Happy Dennis! He struck his breast with an air and—hit the bundle he had hidden there, and the trivial incident altered his gravity to mirth. A second before, infected by her fear he had been certain that Carlos had been killed in some accident; now his opinion was wholly changed.
“Sure, it’s go with ye I will. An’ ’tis aye safe an’ sound we’ll find him the now. But hungry? Of course. Else why? See?” He showed her the parcel of bread and they both laughed aloud.
“Good Dennis! Kind Dennis! My father will thank you, oh! so much! when he comes home for—for all your niceness to his children. So, let’s tell the others that we are going and go right away. Come, let’s. Quick.”
Since she would not, therefore, go unattended and because he did not see how it was possible for her, also, to get lost if she kept her attention fixed upon that meeting point at the Pass, Mr. Burnham consented to a temporary division of their little party, warning:
“But be certain to ride back to us before the night comes on, Carlota.”
Mrs. Burnham added:
“And, Dennis, if you let harm happen so much as a hair of her sunny head I shall know you are something less than a man.”
So, delighted to have done with suspense and to be upon the road toward her absent one, the child gayly waved her hand and rode away. Dennis, too, again placed his hand upon his breast—and the loaf—in a supposed “Greaser” style, and goaded the noble Cork to follow whither the humble Connemara led.
CHAPTER XXII
THE SNARES SNARED
Although, as far as the eye could reach, the plateau appeared one unbroken level it was crossed, midway, by an unwooded valley; and, as he gained upon it, the herd of mustangs which Carlos had seen feeding upon the hither side of this hidden valley suddenly disappeared from his view.