“That’s Valentine!” gasped the colonel,“and Emerson! What are they doing here?”
Another of his aides, the heavyset MajorCalvin McRae, hurried to his side, so excited that he neglected tosalute or, indeed, to offer any kind of greeting.
“The repeaters, Colonel! The entireconsignment ...!”
“Confound you, Major!” chided Stone. “Areyou trying to deafen me?”
“Those salty Texans!” chuckled McRea. “Igot the whole story from Boyle.” He proceeded to assail Stone’scars with a loud, exuberant description of the battle of the LuckyDutchman, as reported by Sergeant Boyle. And, during this, Stone’sgaze drifted to the horses carrying the dead and wounded hijackers.“The nerve of those Texans!” grinned McRea. “One pinned thosegunrunners down, while the other fetched one of our patrols. Everygun, Colonel! Every brand new repeater looted from those freightwagons!”
“It’s true, sir,” frowned Kerwin. “Thestolen guns were hidden at the Lucky Dutchman mine in the SantaRosa mountains. A search party had searched the cabin and themineshafts, but, according to Valentine, the cabin had been builtto camouflage one of the outlets ...”
He broke off, because the colonel was nolonger listening. To the infirmary strode the grim-visaged Stone,and with mixed feelings, his relief mingled with resentment. Thesafe return of the hijacked rifles was cause for rejoicing. But, tobe obligated to those arrogant, insolent Texans ...?
In the large tent that served as the camphospital, Major Vaughan was performing an operation. His patientwas an Apache brave and, to, Stone’s chagrin, the M.O. was playingto an audience. Two other braves were in close attendance, watchingVaughan’s every movement. So were Larry and Stretch. Stripped tothe waist, the Texans sat close by the operating table. Vaughan’sorderlies were working first aid on Larry’s dented rib andStretch’s creased shoulder.
“What is the meaning of this?”barked Stone. “Major Vaughan, that man is an Indian!” He pointedsternly at Vaughan’s unconscious patient, then nodded to the woundedtrooper sprawled on a nearby cot. “Would you tend the injuries of aredskin—before one of our own men?”
“The trooper ain’t hurt real bad,” Larrycalmly assured Stone, “but this Injun got a slug in his chest,which the doc is diggin’ out of him. Doc figures to save hislife.”
“He’ll survive,” Vaughan announced. Heraised his forceps to exhibit the bloodied bullet. “Fortunately,the wound wasn’t deep.”
In Spanish, Larry addressed the twobraves. “Remember what you have seen this day. The son of yourchief has been spared—his life saved by the white medicineman.”
“We have seen.” One of the braves noddedvehemently.
“This buck,” Vaughan informed the colonel,“happens to be Mochita—son of Gayatero. Valentine has made asuggestion. If we’re wise, we’ll heed it.”
“Be specific, Major,” snapped Stone.
“I’m busy,” said Vaughan, “so I’ll letValentine explain it.”
“Colonel,” said Larry, “you’ve gotGayatero over a barrel. While I was barricaded in that shack at themine, the boss hijacker tried to talk a deal with me. He let on whyhe stole the rifles. Sure, he figured to give ’em to Gayatero, butnot as a gift—not by a long shot. It was gonna be a trade. Seemssome of Gayatero’s braves went a’raidin’—I don’t know when orwhere—but ...”
“California,” offered Stretch. “A placecalled Collado Bernadino. I got it from one of Sunday’s sidekicks.You’d be surprised how talkative some hombres can be—with a bulletin their hide.”
“Anyway,” said Larry, “those braves madequite a haul—a fortune in raw gold. And now it’s hid somewheres onthe Sun Dog reservation. That’s what the hijackers were after,Colonel. Gayatero knows it—and you know it. You hold all the aces.Play ’em right, and I’ll bet Gayatero’s bunch will stay peaceablefrom here on.”
“I don’t need advice from ...!” beganStone.
“You’ll never get such a chance again,”warned Larry. He jerked a thumb toward the operating table, and tothe watching braves. “An army doc has just saved Mochita’slife—with two Apaches as witnesses. You savvy what this means?Gayatero is beholden to you. He won’t enjoy feelin’ that way, buthe can’t dodge it. Take Mochita home, Colonel. Tell Gayatero youknow all about the gold—and that the Ninth will be usin’ newrepeaters from now on. Gayatero will be the most peace-lovin’Apache you ever saw. There’ll be no war-talk, and it wouldn’tsurprise me if he handed over every ounce of that stolen gold—andno arguments.”
On principle, the colonel couldn’timmediately agree to Larry’s proposal. He argued, scoffed andranted for some considerable time, but the issue was never indoubt. Midmorning of the following day, a sore and sorry Mochitawas taken back to Sun Dog Mesa, lying in the padded bed of an armywagon. With him went the two braves who had accompanied him on theabortive project of the day before. Colonel Stone led thisdeputation with a heavy force of battle-wise troopers, all armedwith the new repeaters.
Even under these embarrassing circumstances,Gayatero’s cunning prevailed. He humbly thanked Stone for thesaving of his son’s life, but blandly denied any knowledge of WebbCollier and his nefarious enterprise. No proposition had been madeto the Apaches. As for stolen gold, well, some braves from anotherreservation had brought many sacks to the mesa one year ago and hadleft them here for safe keeping. Gayatero knew nothing of theircontents. If the colonel claimed these sacks contained stolen gold,he was most welcome to take possession of it, and to return it tothe place from whence it had been stolen. However, it must beunderstood that Gayatero and his people were completely unaware ofthis theft.
Confronted with the old chief’s bare-facedduplicity, Stone somehow managed to control his temper. The stolengold was unearthed and loaded into the wagon by braves who castmany a wistful glance at the gleaming rifles displayed by Stone’smen. A point had been made. As well as being obligated to the army,Gayatero was forced to concede that the Ninth was now capable ofwinning a decisive victory over the warriors. Armed with thoserepeaters, how could they fail? And so, with great wisdom and muchreluctance, the old chief assured Stone of his continuedgoodwill.
In Bosworth, that afternoon, Captain RalphKerwin visited the office of the Lowell-Taft Freight Line.
“I want you to understand, Miss Lowell,” hetold Martha, “that
