The chief’s acts were sufficient now to satisfy them that the present danger had passed, and soon after he and his men mounted and rode off without a word.
Chapter Eight.
Rough Customers.
There was nothing to tempt a stay where they were, so taking advantage of their being once more alone, a fresh start was made along the most open course that presented itself, and some miles were placed between them and the last camp before a halt was made for the night.
“We shan’t do no good, Master Bart,” said Joses, as they two kept watch for the first part of the night. “The master thinks we shall, but I don’t, and Juan don’t, and Sam and Harry don’t.”
“But why not?”
“Why not, Master Bart? How can you ’spect it, when you’ve got a young woman and a waggon and a tent along with you. Them’s all three things as stop you from getting over the ground. I don’t call this an exploring party; I call it just a-going out a-pleasuring when it’s all pain.”
“You always would grumble, Joses; no matter where we were, or what we were doing, you would have your grumble. I suppose it does you good.”