The two friends continued to talk in this way until Captain Clinton's cook came up and told George that dinner was ready. They rested half an hour after the meal was over, and then set out again, Mountain Mose leading the way and Mr. Wentworth, as before, riding by himself. As George was a sort of supernumerary, he was under little restraint, and consequently he rode where he pleased—sometimes in company with the scout, sometimes beside Captain Clinton, and then fell back to exchange a few ideas with Bob. He did not, however, waste much time with the scout. The latter was talkative enough until he learned that George held the same position that he did, and then he froze up at once.
"You're a pretty-looking scout, you be!" he exclaimed, moving his eye over the boy's trim figure. "Do you reckon you could tell the trail of a Kiowa from the track of a coyote?"
"Yes, I reckon I could," answered George with a smile. "But you need not be jealous of me, for I shall not interfere with you in any way. I came to the post to hunt Greasers, and not to trail Indians."
"Oh, you did, eh? So you're the chap that's goin' to show the boys the way acrost the Rio, be you?"
"I am," replied George.
"Well, all I've got to say is, that them that follers you is fools. I thought mebbe you was agoin' to poke your nose into my business; and that is something I won't put up with from nobody. If thar's anything I do understand, it's Indians."
This was true, but it sometimes happens that luck is not on the side of those who know the most. The scout would have given anything he possessed if he had been fortunate enough to perform the exploit that George assisted in performing before two days more had passed over his head.
Bob Owens did not fail to notice that there was not the least semblance of a trail to be seen anywhere. They had left it at the ruins of Mr. Wentworth's rancho, and he waited with no little impatience to see where they would pick it up again. He found out about sunset, for at that time the column reached the banks of a small water-course, and there they struck the trail, which was so broad and plain that it could be followed at a gallop. George, in company with some of the officers and the scout, spent a few minutes in looking it over, and then rode back to report the result of his observations to Bob Owens.
"There are not many warriors in the party," said he, "but they are so well supplied with horses that they can have a fresh mount every day if they want it."
"How do you know that?" asked Bob.