The scout broke off abruptly. There was a thump of hoofs along the trail, swiftly approaching. A moment later a pinto pony with a small rider broke into sight and headed for the corral.
“Cayuse!” exclaimed the scout. “This is better than I hoped for.”
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE MOB FROM PHELPS’ RANCH.
“How, Pa-e-has-ka?” said Little Cayuse, sliding from Navi’s back. “You make um heap quick ride to town.”
The sharp-eyed lad saw that there was something unusual in the wind. A look at the scout’s face, even if there had been no other evidences of trouble, would have been enough for him.
“Where are Wild Bill and the baron?” the scout asked.
He was hoping they might be so close that Cayuse could go after them and get them to the ranch before H-P outfit arrived.
“All same down river,” reported Cayuse. “Make um hunt for Red Steve.”
“Are they having any luck?”
“Find um trail, lose um, find um again.”