As Carlito started down the road, he met Ike loping along rather lamely.
"Anybody hurt," gasped the driver as soon as he was within hearing distance.
"No. How about yourself," Jerry answered, surprised and at the same time relieved to see the darky had not sustained any injury.
"Oh, I'm tough," grinned the driver, resuming his seat. "Say, what was dat thing? I heard a rush and somethin' soft give me a swipe in de face jest as the hosses broke, an' over I goes."
"Was it in the air?" asked Dunk. "Bird mebbe."
"Bird nothin'," contradicted Jerry. "It felt a heap bigger'n any bird I ever heard of."
By this time the ladies had again taken their places in the hack and Ike took up the reins.
"Better come along, Carlito," urged Fly, but the Indian boy shook his head.
"See you at the B. P. ranch to-morrow," he said. "Get there about eleven and you'll hear something worth while. So long." And the Apache sprang on his pony and disappeared into the night.