Three hours before dawn Hank awoke and without moving his body let his eyes rove over the dark pasture. Then like a flash of light his heavy pistol jammed into the dark blotch almost at his side, and he growled a throaty inquiry.
"It's me, Hank," came the soft reply. "Take that damned thing away! What's up?"
Three other pairs of eyes were turned on them and then their owners stirred a little and grunted salutations, and made slight rustlings as their hands replaced what they had held.
"Nothin', only a courtin' party," chuckled Hank.
"Wall, I've heard tell o' courtin' parties," ruminated Turley; "but never one made up like Injuns and armed to th' teeth. Might know some damned fool thing war afoot when yer mixed up in it. Who ye courtin', at yer time o' life? Somebody's wife?"
"We're aimin' fer Santer Fe," said Hank. "Got ter have help ter git thar th' way we wants. Them Texans has made it hard fer us, a-stirrin' up everythin' like they has."
"Whar'd ye git yer hosses?" anxiously demanded Turley.
"Inderpendence, Missoury," innocently answered Hank, his grin lost in the darkness.
"Then ye come over th' wagon trail, an' up th' Arkansas?"
"Over th' wagon trail an' up th' Cimarron, with th' second caravan o' traders. Come nigh straight acrost from Cold Spring."
"Wall, I'll be damned!" muttered Turley. Then he snorted. "Ain't ye got no sense, ye Root Digger? Everybody in th' train'll know them hosses!"
"We swapped 'em at Bent's rancho on th' Vermajo--good gosh! Two o' 'em come from them Texans!"
"They didn't have no brands," said Tom. "I heard 'em say somethin' about gettin' some at Bent's. We got ter risk it, anyhow. It'll be like addin' a spoonful o' freight ter a wagon load."
Hank's mind was running in a groove that he had been gouging deeper and longer hour after hour and he refused to be sidetracked by any question concerning the horses they had changed. "We want ter swap hosses ag'in an' borry some rags fer clothes; an' before daylight, too."
Tom arose on one elbow. "That's all right, fur's it goes; only it don't go no-whar," he declared. "We want ter git rid o' these hosses, an' we want th' clothes; but that ain't all. We want a job, Turley. Need any mule wranglers ter take some freight inter Santer Fe?"