The morning passed without incident, save for one or two false alarms, and there was a sigh of relief when the midday meal was served without interruption in the shape of hostile bullets. Then, after a brief rest for the horses, the march was again taken up.
"I wonder when we'll find them?" asked Nort.
"It's been quite a while now," added Dick.
"Poor Rosemary," sighed Bud, trying to find an easy position for his wounded hand. "She must have had a tough time."
"Yet she had a lot of grit to send that message the way she did," commented Nort.
"Yes, only for that we wouldn't have known about it for a long time—maybe too late," agreed Bud.
It was but a few minutes after this talk that, suddenly, a shot rang out well up ahead. Instantly every nerve tingled for it might mean the beginning of the last fight. The shot was almost at once followed by others, and then a scout came clattering back.
"We've found 'em!" he cried. "And it's going to be a dickens of a fight! They're in a regular fort!"
The firing in front became more brisk. Clearly all the van guard was now engaged, and quick orders were issued to send up a squad or two of the troopers, while the main body prepared for what they hoped would be the last battle.
Captain Marshall rapidly questioned the messenger who had come back. The man told how he and his companions had been riding along when they were suddenly fired upon. The shot came from a ledge at one side of the defile through which the trail ran, and they had a glimpse of a Yaqui warrior shaking his fist at them in defiance as he disappeared amid the rocks after delivering his warning shot.