That was a square offer on the part of Frank. Andy held his breath, wondering if the other would dare accept it. The same courage that had led Jose to face the guns of the Indians might not be sufficient to allow of his getting aboard that wonderful air bird, and let himself be carried up among the clouds.
Jose was hesitating between opinions. He hardly knew which seemed the worse of the two. But one danger he could understand, while the other was along the line of the mysterious and unfathomable.
They saw him pondering for a full minute. Then, as if he had made up his mind, he threw up his hand.
“I will accept your offer, senor,” he said. “A man can die but once, and what matter if he fall from the clouds, he may never know what hurts him. And if I am left here without a mount, the Indians are sure to get me. Advance, then, senors, and fix it as you please. I am ready to take the word of such honorable young men.”
But all the same Andy could see that he shuddered when he cast a glance over toward the quarter where the stranded biplane lay, as though the mere thought of allowing himself to be carried up in the regions of the upper currents aboard that frail combination of engine, planes, and rigid uprights and stays, struck Jose as with a cold breath from the Arctic regions.
CHAPTER XXIII—HOME AGAIN—CONCLUSION
Frank knew that they had better not loiter there. Still, he could not see Jose losing blood like that, when it was so easy to stop the flow.
So, while Andy watched to see that none of the frightened Indians got over their scare, and came sneaking back, bent on potting some of the palefaces, Frank made a quick job of looking after the wounded arm of the Mexican.
The man seemed to hardly know what to make of it all. He watched every move of the amateur doctor as though he could not understand how any one would be so generous toward an enemy. But Frank knew what he was doing, and he meant to extract a promise from Jose, before they left him, that never again would he dream of trying to do any injury toward either little Becky or Mr. Witherspoon, her relative, and legally appointed guardian. And he believed the man would keep such a promise faithfully too; for Frank was a pretty good reader of human nature.
Then they all walked toward the aeroplane that lay there on the hot sand as a camel of the desert might for its Arab owner, prostrate for his mounting.