I called Mack’s attention to this fact as soon as the guard was reduced, and he needed no second hint to comprehend its full significance. He soon after dismounted, and when it came his turn to mount again, he selected, apparently by accident, the poorest and most broken-down horse of the party. After this he seemed to find it very difficult to keep up, and in some mysterious way he actually succeeded in laming his horse. He then dropped back to the Lieutenant in charge and modestly asked to exchange his lame horse for the pack-horse. He was particularly winning in his address, and his request was at once granted, without a suspicion of its object or a thought of the fatal carbines on the pack-saddle. I used some little skill in diverting the attention of the Lieutenant while the pack was readjusted; and as the rain had begun to fall freely, no one of the guard was particularly alert. I was presently gratified with the sight of Mack riding ahead on the pack-horse, with the two carbines still strapped to the saddle, but loosened, and well concealed by his heavy _poncho_, which he had spread as protection from the rain. These carbines were seven-shooters, loaded from the breech by simply drawing out from the hollow stock a spiral spring, and dropping in the seven cartridges, one after the other, and then inserting the spring again behind them, which coils as it is pressed home, and by its elasticity forces the cartridges forward, one at a time, into the barrel at the successive action of the lock. I could follow the movements of Mack’s right arm underneath the _poncho_. While he was guiding his horse with his left hand, looking the other way, and chatting glibly with the other boys, I distinctly saw him draw the springs from those carbines with his right hand and hook them into the upper button-hole of his coat to support them, while he dropped in the cartridges one after another, trotting his horse at the time to conceal the noise of their click, and finally forcing down the springs. Then the brave fellow glanced at me triumphantly. I nodded approval. Fearing that Mack might act too hastily, yet knowing that any instant might lead to discovery, I rode carelessly across the road to Brown, who was on foot, and, dismounting, asked him to tighten my girth. Then I told him the situation as quietly as possible, and requested him to ride up gradually beside Mack, to communicate with him, and, at a signal from me, to seize one of the carbines and do his duty as a soldier if he valued his liberty. Brown was terribly frightened and trembled like a leaf, but went immediately to his post, and I did not doubt would do his duty well. I rode up again to the side of Lieutenant Whiting, and like an echo from the past came back to me my words of yesterday, “Possibly my turn may come to-morrow.”