“Want I should take you into camp?” he asked in an eager whisper, but Rogers shook his head; he was not convinced, yet why and what he doubted was more than he could have told.
“We'll go back,” he said at last. “Go first;” and they descended the ridge in silence. Rogers was vainly seeking to fit some explanations to the mystery, beyond Raymond's words. When they reached the scene of their original encounter, he paused for an instant.
“I reckon you'll have to go on with me for a little spell before I turn you loose,” he said. “No, you can come back here and get your gun when I'm through with you,” and he laughed shortly.
“Oh, all right,” said Raymond cheerfully. “It's just as you say.”
“You bet it's as I say,” and he motioned the deserter to precede him again.
They crossed the ridge that lay between them and the pass.
“I reckon this'll do,” said Rogers. “I sha'n'. want you to go any further. Look here, the Landrays treated you all right.”
“They did indeed,” said Raymond gratefully.
“Well, what are those men yonder in camp for?”
“I just got through telling you that, Mr. Rogers,” responded Raymond with an injured air. “The outfit's bound for the States. Old Brigham reckons you godless cusses back East need some converting; that's what he's up to, and I'm helping rush 'em to the river.”