“Whither do you wish to go?”
“I want to see mother once more.”
“Then we go to Mexico.”
“To Mexico? I left mother in Baltimore, Maryland. Why should she be in Mexico?”
“She would not believe that the Comanches had killed you. She yearned to see her stolen boy again, and came thither to hunt you.”
A tear stood in Ned Kyle’s black eyes.
“But these people with us? They do not want to go to Mexico?”
“No, we go without them.”
“’Tis well; I know the trail, and we will safely reach mother’s side. Oh, Tom, I never dreamed of such a meeting.”
The renegade smiled and glanced at Mabel Denison, who had been transferred, at her own request, to a seat before the youth whom she loved.