"And you're right about that, Tubby!" called Merritt. "Even when you lie down flat you make a better mark than most of us do sitting up!"
"Keep your breath, fellows; you may need all of it!" Rob called out just then, and this stopped the controversy.
Rob urged his horse alongside that of the Mexican guide.
"How are we going to come out of it, Lopez?" he asked anxiously. "Will they get at us before we make the smoke?"
The experienced eye of the other had before now accurately measured the distances; and doubtless he was figuring matters out at the time the scout broke in with this leading question.
"If no bad luck," Lopez assured him, "we surely come to the burning bridge before the wolf pack doubles us up, young señor."
"By bad luck you mean an accident?" Rob demanded.
Lopez shrugged his shoulders and cast a swift, meaning look back at poor fat Tubby, who was belaboring his tired mount with the flat of one hand, and urging the beast on and on. Evidently the guide had been half expecting an accident to happen in this quarter for some time, and was, in fact, surprised that the clumsy scout had held on so long; but then, he did not know what a stubborn nature Tubby possessed.
"Si, señor, a horse might slip, and toss his rider; or it may be a passing bullet happen to go in the wrong place and do damage. Who can tell? But let us hope it will not so bad as that prove. We are doing well; and the smoke, it is not so far away as it seems!"
All of which must have been poor satisfaction to Rob, who from that moment found himself enduring new agonies every time he twisted around to see whether Tubby still held forth.