“You mustn’t forget your own condition, Dick,” Sandy reminded him. “We can’t leave you here alone, can we?”
“One of you could go after we’ve had breakfast. Why couldn’t you, Toma?” He turned appealingly to the Indian guide. “What do you say?”
To Dick’s surprise, Toma drew back and raised one arm in a gesture of protest.
“What you think poor Toma make crazy altogether?” he inquired. “Sandy an’ me both stay here to fight ’em Henderson’s men when they come. What good you think just one against two, three, four—mebbe six, ten men?” he demanded hotly.
It was, indeed, a poser. Dick sat with his head in his hands and Sandy turned wearily away to commence the preparation of breakfast.
CHAPTER IX
THE COUNCIL OF WAR
Breakfast was over and three very sober young men sat down to what Sandy described as a council of war.
“We must make some sort of a plan right away,” he stated. “First thing we know Henderson will be here to catch us napping.”
Sandy’s brow wrinkled at the very unpleasant thought.
“Now my proposal is that each one of us make a suggestion. Then the three of us will consider these suggestions one by one and try to pick flaws in them. Maybe out of the three suggestions we can build some sort of working plan.”