The poor fellow's eyes were full of dread at the thought of being left alone in the wilderness.
"Of course we'll take you along, John," Bert continued, "though I don't know what on earth we'll do with you. But we'll settle that later on."
Dismounting, he gave the Chinaman a leg up on one of the led horses. The Oriental had never been on a horse in his life, and he made a comical figure, as he bobbed up and down. After threatening to fall off at any moment, he finally abandoned all effort to sit upright, and, leaning forward, threw he arms around the horse's neck and held on for his life.
"It's rather hard lines," laughed Dick. "But when he thinks of what he's getting away from, I guess he won't worry much about getting shaken up a little."
Soon they reached their own horses, and were proceeding to make the exchange, when they remembered the sentry who had been captured on that spot. They looked at each other with a little touch of perplexity.
"We can't leave him there to starve," said Tom. "On the other hand, if we remind the captain, he'll simply send one of his troopers to put a bullet in him."
"He's our captive," said Bert, "and I guess we'd better tend to this on our own account. We didn't actually promise him his life, and no doubt he's deserved death many times over. We got some valuable information out of him, though, even if it was at the point of a bowie, and I think we ought to untie him and let him go."
As there was no dissent from this, they went to the tree where they had left the sentry. They found him nearly dead from terror. He had heard the sounds of the fight and the cheers of the soldiers, and knew pretty well how the struggle had ended. Now, as the boys approached, he tried to read their purpose in their eyes. He knew how he would have acted, had the case been reversed, and he did not dare to hope for mercy. But, to his astonishment, they took the gag from his mouth, untied his hands and told him he was free. He shook himself and then staggered away in the underbrush, trying to get out of sight before his deliverers should change their minds. They watched him till he vanished, and then retraced their steps to where Melton was waiting.
"You did right, boys," he said. "Although," he added, "a good many might think it was a case of misplaced sympathy. While I was waiting, I was reminded of the story of the little girl, looking at a picture of the early Christians attacked by lions in the arena. Her mother saw that she was crying, and was pleased to see that she was so tender-hearted. 'It is sad, isn't it?' she asked. 'Yes,' sobbed the child, 'look at this poor thin little lion, that hasn't any Christian.'"
The boys laughed, as they sprang into the saddle.