Sunset Pass | Page 3

face.
[Illustration: HE DREW LITTLE NELL CLOSE TO HIM.]
"God guard you, baby," he murmured, as finally he set her down. "Adios, Ned, my lad," and he shook the little man heartily by the hand. "Good luck all! Now I must gallop to make up time." He turned quickly away and went "loping" down the trail, but his gauntlet was drawn across his eyes two or three times before he disappeared from view. Two white little faces gazed wistfully after him and then into each other's eyes. Irish Kate muttered a blessing on the gallant fellow's head. "Come on, Jim," said the captain, with darkening face, and presently the little train was again in motion, winding over the range that, once passed, brings them in view of Snow Lake with the gloomy, jagged rocks bounding the horizon far beyond. There is a deep cleft that one sees in that barrier just as he emerges from the pine woods along the ridge, and that distant cleft is Sunset Pass.
Though seldom traveled, the mountain road from Fort Verde over to Fort Wingate was almost always in fair condition. Rains were very few and did little damage, and so at a rapid, jingling trot the wagons lunged ahead while the captain and Pike, the retired trooper, rode easily alongside or made occasional scouts to the front.
Knowing that his children must have heard his talk with Sieber, the captain soon dropped back opposite the open window and thrust in his hand for the little ones to shake.
"You're not afraid to go ahead, Ned, my boy! I knew I could count on you," said he heartily. "And Nell can hardly be afraid with you and her old dragoon dad to guard her. Isn't it so, pet?"
And the wan little face smiled back to prove Nellie's confidence in father, while Ned stoutly answered:
"I'm never afraid to go anywhere you want me to go, father. And then I haven't had a chance to try my rifle yet."
The boy held up to view a dainty little Ballard target gun--a toy of a thing--but something of which he was evidently very proud.
"And then we've got good old Pike, papa--and Kate here--I'm sure she could fight," piped up little Nell, but there was no assent to this proposition from the lips of poor Kate. All along she had opposed the journey, and was filled with dread whenever it was spoken of. Vainly had she implored the officers and ladies at Prescott to prohibit the captain from making so rash an attempt. Nothing would avail. As ill-luck would have it the lieutenant colonel recently gazetted to the infantry regiment stationed in Northern Arizona had just come safely through from Wingate with exactly such an "outfit," but without such guards, and Captain Gwynne declared that what man had done man could do. There were plenty of people who would have taken her off the captain's hands, but nothing would induce the faithful creature to leave the motherless "childer." She loved them both--and if they were to go through danger she would go with them. All the same she stood sturdily out in her resentment toward the captain and would not answer now. Jim, too, on the driver's seat, was gloomily silent. Manuelito with the mules in rear had listened to Sieber's warning with undisguised dismay. Only Pike--ex-corporal of the captain's troop--rode unconcernedly ahead. What cared he for Apaches? He had fought them time and again.
Nevertheless when Captain Gwynne came cantering out to the front and joined his old non-commissioned officer, it was with some surprise that he listened to Pike's salutation.
"May I say a word to the captain?"
"Certainly, Pike; say on."
"I was watching Manuelito, sir, while the captain was talking with Sieber. Them greasers are a bad lot, sir--one and all. There isn't one of 'em I'd trust as far as I could sling a bull by the tail. That Manuelito is just stampeded by what he's heard, and while he dare not whirl about and go now, I warn the captain to have an eye on the mules to-night. He'll skip back for the Verde with only one of them rather than try Sunset Pass to-morrow."
"Why! confound it, Pike, that fellow has been in my service five years and never failed me yet."
"True enough, sir; but the captain never took him campaigning. They do very well around camp, sir, but they'd rather face the gates of purgatory than try their luck among the Tontos. I believe one Apache could lick a dozen of 'em."
The captain turned slowly back, and took a good look at the Mexican as he sat on his high spring seat, and occasionally encouraged his team with endearing epithets, or, as in the manner of the tribe, scored them with wildest blasphemy. Ordinarily Manuelito was wont to show his white