"I reckon we would," added Comanche Tony.
Jesse looked at them steadily for a moment, the lines of his face softening almost imperceptibly.
"No boys. This is my kettle of fish. And I'm going to fry them alone. If I should fail to get back in an hour and you don't hear anything doing, send Bill up to the Indian village to size things up. You will know what to do after he gets back."
"Be careful, Jess."
"Put the little one in a hole in the rocks some where hereabouts and block it up with stone so she can rest easy. We don't want any buzzards nosing around her tender little body," was the great desperado's parting injunction as he passed out from the circle of light and strode away on his mission of death.
Very tenderly they bore the body of Dew Drop, deeper into the cave. Finding a suitable place they laid her away, blocking the opening as directed by their chief. Then these hardy men—these men to whom murder was merely an incident in following their vocation of rapine and plunder, with one accord clutched their hats from their heads and stood bowed before the shrine of the child who had given her life to save them.
"I reckon she war no less'n twenty-four carat fine," opined Tony, turning away slowly.
"She war that," chorused the others solemnly, nervously crushing their sombreros in their awkward hands, and following slowly after him.
Just within the entrance they paused and with one accord squatted down on the hard rocks where they lighted their pipes.