Mrs. Evans reined her horse close along side of Vic's pony, but said nothing. Her face was pale, but that of Vic's was flushed fiery red. So was Cal's as he touched Dick with his heel and sent him forward head-and-head with Sam's gray.
Four unmistakable red warriors, armed to the teeth, were rapidly riding nearer.
"Mother," exclaimed Vic, "I'm ready."
"So am I," said Mrs. Evans, sharply. "We can both help."
Each had a revolver in her hand, and Vic afterwards remembered how glad she felt, just then, of all her target practice. Her thought was, "I can hit one, I know I can."
The leading idea in Cal's mind was that his hero-time had come, and that he alone was quite enough for four Apaches. The expression upon his face, during about two minutes, was tremendously heroic. He glanced behind him and saw just such another look upon that of Vic, but the smile his mother gave him made him feel like a whole regiment of cavalry.
"Isn't he splendid!" said Vic.
Just then the four red men halted. They were only twenty yards away, and it might be that they were getting ready to shoot. They were conferring for a brief moment.
Cal drew rein, as Sam did, at the same time, and one of the Indians rode forward holding out his right hand, palm up.
"How?" he said. "Chiricahua chief want Sam? Ugh! Heap friend."