t, through a gap in which, known as Jarvis
Pass, ran the road to Sunset Pass beyond. Horses and mules, securely
tethered, were grazing close at hand. The two wagons were drawn in near
the little camp-fire. The children were having a jolly game of hide and
seek and stretching their legs after the long day's ride in the wagon.
Kate was stowing away the supper dishes. Manuelito was stretched upon
the turf, his keen, eager eyes following every motion of his captain,
even though his teeth held firmly the little paper tobacco holder he
called his "papelito." Out on the open ground beyond the little bunch of
trees Pike could be seen, carbine in hand, scouting the prairie-like
surface and keeping guard against surprise. The sun went down. Twilight
hovered over them; Kate had cuddled her beloved "childer" into their
beds in the wagon and the captain had come around to kiss them
good-night. Manuelito still sprawled near the tiny blaze, smoking and
watching, and at last, as the bulky form of the Irish nurse-maid
disappeared within the canvas walls of the wagon, the Mexican sprang
from his recumbent position, turned, and with quick, stealthy step sped
away through the clumps of trees to where the animals were placidly
browsing. He bent his lithe body double, even though he knew that at
this moment the captain and the ex-corporal were over at the east end of
their little camp-ground, chatting together in low tones. He laughed to
himself as he reached his mules and found them heavily hoppled with iron
chains.

"As if I would take a burro when one stroke gives me a _caballo
grande_," he muttered, and pushed still further out to where the four
horses were "lariated" near the timber. A word to "Gregg" whom he had
often cared for; a gleam of his knife from the sheath and the gallant
horse was free to follow him. Still in silence and stealth he led him
back toward the camp-fire where the saddles were piled. Still he marked
that Captain Gwynne and Pike were in earnest talk down at the other end
of the camp. Warily he reached forward to grasp the captain's saddle,
when a low exclamation was heard from that officer himself and, peering
at him through the trees, the Mexican could see that he was eagerly
pointing westward and calling Pike to his side. Instinctively Manuelito
glanced over his shoulder and saw a sight that told him horse-thieving
would not save his tawny hide; that told him their retreat was cut off,
and their only hope now was