"We must clear out of here right away and get through to the other side
of town and be off by daylight without anybody knowing it. They are a
gang of ugly Mexicans who would not let us cross the river if we should
wait till morning. They have already sent a spy over here, and they are
waiting for him to report."

"Where is he now?" Bill Banney broke in.

"They's two of him--I know there is," Rex Krane declared. "One of him
went east, to cut us off I reckon; an' t'other faded into nothin' toward
the river. Kind of a double deal, looks to me."

Both men looked doubtingly at the young man; but without further words,
Jondo took command, and we knew that the big plainsman would put through
whatever Esmond Clarenden had planned. For Aunty Boone was right when
she said, "They tote together."

"We must snake these wagons through town, as though we didn't belong
together, but we mustn't get too far apart, either. And remember now,
Clarenden, if anybody has to stop and visit with 'em, I'll do it
myself," Jondo said.

"Why can't we ride the ponies? We can go faster and scatter more," I
urged, as we hastily broke camp.

"He is right, Esmond. They haven't been riding all their lives for
nothing," Jondo agreed, as Esmond Clarenden turned hesitatingly toward
Mat Nivers.

In the dim light her face seemed bright with courage. It is no wonder
that we all trusted her. And trust was the large commodity of the plains
in those days, when even as children we ran to meet danger with
courageous daring.

"You must cross the river letting the ponies pick their own ford," Jondo
commanded us. "Then go through to the ridge on the northwest side of
town. Keep out of the light, and if anybody tries to stop you, ride like
fury for the ridge."

"Lemme go first," Aunty Boone interposed. "Nobody lookin' for me this
side of purgatory. 'Fore they gets over their surprise I'll be gone.
Whoo-ee!"

The soft exclamation had a breath of bravery in it that stirred all of
us.

"You are right, Daniel. Lead out. Keep to the shadows. If you must run
make your mules do record time," Uncle Esmond said.

"You'll find me there when you stop," Rex Krane declared. No sick man
ever took life less seriously. "I'm goin' ahead to John-the-Baptist this
procession and air the parlor bedrooms."

"Krane, you are an invalid and a fool. You'd better ride in the wagon
with me," Bill Banney urged.

"Mebby I am. Don't throw it up to me, but I'm no darned coward,