It was not in the water this time, but close to it that the suspicious object now showed itself. It looked as if the first one having effected a landing at a point down stream was stealing up again, with a view of approaching camp. To do this, it kept on the very margin of the current, where the slight depression of the sandy bank afforded a trifling protection, though not enough wholly to conceal it. “It’s one of them, dead sure,” muttered the trooper, making ready to give him a proper reception; “he can’t do any mischief until he comes nearer, and if I don’t let the moonlight shine through his noddle it will be because I’ve forgotten how to fire a gun.” But after all the chance for a test of his marksmanship was denied the man who was so anxious to pick off the miscreant. While carefully watching and waiting until he could make his aim sure, the object, whatever it was, vanished, nor did it appear again. The soldier could not know of a certainty the explanation of this curious occurrence and asked the opinion of Mendez the following morning. That sagacious scout listened attentively to the story and said in his abrupt way: “Him ’Pache.” But the few hours remaining of night passed without further alarm, and men and animals secured a much needed and refreshing rest. Dawn came at last and all felt that the day was to prove a decisive one. CHAPTER XV. AN INTERRUPTED FLIGHT. The troopers wasted no time. No coffee was boiled, for the means of kindling a fire was not at command. He who has been on a laborious march knows the meaning of such a deprivation. Rations were hastily eaten and the horses drank from the stream at hand and continued their fasting. The body of the fallen scout was secured on the back of his steed, which accompanied the scouting party when it headed westward. The time for serious work had come. The Apaches could not ambush this daring band of campaigners, riding hard through the open country, with their eyes alert for every form of danger. With no deviation the cavalrymen galloped to the spot where Mendez had located their enemies the previous night, but long before reaching the place it was seen that the raiders were gone. But whither? That was the question on every tongue. “I have a misgiving,” said Maurice Freeman to Lieutenant Decker, “that when Geronimo learned we were here, he made a detour and has passed over into the valley after all.” “I sympathize with you, captain, for you cannot help feeling anxious about your family, but none of the boys believe the thing probable.” “Of course they would not make the raid with the idea of coming back this way, but they could turn southward toward the Apache Mountains and escape.” “Not without giving us a chance, which they don’t mean to give,” was the remark of the young officer, uttered with such confidence that it lessened the uneasiness of the ranchman.