Having worked without interruption, he was beginning to congratulate himself upon his success, when a disturbing thought brought a sigh from his lips.
He was stopping one hole, he might stop another, and still a third outlet from the cellar might be left open. That outlet must open into the inclosure.
There was not time to go out and search for it, so with a grave face he hurried to the room that had been his prison, and contented himself with barring the door.
A few minutes later, through one of the windows in front, he saw Thunder Cloud and his Apaches emerge from the grove of trees, and saw a diminutive, thin-faced white man, whom he took to be Bat Wason, come from around the building and greet the Apache chief.
The conversation, carried on in the Indian tongue, was overheard by the listener. The translation follows:
“Why is the chief back?” asked Wason.
“Because Black Wing is a deceiver.”
“How’s that?”
“He promised to get the Comanches out of the holes so that a treaty of peace could be made, and instead he has put on the war paint and defies the Apaches.”
“Did you try to rout the Yelpers from their holes?”