so serious as now. Darry also received an affectionate farewell.
In absolute silence old Benson led his little party to a far corner of the stockade, where there was a small gate, fastened with a strong leg bar. This gate was opened just far enough for them to slip through, and then closed again. Their mission had begun. There was no telling how it would end.
Slipping into the ditch, the old scout told the others to lie low, while he and Bernstein surveyed the situation. It was silent, and from overhead only a few stars twinkled down upon them.
Old Benson presently pointed with his bony hand.
"Clear that way, aint it?" he whispered.
"Looks so," answered Bernstein, after a searching look lasting several minutes, "I wouldn't go too close to that patch of underbrush, though."
The party began crawling along the ditch, until they came to a little gully which the last heavy rains had formed. Here they progressed on hands and knees until they reached some low brushwood. Then old Benson, still crouching close to the ground, set off on a lope, and the others came after him in Indian file.
If they had been discovered, neither Indians nor desperadoes gave any sign, and inside of ten
