So he opened the throttle and started away with the Man.
He kept on until satisfied that he had reached a safe point.
Meanwhile the Indians reached the pass and entered it.
The vigilants, however, did not seem in a hurry to pursue. They remained on the battle ground for some while looking after their dead and wounded.
When they did start for the pass Pomp had returned and was there stationed.
As they came up the darky put his head out of the screen door and shouted:
“Good fo’ yo’, Marse Harmon. Jes yo’ gib dem Injuns a good lickin’ fo’ luck. I reckon yo’ kin do it.”
“I reckon we can, Pomp,” replied Harmon. “At least we’ll try it.”
“If yo’ sees Marse Frank, jes tole him fo’ me, dat his carriage am waitin’ fo’ him. Will yo’?”
Harmon replied that he would and rode away laughing immoderately.