A low hill shut off from their view all but the head of the
cut, and it also hid them from the sight of any possible enemy
which might have been lurking in wait for them farther down
the arroyo.
At Miguel's words Byrne wheeled his horse to the right
away from the trail which led through the bottom of the waterway
and around the base of the hill, or rather in that direction,
for he had scarce deviated from the direct way before one
of the troopers spurred to his side, calling out in Spanish
that he was upon the wrong trail.
"Wot's this guy chewin' about?" asked Billy, turning to
Miguel.
"He says you must keep to the arroyo, Senor Capitan,"
explained the Mexican.
"Tell him to go back into his stall," was Byrne's laconic
rejoinder, as he pushed his mount forward to pass the brigand.
The soldier was voluble in his objections. Again he reined
in front of Billy, and by this time his five fellows had spurred
forward to block the way.
"This is the wrong trail," they cried. "Come this other way,
Capitan. Pesita has so ordered it."
Catching the drift of their remarks, Billy waved them to one
side.
"I'm bossin' this picnic," he announced. "Get out o' the
way, an' be quick about it if you don't want to be hurted.
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