Further satisfaction was awaiting the scout and the girl, for they discovered their riding-gear close to the place where they had left it. Although it was quite evident that the gear had been overhauled by the Apaches, nothing had been taken away.
“Geronimo’s doctored water got in its work, Dell,” laughed the scout, “before the Apaches could exercise reason enough to get away with our horses and their trappings.”
“Such a cross-play of fortune couldn’t happen more than once in a thousand times!” declared Dell.
“In er million, more like,” said Nomad, pawing over a lot of Indian blankets to get the best one for the buckskin. “I got ter ride without er saddle,” he went on, “till I git whar I kin buy one. Some one o’ Geronimo’s bucks prob’ly has my own ridin’-gear by now. ’Course ther reds thet ambushed us stripped ther hoss.”
“You can wager they did, Nomad,” returned Dell. “It takes an Apache to tell a good saddle and bridle when he sees them.”
“An’ et don’t take him long ter seize ’em, nuther, onless ye happen ter be lookin’.”
When Bear Paw, Silver Heels, and the buckskin were in readiness, and while the troopers were collecting the Indian cayuses and stringing them together, the scout and the lieutenant stood by the pool.
It had filled to the brim, since the Apaches had paid their visit.
“Geronimo must have had a powerful lot of dope put in there, Cody,” said Doyle. “You and your party emptied the pool, didn’t you?”