The two wiry, swift-footed mustangs, in spite of all they had been through, were ready now for another long pull, but they were likely to stand it better in the cool night hours than under the hot sun. In a few minutes more the two friends were in the saddle.
They had not ridden far before Murray suddenly exclaimed,
"I'm going to do a queer thing, Steve Harrison."
"You won't go back to the Lipans?"
"Queerer than that. I'm going to ride straight in among that band of Apaches."
"What for?"
"I can't exactly say as yet. Will you go with me?"
"Anywhere."
It turned out that Murray was nearly right in his calculation of the time they would reach the valley. It was just as the light of the rising sun grew strong and bright that he and Steve stood on the slope at the lower edge of the forest, and looking through the spy-glass saw the white tilts of the two wagons of the miners.
"They've roused up early," said Murray.