“You can settle it easier through somebody else. You’ll have to pay full value for that horse, for he went off with the raiders. I saw him go. If I were in your place, I’d put money enough in Mr. Gilbert’s hands to straighten up the whole business—he’ll do it if you ask him, just because he knows it would please George—and then I’d dig out. I wouldn’t come back either, until Mr. Gilbert thought it safe for me to do so. But before you go, you might as well tell one of the men to bring in a thousand head of cattle and pasture them between here and the river.”
“What do you mean by that?” exclaimed Uncle John, starting up in his chair.
“I mean that you won’t find George in Brownsville when you get there. You know those two fellows who were sent here to watch the rancho, don’t you? Well, they let George go by them to-night.”
Uncle John was well aware of that fact. If they had not allowed him to pass he could not have reached the house. That was what caused him to exhibit so much astonishment when his nephew first entered the office. He knew that the trail was watched, and he could not imagine how George had escaped capture.
“George came on horseback, and they were looking for a boy on foot,” said Philip. “He is safe now, however. I have put them on his trail, and a few hours more will see him on the other side of the river.”
“But what will become of Ned and Gus?”
“I told the men not to trouble them.”
“But they can never find their way without a guide.”
“Haven’t they got a pair of tongues, and isn’t the trail as plain as daylight?”
Uncle John settled back in his chair and fastened his eyes on the floor. He was silent for a long time, but finally he said: “I wish you hadn’t done it.”