This was the only disturbing incident of the night, the remainder of which passed quietly.
With the first streak of dawn the troopers were up, as were the cowboys, for Rolling Stone had said, and Buck Tooth agreed with him, that if the Yaquis did attack it would be at dawn, since they seldom fought after nightfall.
But no attack came, and breakfast was served, with sentries on the watch to guard against surprise. Some steaming hot coffee, crisp bacon the odor of which was an aroma in the morning air, flapjacks and sour dough bread for those who wanted it, made the meal, which well fortified those who partook of it for the day's events, which were destined to be strenuous.
Once again the order was:
"Forward—march!"
Again they were on the trail of the Yaquis.
As they advanced the "sign" became more pronounced that the band had passed that way. Whether they had the captives with them could, of course, only be guessed at.
But the trail had been carefully scanned, and there was no evidence that Rosemary and Floyd had been put out of the way. As far as could be told the captives were still the prisoners of the Indians. And there were no marks to show that any smaller body had branched off from this band of Yaquis that had the unfortunate youth and maiden in charge.
So it was with the hope of finding their cousins safe, though perhaps in dire distress, that the boy ranchers pressed on with their friends the troopers and the cowboys.
As the trail became more pronounced, greater precautions were taken against a surprise. And a surprise in the rocky defiles through which they were passing would have been well nigh fatal. So scouts were constantly in the lead, ready at the first suspicious sign to send back word to the main body to be on the alert.