"That," objected the major, testily, "is ancient history. This trouble started the way of most of the troubles of this agewhiskey." In his agitation he carefully spilled a spoonful of salt on the cloth and scraped it into a little mound with a knife. Then recollecting that spilled salt causes quarrels, he hurriedly threw a pinch of it over his left shoulder. "Andand, the worst of the whole business is, old man, that you've got to go. Your troop and one from Apache are ordered out. I'm awfully sorry." He would not look at Felipa at all. But he stared Landor[Pg 57] fairly out of countenance, as he waited for a storm of tears and protestations."Is he hurt?" she shook him sharply.The man told him. "He'd been a private up to Stanton, and had been killed by some of Cochise's people that summer. Her mother was a half-breed by the name of Felipa. Good-looking squaw, but dead, tookilled by Mexicans. Do you happen to know whatever became of the kid?"
"True, too," Brewster admitted perforce."Certain, dead sure. It's a band of Apaches that went across the river. Why, half a dozen seen them."Im one! cried Sandy, his suspicions swept away. Number two is named Larry. Dick is a dependable third!There was a chuckle from the group, and a chorus to the effect that they would be eternally condemned, the truth of which was patent in their faces. "Leave the little codger be," some one suggested; "he ain't skeered worth a sour apple.""He's coming back from Tombstone with some money, ain't he?"Sandy, within sighting distance, cut into the wood to intersect the path of flight.
