"Not to them we haven't."
In a few minutes more it was too late, if it had not been just then, for the gleaming lances of a full company of the Mexicans began to shine above the grass and bushes behind the miners.
"Trapped, boys! I wonder what they're going to do?"
The Mexican commander was nearly ready to tell them now, for, as his really splendid-looking horsemen closed steadily in upon the silent squad of wild-looking desperadoes, he himself rode forward toward them, accompanied by two officers in brilliant uniforms.
Captain Skinner rode out as if to meet him, but was greeted by an imperative, loud-voiced,
"Halt! Dismount!"
The fire flashed from the eyes of the ragged little Captain.
"Close up, boys! Dismount behind your horses, and take aim across the saddle."
He was obeyed like clock-work, and it was the colonel's turn to "halt," for no less than three of those deadly dark tubes were pointing straight at him, and he saw with what sort of men he was dealing. Had they been six dozen instead of only less than two, they would not have hesitated a second about charging in upon his gay lancers, and would probably have scattered them right and left.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded of Captain Skinner.