The scout followed with a lengthy description of the valley and the spring where the horses had been left. Before he had fairly finished, Doyle cut him short. “Why, man,” cried the lieutenant, “you’re telling me about Pool Spring Valley, our next port of call.” “I had an idea to that effect,” went on Buffalo Bill. “Well, lieutenant, that is where our mounts were left. I’m hoping they’re there now. If you can manage to give us a lift that far, perhaps we’ll have horses of our own during our hunt for Cayuse.” “We can fix that, all right.” Doyle gave orders which caused two of the troopers to double up on one horse. “There, Miss Dauntless,” said Doyle, “you’re to have that animal all to yourself. Cody and Nomad will double with any two troopers they select. Give ’em the saddles, boys,” Doyle added to his men. With three horses carrying double burdens, and with Dell riding alone, the detachment presently took its way out of the pass. The scout, and the man at his saddle-cantle, rode stirrup to stirrup with the lieutenant. While the latter pointed the way, and all eyes watched sharply for hostiles, the shortest cut to Pool Spring Valley was pursued, and talking went on apace. Buffalo Bill had things to say that opened Doyle’s eyes, and were passed back and forth among the troopers with deep interest and curiosity. Everything that had happened to the scout and the girl, from the time they left Bonita to go to Tonio Pass, was gone over carefully. The drugging of the spring, naturally, was the point that claimed most attention. “That was Geronimo’s work, all right,” averred Doyle. “He’s a foxy old red, and whenever he plays a card it’s usually a trump.” “How did he know we were going to stop at Pool Spring Valley?” queried the scout. “He didn’t.” “Then why did he tamper with the water in the pool?” “That wasn’t for your benefit, Cody, if I’ve got this thing right. As I said, a little while back, a few of the reds have broken away from Geronimo, and I’ll bet the old rascal was properly mad when they did it. The mutineers were to rendezvous in Pool Spring Valley. What more natural, then, than that Geronimo should send a trusty warrior with a bag of dope to fix Pool Spring before the mutineers got there? Say, I’ll gamble my pile that’s exactly what old Geronimo did. It sounds just like him. I’m only making a guess, but I flatter myself it’s next door to the truth.” “Waugh!” spoke up the trapper. “I’ll bet et’s ther truth. Them reds we seen, Buffler--the two thet was coyotin’ along ther trail, an’ thet other lot thet was tossin’ away their arms--must er been the mutineers. They was all locoed.”