At this sudden cry and the stopping of the ambulance I thought more people were come for our gold, and my spirit resigned itself. Sit still was all I should do now, and look for the bright day when I should leave Arizona forever. But it was only Mrs. Sproud. I had clean forgotten her, and did not at once take in to what an important turn the affairs of some of us had come. She stepped out of the darkness, and put her hand on the door of the ambulance.
“I suppose you’re the Paymaster?” Her voice was soft and easy, but had an ample volume. As Pidcock was replying with some dignity that she was correct, she caught sight of me. “Who is this man?” she interrupted him.
“My clerk,” said Pidcock; and this is the promptest thing I can remember of the Major, always excepting his conduct when the firing began on the hill. “You’re asking a good many questions, madam,” he added.
“I want to know who I’m talking to,” said she, quietly. “I think I’ve seen property of yours this evening.”
“You had better get in, madam; better get in.”
“This is the Paymaster’s team from Fort Grant?” said Mrs. Sproud to the driver.
“Yes, yes, madam. Major Pidcock—I am Major Pidcock, Paymaster to the United States army in the Department of Colorado. I suppose I understand you.”
“Seven canvas sacks,” said Mrs. Sproud, standing in the road.
“Get in, madam. You can’t tell who may be within hearing. You will find it to your advantage to keep nothing—”
Mrs. Sproud laughed luxuriously, and I began to discern why black curly might at times have been loath to face her.