"Now," said Mr. Thompson, as the boys jumped off of the veranda to carry out their father's order, "I will go with you to old Tucker's ranche. He is a man of most excellent judgment, and a trapper; has fought Indians all his eventful life on the plains and in the mountains, so we can safely rely on his advice in regard to what is best to be done." Looking at his wife he said, "Won't you get this man a bite to eat while I'm catching another animal for him? Yours is tired out," continued he, addressing the stranger again; "you must have a fresh horse. I've got lots of them."
While Mr. Thompson went to the stable, and the stranger to the spring to wash the dust off himself, Mrs. Thompson, assisted by Gertrude and Kate, made ready a cold lunch for the half-famished man, who told them, when he returned to the dining-room, that he had not eaten a morsel since the evening before.
By the time he had finished his meal, Mr. Thompson returned to the front of the house with two animals, and taking the stranger's horse to the stable, after the saddle had been put on the fresh one, he returned to the house. He gave his wife some advice about the boys and their mission, then he and the stranger mounted their animals and loped off at a good gait for the ranche of old Mr. Tucker, three miles away.
The boys had started some while before their father, as it only required a few minutes to catch and saddle their ponies that were picketed in front of the house, on a patch of buffalo grass not twenty yards away. In less than half an hour they were at the nearest ranche, and had delivered their message. They then rode on and made the rounds of the circuit assigned them, relating the bad news as they travelled from cabin to cabin as quickly as their hardy little Indian ponies could carry them.
While on their mission the boys talked over the story of the massacre, Joe explaining many things in connection with the savage method of making a raid on a white settlement. Those were things which Rob did not fully understand, but with which Joe was familiar, having been told all about them by the friendly Pawnees. He told Rob that he was crazy to go on the little expedition, but did not dare ask permission.
"Father might be willing, maybe," suggested Rob, "though I'm sure that mother and the girls would object."
"I'll bet that I can find the trail of the Cheyennes, for I know better than any one who is going along, that they were Cheyennes who made the attack," said Joe. "That man who came down with the news don't know much about Indians; I could tell that by the way he talked; he's a 'tender-foot.' He admitted to papa he'd only been in the country a very short time."
"By jolly! I'll bet he was scared when he saw those Indians," said Rob; "he wasn't used to such sights!"
"How he must have ridden his horse," said Joe. "I never saw an animal so frothy in my life before; did you, Rob? You could have scraped a wash-tub of lather off him!"
"If the Cheyennes have left any kind of a trail after them, I can tell just how many there were of them," continued Joe, "but they are ahead of all other Indians in covering up their tracks; old Yellow Calf has told me so a dozen times. I expect that it was Charley Bent's band of Dog soldiers that made the raid."