The colonel pulled the ends of his mustache and puffed thoughtfully at his cigar before answering:
“I hope so—yes, I think you have; the danger is certainly less now than at any time in the past; and, since you have gone through all that without harm, the inference is fair that your chances are better than ever.”
“Your views cause me some uneasiness, colonel.”
“I did not mean that they should; I am neither an optimist nor a pessimist, but try to look at things as they are. Peace reigns now, but so long as we have the Apaches with us, and so long as evil men have the power to control Indian affairs, so long are we certain to have trouble. It may be that the authorities will learn wisdom after awhile and show common sense in treating with the ‘wards of the nation,’ but I confess I have little hope of their doing so for a long time to come.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
A CRUEL BLOW.
Freeman, having finished his call at the fort and given his horse a good rest, remounted for his return home. Despite the proofs received of the goodwill of the Apaches on the reservation, he was disturbed because of the opinion expressed by the colonel.
It was at this juncture that startling news came to the military post. Mendez, our old friend, the White Mountain scout, dashed up, his horse covered with foam, and his own appearance showing rough treatment. It was not often that the stolid fellow displayed agitation or excitement, but he was greatly disturbed, as his story proved he had good reason to be.
His statement was that Maroz and Ceballos had thrown off the mask they had worn so long, had left the reservation and were at that moment well on their way to the Apache Mountains, to the south of the Gila. Those fastnesses once reached, they could defy the whole United States army to remove them.