"We'll start right now, then," Nick decided. "I've gotten all the bills and doc'ments. You'll sign 'em when the goods is duly delivered. You'll be ridin' in front, I guess? You'll take the boy along? Say, if you scents trouble ahead, jes' hustle him back ter make me wise. Savee?"
Kiddie rode well in advance of the leading wagon, with Rube at his side. He was now more than ever silent and watchful. Between Horse Shoe Bend and Hot Springs, where they were among the foothills and narrow valleys, his gaze was fixed steadily forward over his pony's restlessly twitching ears. He moved his rifle crosswise in front of him. Without averting his gaze, he said to the boy—
"Just drop back, Rube, and tell Nick ter close up the ranks."
Still riding forward at an easy pace, he gave no sign that he had seen anything unusual. The row of dark objects showing along the upper edge of a projecting rock might well have been mistaken for so many birds preening themselves in the sunlight, only that his keen eight had caught the movement of a pony's tail and the half-hidden plumes of an Indian's head-dress. He dropped the loop of his bridle reins over the pommel and slowly gripped his gun with a finger on the trigger.
Instantly, the Redskin's head was raised. Kiddie fired at it. There was a wild, barbaric yell, and from both sides of the ravine Indians dashed forth from their ambush, riding downward to the attack.
CHAPTER IV
BROKEN FEATHER'S WAY
When he had fired that first shot, and while the Redskins were still riding out from their ambush to rally on the level trail and charge down in a compact body upon his outfit, Kiddie turned his pony and galloped back under a hail of arrows. Most of them fell short; very few flew past him, and only one touched him, doing no harm.
"That's right, Nick," he called, as he drew rein beside the leading mule wagon.