ceballos don’t know—dey somewhere.”