“Oh, no,” said the outlaw; “me and my boys must get back to where the wagons was left and stand guard. These reds ought to be along, too, for they get paid to do the work; but I know enough about the cusses not to lose any time talkin’ the matter over. They’ll stand by you and that belt while they’ve got a drop of blood in their veins. Ready, boys?”
“Ready, ready,” was shouted by all, and the horses were taken rapidly from their pickets.
“Good-bye, old Van,” said Blossom. “I’ll see you agin afore long. Look out for yerself and don’t get within range of a weapon in the hands o’ that black cuss.”
“I’ll mind my eyes,” laughed the lucky villain. “Good-bye, and remember that I feel grateful for what you tried to do for me just as much as though you had succeeded, and if ever I can do anything for you, just name it. I shall handle a pile of rocks in about three or four weeks, and intend to hang out in bang-up style in Clarkville, and then I want you to come and have a smashing good time with me.”
“I’ll be there,” cried Blossom. “So long, old boy. Three abreast; wounded in the middle; keep close and lope nose to flank. Ready, forward!”
And in good style he led his troop away from the grove.
Van Dorn turned to the waiting chieftain at his side.
“Well, Black Arrow?”
“Shall my braves eat before they shall seek for the trail of the black rider?” asked the Indian chieftain; and had Van Dorn so commanded, the reds would have gone hungry in implicit obedience to his will.
“Yes; let them eat and be quick,” answered the white rascal. “As soon as they are done we will start. I do not want to take away the command of the braves from such an able chief as Black Arrow. I shall ride with you, and tell you what to do for me, and you can give your orders.”