direction these have taken. Though
Simeon Woodley, with his party, is now a good distance off, it would
still be possible to overtake them, the robbers being well mounted and
better knowing the way. Woe to Helen and Jessie Armstrong were the moon
shining, as when they parted from that spot!

Neither Borlasse nor his confederate have a thought that any one has
been under the oak, save Quantrell, Bosley, and the captives. How could
they? And now they think not that these have been there; for, calling
their names aloud, they get no response. Little do the two freebooters
dream of the series of exciting incidents that in quick succession, and
so recently, have occurred in that now silent spot. They have no
suspicion of aught, save that Bosley has betrayed his trust, Phil
Quantrell instigating him, and that both have forsaken the band, taking
the captives along.

At thought of their treachery Borlasse's fury goes beyond bounds, and he
stamps and storms.

To restrain him, Chisholm says, suggestingly, "Like as not, Cap',
they're gone on to head-quarters. I guess, when we get there we'll find
the whole four."

"You think so?"

"I'm good as sure of it. What else could they do, or would they?
Quantrell darn't go back to the States, with that thing you spoke of
hangin' over him. Nor is he like to show himself in any o' the
settlements of Texas. And what could the two do by themselves out on
the wild prairie?"

"True; I reckon you're about right, Luke. In any case we musn't waste
more time here. It's getting well on to morning and by the earliest
glint of day the settlers 'll take trail after us. We must on to the
upper plain."

At this he heads his horse back into the narrow trail; and, hurrying
along it, rejoins his followers by the ford.

Soon as reaching them, he gives the command for immediate march;
promptly obeyed, since every robber in the ruck has pleasant
anticipation of what is before, with ugly recollection of what is, and
fears of what may be, behind him.

CHAPTER SIXTY SIX.

A SCOUTING PARTY.

Throughout all this time, the scene of wild terror, and frenzied
excitement, continues to rage around the Mission. Its walls, while
echoing voices of lamentation, reverberate also the shouts of revenge.

It is some time ere the colonists can realise the full extent of the
catastrophe, or be sure it is at an end. The gentlemen, who dined with
Colonel Armstrong, rushing back to their own homes i