"Obey orders," said the doctor, smiling. "Bourne, will you get off at
once?"

"Yes," was the reply.

"And you, boys. I don't think any eyes can reach us, for we get no more
arrows now; but all the same, I would not show. Crawl down to the
bottom; you will be safe from all observation there, and you can rise
and walk as soon as you are past the first curve. Till we meet again."

"Till we meet again," said Bourne and Ned in a breath, and they began to
crawl down the far side of the gulch from where they had made their
defence.

"As for you, my boy," continued the doctor, "you will bring the ponies
down, following the mules, and coming to a halt at that spring by the
big needle-like stone. There's some browsing for them there."

"Am I to stay with them, father?" said Chris.

"Of course, my boy, to be ready for starting at a moment's notice."

"But if you have to fight again?"

"We three will do our best."

"But only three, father?"

"Only three, but three men fighting with a knowledge that if things go
against them they have ponies waiting for them, ready for a retreat.
Now, my boy. Duty. Be off. And mind, you'll take no notice of a few
shots."

Chris made no reply. His rifle was already slung, and after one glance
up the gulch towards the valley, without seeing a sign of the enemy, he
began to back down the slope, creeping and crawling till it was safe to
rise, and then hurrying after Bourne and Ned, overtaking them long
before they could reach the entrance to the steep slope of the gully.

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

A BIT OF BLUE SKY.

The task of getting the mules together was simple enough, the irritable
beasts making their usual objections, but following their old leader
Skeeter quietly enough in spite of the bell not being in use; and in a
short time they were trudging along with their loads down the steep
slope till the gulch was reached, and Chris came after them with the
ponies, to bring his charge to a halt.

"Like to change places, Ned?" he said archly.

"No; I'm going to do my part without that."

"Good-bye, Chris, my lad," said Bourne sadly. "I don't like going off
and leaving you."

"And I don't like you to go, Mr Bourne," said Chris, holding out his
hand, which was warmly grasped. "Take care of yourself, Ned."

"Yes; and you," said the boy sadly.

The next minute Chris was standing by his mustang's head, watching the
mules file away.

"Look at that," said Chris, as he