“But, Elam, I am coming back.”
“Well, when you come back, I’ll talk to you. Now, go away an’ let me alone. I can bear it best by myself.”
To make a long story short—for we lost no time in getting out of Texas—we made up our minds to start for Mr. Chisholm’s bright and early the next morning. It would take us two days to get there. Bob had all my money, as well as the funds belonging to the cowboys, and we knew that they were safe. I said nothing about my coming back to search for the hidden valuables in the hope of turning them over to Coyote Bill, or about Henderson’s attempts to draw a revolver on me, for that was a part of Bill’s plan to aid me in my escape; and, besides, that was a secret that was locked in my own breast until we got to sea.
“Poor Sam won’t want his money any more,” said I. “I saw the place where he lost his life. But the other two cowboys I didn’t see. I hope they are at Mr. Chisholm’s.”
I never slept so well in that ranch as I did that night, for I looked upon it as a little short of a miracle that my party had all come back to me. They had travelled all the way to Austin twice, and had never seen an Indian. That was better than I did, for I wanted to tell of the scenes I had witnessed in that camp, but there was no need of it. When morning came, and we started on our way, I kept a close watch of the prairie almost in fear of seeing some of Bill’s band, but they had taken their eight hundred cattle away to be slaughtered, and I never saw them again. Eight hundred cattle, did I say? I believed they had more than that. By separating his band after the attack on the paymaster was made, the chief had been able to attack half a dozen ranches almost at the same moment, and got away with some cattle at each place. I thought that eight thousand head of stock would more nearly fill his bill. In due time we pulled up at Mr. Chisholm’s ranch just at supper time, and there I saw something that made me feel good—a couple of fellows sitting in chairs, who were evidently too badly hurt to move about. The one had an arrow through his foot, the other had something the matter with his arm; but the way they greeted us proved that there was nothing the trouble with their lungs. They were the two cowboys who had been out with Sam Noble herding stock. But they had not seen me when I was captured, they were miles away by that time, and so I breathed easy.
“Well, by gum! if you fellows aint here yet,” said Mr. Chisholm. “Where did you leave the Indians?”
“Didn’t see any while we were gone,” said Bob, who ran up the stairs to the porch and fairly hugged the wounded cowboys. “How do you do, anyway? You have seen some Indians, haven’t you? How did you boys manage to escape?”
It was a story that was soon told. The Indians got after them down at the gully—how well I remembered where it was!—and killed Sam and his horse dead at the first fire. The others threw themselves behind their horses, Indian fashion, and got safely off, if we except the two arrows that went through them.
“But my money is what troubles me,” said the one who did the talking. “My money is what bothers me, dog-gone ’em! They went to our ranch an’ got everything we had.”
“How do you know?” asked Bob. “I slept at the ranch last night, and found something.”