Within three minutes all were scattered, and Roger found himself riding beside Wilkins with his gun ready in the event of further trouble. They had not far to ride. The very first house they came to was lighted up for a festivity, and there were sounds of merry-making within.
"Doughty," said Wilkins, "I'm going in here. You take the horses and turn them so that my beast is close to the door, with his nigh side handy. I may need to mount in a hurry. If I do, you wheel sharp as I touch stirrup and I'll cover the retreat."
He leaped from his horse, and seeing that his gun was handy, Wilkins gave a cheery shout and walked in. Roger waited excitedly, his heart beating like a trip-hammer. But there was no trouble, and a few moments later Wilkins came out, chatting with the host.
"It was Crooked Antonio who left here," he said to Doughty, as they cantered back on the homeward trail, "it appears he had been nearing trouble there and got a hint that his room was a whole lot more desirable than his company. We had trouble with him before. I'm sorry for Antonio, for he's gone so far now that Barrs will see he gets all that's coming to him."
Taking the road quietly, Wilkins and the boy reached camp just at the same time as Barrs and his assistant, save that the assistant was walking beside his horse, holding on the saddle a stranger who evidently had been wounded.
"They seem to think at Volaccio's that it must have been Crooked Antonio," said Wilkins as soon as he caught sight of the chief.
"Yes," answered Barrs, "that's who it was. Well, he's put this fellow into pretty bad shape, and it's lucky he didn't pot some of us."
"But what was it all about?" asked Roger of his companion.
"I don't know, son," was the ready reply. "Guess he was feeling a little good, any way, and then he thinks he has a grudge against the Survey over some cattle mix-up with a party that was here a couple of years ago."
"And what did this fellow have to do with it, Mr. Barrs," the boy continued, seeing that the chief was listening to Wilkins.