Having taken a thorough observation of the exact location of the campfire, the aged scout doubled up, crouching so low that his back could not have been seen above the top of the grass, even if it had not been dark, and advanced, gliding through the mesquite so skillfully that it was nigh impossible for the cowboys to follow him. But out of consideration for them, he paused occasionally, giving them the opportunity to catch up to him.
“We must be pretty close to ’em now,” whispered Ki Yi, after they had proceeded for some ten minutes.
“Uhuh. Palefaces no more thirty yards away.”
“Then let’s rush ’em!” exclaimed Deadshot.
“Get heap full lead,” returned Nig.
This response suggested a contingency that had not hitherto occurred to the cowpunchers and the thought filled them with alarm.
“Won’t we, anyway?” queried Ki Yi, anxiously. “Seems to me it would be better to go back to get the pony and then ride up, shouting to them as we came.”
“Not much!” returned the aged scout. “We play um joke. Come on. Do just what I do.”
It was not without many misgivings, however, that his companions followed him, as, crouching even lower than before, Nig crept upon the unsuspecting ranchmen and cowboys squatting about the fire.
When they were so near that they could not only hear their voices but understand what was being said, the two cowpunchers expected that their guide would play his coup.