"They could," said Jack, "but they didn't. Five of the horses were hobbled when we turned them out. The hobbles had been removed."
"Well, well," stammered Sir Bryson, "what are we to do?"
"Let me take ten days' grub from the store," said Jack. "I'll undertake to bring Garrod back, and at least some of the horses."
"You'd follow on foot?" Linda burst out.
Jack answered to Sir Bryson. "They can't travel fast with their families and baggage."
It was not Jack's safety that Sir Bryson was concerned about. "But—but, leave us here without horses?" he faltered.
Jack smiled a little. "What good am I to you? I'm under arrest. Jean Paul has your ear. Why won't he do?"
Sir Bryson gave no sign of hearing this. "We must return," he said nervously. "We can't stay here—without horses."
Jack's heart sank. "What have the horses got to do with it?" he asked. "You're safe here. You've grub enough for months."
Sir Bryson looked at the half-breed. "Jean Paul says perhaps it is the Indians," he said. "He thinks they may have driven off the horses as a preliminary to attacking us."