Spring, follerin' th' caravan, we come on his camp, an' it
war plumb covered with ridin' gear an' belongin's that none o' his brave
army had time ter collect proper. Some o' us that had ter burn our
saddles war ridin' bareback, but we got saddles thar. He must 'a' lit
out _pronto_ when he larned Texans war a-rampagin' along th' trail. From
th' signs he didn't even wait fer th' caravan he war goin' ter protect,
but jest went a-kiyotin' fer home."

"He knew th' difference between starved an' betrayed Texans, an' Texans
that war fixed ter fight," growled Tom. "Go on: what was th' mistake?"

"Wall, Warfield said that if we had made that vanguard surrender
peaceful, which they would 'a' done, we could 'a' captured every man,
kept th' news from Armijo, an' larned jest whar ter find him. He would
'a' been waitin' fer his scoutin' party, an' some mornin' about daylight
he would 'a' found a scoutin' party--from Texas, an' mad an' mean as
rattlers. It don't allus pay ter let yer tempers git th' best o' ye, an'
make ye jump afore ye look. We'd 'a' ruther got Armijo than th' whole
cussed advance guard, an' th' rest o' his army, too."

"With Salezar," muttered Tom.

Burch jumped. "Aye!" he snarled. "With Salezar! Fer them two I'd 'a'
been in favor o' lettin' all th' rest go!"

"What you boys goin' ter do now?" asked Hank.

"Fool 'round up hyar, dodgin' war-parties that air too big ter lick,"
answered Flint. "We been scoutin' up th' river, an' our friends air on a
scout back in th' hills, tryin' ter locate th' nearest Comanche village.
We cleaned out one on th' way up, back on th' Washita. We're aimin' ter
run a big buffaler hunt as soon as we locates th' hostiles."

"How many are there of you?" asked Tom, thoughtfully.

"'Bout a dozen or fifteen: why?" asked Burch.

"Not a very big party to be playin' tag with th' Comanches in thar own
country," Tom replied.

With his foot Burch pushed a stick back into the fire and then glanced
around the little circle. "Wonder what th' _white_ men o' this wagon
train would do if we rode up an' asked fer th' greasers in it ter be
turned over ter us?" he asked.

Tom smiled. "Fight as long as we could pull trigger," he answered. "We
ain't betrayin' no members o' th' caravan. Lord knows we don't like
greasers, an' we _do_ feel strong for Texas; but we'd be plain skunks if
we didn't stick with our feller travelers."

"An' what could we say when we got inter Santer Fe, if we dared go
thar?