employed in the pack train and had
been up through this range towards Chevelon Fork--he had heard him say
so. Very probably, therefore, he had struck out for the old "short cut"
back to the Verde. It was impracticable for wagons but easy enough for
mules--and it lay, so Pike judged, ten or fifteen miles south of the
Pass. The very thing! It would be the most natural course for him to
follow since the signal fire west of Snow Lake had showed them the
evening previous that the Indians were on their trail. Doubtless the
captain had reasoned it out on the same line and ridden southward along
the western base of the range until he had overtaken his treacherous
employe. A huge shoulder of the mountain shut off the view in that
direction, but the theory seemed so probable to Pike that his spirits
began to rise again as he struck the road Why! It might readily be that
at this moment the captain was not more than a mile or two away, and
hurrying back, fast as the mules would let him, to join the loved ones
whom he had left at camp.

"It's a theory worth banking on for an hour or two at least," said Pike
to himself. "By Jinks! I'll swear to it as long as it can possibly hold
good. There's no use in letting them worry their hearts out--those poor
little kids. God be with us and help me to bring them safely through!"
And so, much comforted in spirit, the old trooper--half New England
Puritan, half wild frontiersman--strode briskly down the road,
determined that he would make no move for the Colorado until he knew
from the evidence of his own eyes that the Apaches were coming in
pursuit.

The shortest way from Jarvis Pass to the point where they now lay
resting, was by way of the road along which they had come the night
before, on both sides of which, as has been said, the country lay
comparatively clear and open for miles to both north and south. Pike
felt certain that with the aid of his glass he could see the Indians
almost as soon as they got out upon the plain and while still many a
long mile away. Then there would be abundant time to bundle their
supplies into the ambulance, run it back to the road, stow Kate and the
children safely in the interior and whip up for "the Chiquito," leaving
their pursuers far behind. What a mercy it is, thought Pike, that these
Tontos have no horses! The captain, too, he argued, even if he had not
started before, would have an eye on that road wherever he was, and
would gallop for camp the mom