"
They both peered through the darkness and Donald quickly
perceived that Adrian was right.
Then as by one impulse they drew a few steps nearer.
In the dim starlight they were able to make out the figures of
several men.
"Do you think they are soldiers?" whispered Don.
Adrian shook his head.
"Camp followers. Thieves," he whispered.
Donald nodded his head in acquiescence.
The boys lay down upon the ground and put their heads together.
"It wouldn't be any trick at all," whispered Donald, "if it were
not for the pickets. But any noise will bring down upon us a
couple of hundred men. Maybe more. We have simply got to dispose
of that outfit without noise. But how?"
"Bad job," was Adrian's only reply.
"If the horses were only our Wyoming cow ponies, they'd come at
our call."
"But they're not," replied Adrian.
For several minutes neither spoke, but lay silently watching the
movements of the men about the horses.
"How many can you make out, Ad?"
"Five."
"I don't see but four."
Adrian pointed to the left, about ten or twelve feet, to one who
stood alone.
"What's he doing there?"
"Give it up." Then a moment later: "I have it!"
"Well, what is it?"
"He's watching for us to return.
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