"Now don't you make too much fire," says the chief, "'cause the less smoke we show the better for our health. We want no strangers projecting around to pay us mawning visits."
"Colonel," says Jim, "how's Curly?"
"Right peart, and chirping for breakfast."
The boys came rolling in from night guard. "Now you, Crazy Hoss," says McCalmont, "rope the day hawsses, and put the herd to grass befo' you feed. You, Buck, is all secure?"
"Wall, boss, there's United States pony-soldiers, three hundred haid of 'em, comes trailing down out of the Mule Pass."
"Heading this way?"
"No, seh; they're pointing for La Morita."
"I see. It's because of the shockin' outrage yesterday on them pore Mexican Guards at La Morita. I expaict that ole Mexico is up on its ear for war, and they'll be sending their army to eat the United States. Jest take yo' glasses, Buck, and see if that Mexican army is coming along."
Buck rode to the nearest hill and looked over the top without showing himself on the skyline; then he came sailing back, and rolled up to the chief, all snorting.
"There's the dust of an army on the Fronteras trail."