“There’s not much more to say, sir. We shall stay here till dusk, giving the redskins a reminder now and then that we’re on the alert; and at last, when we feel that they’re coming on for the attack, into the saddles we jump, and steal off till we’re out of hearing, and then crawl till we make sure of the trail of the mules, and then gallop.”
“But the ponies will have gone with the mules,” cried Chris excitedly.
“You’d better not let them,” said Griggs, with a grim smile at the boy. “You’ve got to see the train started well on its way from the bottom of the gully, and then bring the horses here—all six, mind.”
“Yes, I see,” said Chris, brightening up, the sun seeming to come out on his gloomy, powder-smirched face. “But what about Ned’s and Mr Bourne’s ponies?”
“They’ll have to be contented with mules. They’ve only got to walk, and there are several now with half loads. We shall want their ponies for spare mounts, so as to give the others a rest now and then, for when we leave here we shall have to make the best of our way.”
“Oh!” cried Chris joyously. “I wish I were as clever as you are, Griggs.”
“It’s all right, my lad,” said the American grimly; “don’t be in a hurry. I’ve learned a bit about the Indians, and you’ve got that to begin with; by the time you get as old as I am you’ll have picked up a deal more than I know, and you will not think much of me then. Now, doctor, what’s your idea?”
“Yours, Griggs,” cried the gentleman addressed. “It cannot be bettered. You hear, Bourne?”
“Yes, I hear,” was the reply; “but about the Indians. You will not escape them; they’ll follow your trail.”
“A bit,” said Griggs, “while they’re hot and wild after finding out that we’ve tricked them and gone; but I seem to think that they won’t tramp far and leave their mustangs shut up in the valley. They’ll come back to get them out, and that will take them days, even if they do it then; while if they can catch us after giving us about a week’s law, I shall feel disposed to forgive them.”