At the conclusion of the recital the three held a consultation as to what was best to be done. Time was precious, and the town was two miles distant.
"Sargints," said Private Tom, "I belave we can do bist by oursilves. You say the grass-boat is close by, Hinery?
"Not far from here, Tom."
"And the thaves are going to camp and cook their supper on the other side?"
"So they said."
"Thin lit's interfere with their arringemints. I think the Liftinint will overlook an 'absince without lave' if we bring in the raskils and the ponies."
The soldier and boys turned, and, bidding Vic keep close to them, hurried to the bar where Henry had left the gift of the Mojave belle. As they were lifting the elastic raft into the water they heard the voices of men on the river, and knew that the horse-thieves were fording the stream.
The Colorado was shoal, having an average summer depth of four feet at La Paz. Clary secured two poles from the river débris lodged on the bar, one for Frank and one for himself. Henry sat on the box in the middle, holding his companions' guns across his lap with one hand, and grasping Vic's collar with the other. The well-filled game-bags were between his feet.
The balsa moved slowly towards the opposite shore and rapidly down stream, the stalwart Irish soldier's feet settling into the loosely bound stems as he poled. Becoming alarmed when he found the water standing above his ankles, he called, in a subdued undertone:
