"Yes, Washo knew it, and, more than that, he had known for some days that those particular Indians had been planning a raid upon us, and he didn't interfere; he didn't warn us because he had begun to think that we were all bad white traders, and he wouldn't meddle with these braves who proposed to punish us, though he wouldn't go on the war-path with them. But, Major Molly, when he heard your story, when he saw how one of us could be a little white brave in keeping a promise to an Indian, for your sake he relented towards the rest of us."
"And when he asked me to tell him where I first heard the lariat—"
"When he asked you that, he was making sure that it was his Sioux friends,—for he knew they were to send out a scout who would take exactly that direction."
"But why—why did the scout chase me?"
"He was after Tam, no doubt,—for this Sioux band is probably short of ponies, and Tam, you know, is a famous fellow,—and the moment the scout caught sight of him he would give chase."
"Did he get Ranger that way? And where, oh, where is poor Barney?"
"The probability is that the scout visited the corral first, and captured Ranger, who is almost as famous as Tam."
"But, Barney—oh, oh, do you think Barney has been killed?"
"We don't know yet, my dear. Your father has gone off to the ranch with a squad of men. He'll soon find out what's happened to Barney. And don't fret, my dear, about your father," seeing a new anxiety on Molly's face. "The raiders by this time have seen our signals, and have found out we're up and doing, and more than a match for them; so don't fret,—don't fret, any of you," turning to his wife and Mrs. Elliston. "I don't think there'll be so much as a skirmish."
And the Colonel was right. When the Indians saw the signals and the other signs of activity, they knew that their only chance of overcoming the whites by taking them unawares was gone. There were a few shots fired, but no skirmish; and by the time the moon rose, the fort scouts brought in word that the whole band had departed over the mountains. A few minutes after, when Captain Elliston rode in, the satisfaction was complete, for he brought with him the news of Barney's safety. Ranger, however, was gone. The Indian—or Indians, for there were two of them at that point—had succeeded in capturing him just as Barney had started out from the corral. A stealthy step, a skilful use of the lariat, and Barney was bound and gagged, that he might give no alarm; and all this with such quiet Indian alertness that a ranchman farther down the corral heard nothing.