“I know where it is,” spoke up Dell. “It’s about two miles and a half from here.”
“Paleface go there. Say he meet other paleface name Hendricks at Squaw Rock. Tell Apaches come Squaw Rock report if they make trouble for Buffalo Bill. Me hear um say so.”
“Good!” exclaimed the scout. “That gives us something to work on, Dell, and we won’t have to go back to the camp and wait for Nomad to carry that agreement and that bar of bullion to the deserted shaft.”
“Me go too?” asked Little Cayuse.
“We’ll have to take you, Cayuse. I wouldn’t let you try to tramp back to the mine in your present condition.”
“Ugh, me all right.”
“Most white boys, with a shoulder like yours, would be in bed, Cayuse.”
“Me use um left hand.”
“All aboard, Dell,” said the scout, getting into his saddle. “If we’re going to do anything with that ruffian who mistreated Cayuse, we’ll have to lay him by the heels before the Apaches join him. You lead the way and set the pace. Cayuse and I will tag along on Bear Paw.”
“It’s a rough road,” said the girl, rising to her own saddle; “by taking an even rougher one we can lop off that extra half mile.”