"Course I'm not saying all Yaquis are alike. There may be some half way, or maybe a quarter way decent. And maybe they've captured this young lady and gentleman just for ransom. In that case they'll take good care of 'em."
"Do you think so?" asked Bud, for, truth to tell, he had been greatly alarmed as he thought of the possible fate of Rosemary and her brother in the hands of the unprincipled Yaquis.
"Oh, sure!" asserted Rolling Stone, with more conviction than he felt. "They're after money, these Indians are, or what money will buy. And they like good U.S. money instead of Mex. dollars which are worth about fourteen and a half cents a pound just now. So it's to their interests to treat their captives well, so they'll bring a good price in the market."
"Good price?" exclaimed Nort. "Do they put them up at auction?"
"No, I didn't mean just that," Rolling Stone hastened to add. "I mean if they ask a ransom they're bound to keep the prisoners in good shape for if they don't produce 'em in that same fashion they're likely to slip up on the reward."
"Then they won't harm Rosemary or Floyd?" asked Dick, whose vivid imagination had pictured his cousins as being subject to the tortures of the burning stake.
"Well, of course they won't have feather beds to sleep on," spoke Rolling Stone slowly, "but I take it your cousins are used to roughing it, and it will be no worse than a scouting trip for them."
"Yes, I s'pose Floyd is used to camping out," admitted Bud. "But as for Rosemary—"
"Don't worry, son," advised Snake. "Rosemary is a western girl and you know what your sister is."
"That's right!" and Bud visibly brightened. "Nell could look after herself if given half a chance. And maybe we'll catch up to these Yaquis before very long."