Chapter XII: A Call and a Reply

Mendez brought momentous tidings indeed. Addicted as he was to silence and with no disposition to talk, he had to do considerable of it now. His imperfect knowledge of English made it necessary for his friends to ask many questions, but it did not take them long to learn all that he had gathered and which has been told in its proper place to the reader.

“Captain,” said the lieutenant, “you have been uneasy all along because I insisted upon our staying here. I could see that you were on the point of making a break for your home; are you sorry now that you did not?”

“No; I will admit that I served my family as well and perhaps better by staying here, but it was hard to believe so at the time.”

“It is rather curious, and I was doubtful myself more than once.”

“Geronimo has the reputation of being a shrewd leader, but I can’t see wherein he shows it by staying in this part of the country, when he could make a dash into the Sutra Valley and be far on his return before we knew anything about it.”

“It is not to be supposed that he holds us in any fear, but it is the other scouts that he knows are somewhere in the neighborhood. He doesn’t wish to move until he learns where they are.”

“But he has done so many times before.”

“Some time when we hold him a prisoner (if we can hold him long enough), we’ll ask him for an explanation. It’s sufficient for us to know that we have served our friends well by keeping him in check. Every hour counts, too, in our favor. He has lost two of his best men and we are without a scratch.”

“True, for the present,” remarked Freeman, looking around in the moonlight, as if he expected to discover some of their foes trying to steal upon them.

“There’s one beauty of the situation which I don’t think you appreciate, captain.”

“What’s that?”

“Geronimo sent out his best scouts to shoot us, or at least to locate us and make it easy for the others to do the job. The chief will wait a long time before he begins to suspect what has befallen that same scout.”

“That was a marvelous exploit of Mendez,” said Freeman warmly; “I never saw a man who was his superior.”

“He has no superior.”

The subject of these compliments sat motionless on his horse, his black eyes glancing in every direction, and on the alert as he always was. He heard and understood every word, but nothing in his manner showed it.

“And yet to my mind his disposal of the scout was not the equal of his exploit in remaining in hiding so near the band that he overheard every word said by Geronimo and his men; that was a wonderful thing.”

“It was indeed. He secured just the news we needed and which gives us a perfect knowledge of the old fellow’s plans.”

“How long do you think he will await the return of his scout?”

Instead of replying, the lieutenant turned the question over to Mendez. Perhaps the latter was impatient with the continued complimentary allusions to himself, for without looking at either of the men, he answered:

“Dunno.”

“Nor does any one else. If I were to give a guess, however, I should say two hours at least, and perhaps longer. Let me see.”

The officer took out his watch, the face of which could be plainly seen in the bright light.

“It is exactly ten o’clock. If I am right in my surmise, he will make no move before midnight.”

“Ain’t right—you wrong,” interjected Mendez, to the amusement of his companions.

“Well, why didn’t you say so before? Now, Mendez, give _your_ guess.”

“Wait one—two—three hours.”

“That’s better, for it takes us beyond midnight. I shouldn’t wonder, if Geronimo waits that long, that he will not conclude it best to give up his raid.”

This was thrown out as a feeler, and both, with a smile, awaited the comment of Mendez, but he made none. He seemed to think he had imparted sufficient information.

“While we are speculating,” continued the lieutenant, “it seems to me that when one o’clock arrives, the chief will send some other scout, or perhaps two or three of them, to investigate—all of which will consume time, so that the night will be well gone before he makes a move. Am I right, Mendez?”

“Dunno.”

The lieutenant was in high spirits over their success thus far and disposed to be facetious at the expense of their grim companion.

“You made the same remark before, as preliminary to a definite expression of your views; may I hope that it will be the same in this instance?”

Perhaps the wording of this inquiry lifted it above the comprehension of the Apache, for, withdrawing his scrutiny of their surroundings for a minute, he looked at the officer, and, in his contempt for his badinage, forgot the respect due his rank.

“Huh! talk like big fool!”

This was too much for Freeman, who threw back his head and laughed heartily, taking care that his mirth should be as silent as possible. Mendez now stared at him, and said with more scorn if possible than before:

“Huh! big fool!”

And then it was the lieutenant’s turn, who almost fell from his saddle with merriment. The scout surveyed the two alternately. He would have been relieved to give expression to his feelings, but made no attempt, possibly because he could not do them justice. Instead, he turned his attention to their surroundings, peering here, there and everywhere with that birdlike restlessness which he always showed when in a situation resembling the present.

The three horses were hungry, for none of them had eaten anything since early in the day, but there was no help for it. Fodder could not be obtained in that section, where, as has been shown, the sandy soil yielded comparatively nothing. They would do well enough while water was to be had, even if compelled to go twenty-fours longer without nourishment. The ponies ridden by the raiding Apaches often suffered for a longer period, and, during many of the hard rides in the frightful summer months, they could not obtain a mouthful of water for long hours, while the raiders themselves underwent hardships which few civilized people can stand.

Lieutenant Decker had a portion of his frugal rations still in reserve, but since they had eaten not long before, it was decided to keep the food until morning.

A long, trying wait was before them, and he and Freeman dismounted, the officer striking a match, with which he lit a cigar, first giving one to Freeman, who found much solace in smoking it.

“I have been greatly depressed,” remarked the latter, “since I learned of this impending raid until now. My thoughts were with my wife and little ones, and the relief is now so great to know that they are not only safe, but that the danger is growing less with every hour that I am in buoyant spirits.”

“The expression of Mendez’s opinion then does not disturb you?”

“No; since you share with me his estimation.”

“His views in my case were made with less emphasis.”

“But he was equally in earnest; if my title of captain, which you are so fond of giving me, was as real as your own, I suspect he would have exchanged the compliments.”

“Possibly, but I forgive him in view of what he has accomplished for the good of the cause.”

“Wait—me come back.”

The men suspected the scout of wishing to place himself beyond range of their observations, for he now rode his horse toward the stream, on the other side of which it was believed the hostiles were still awaiting events.

“I hope he is not offended,” remarked Freeman, when their friend was beyond earshot.

“Offended! no; he doesn’t like to be complimented, in which respect he differs from most folks. I suspect we distract his vigilance and he wishes to get away by himself, where he can do his duty without interference.”

“And yet he apprehends no molestation from the hostiles for several hours.”

“But lacks the guarantee that we will be let alone even for a fraction of that time. He is one of those wise fellows who take no chances. I wonder,” added the lieutenant, suddenly shifting the conversation, “how Cemuri made out.”

“I see no reason to doubt his speedy arrival at the fort, but it is too soon to expect help from there.”

“I am hopeful that he came across some of the soldiers before going that far.”

“He may have met Maroz and Ceballos.”

“It is possible, but he was as distrustful of them as we, and would have avoided them.”

“He was well mounted, but those two scamps are treacherous. They have proved it to the satisfaction of Mendez, whose testimony ought to hang them.”

“It ought to, but it won’t. He overheard enough to show their disloyalty, but he did not see them commit any overt act, and they would plead that they were compelled to pretend a friendship to the hostiles to save their lives.”

“It was fortunate that you sent them off so promptly, for as long as they were in our company there is no saying what evil they would work. Lieutenant, why not repeat the signal you made some time ago?”

“The suggestion is a good one. If it doesn’t bring the boys it may add to Geronimo’s uneasiness.”

Again pointing his Winchester skyward, the young officer discharged it as before—two shots in quick succession, followed by a third at a longer interval.

And this time there was a reply!