Feigning unconsciousness, she remained quiet, and heard their conversation, for the man ahead soon dropped back and rode alongside, remarking, as he did so:
“I am not sorry she killed the Mexican, as he would have continually bled us.”
“Yes; I promised him a reward for his services, and my sweet Cousin Mary gave it to him; only it was lead instead of gold,” laughed Kent King.
“You think no one heard the shot and will pursue?”
“My reverend father, pistol shots are too common to attract much attention out here; but if we are pursued, it will be by a few decrepit old men and young boys, for all the fighters are out in the mountains after me. They will return to-morrow or next day victorious, in all save my capture; ha, ha, ha!”
“You are a very devil, Kenton!”
“I am my father’s son; but have you the relays of horses all right?”
“Yes, Mendez and myself placed them. The first relay is five miles from here, so we can urge these on faster.”
“I wish Mary would recover, so I could force her to ride. Then we could dash rapidly along. As it is, her weight retards my horse.”
“She certainly remains in a swoon long, Kenton.”