Guided by the other
scouts, the whole command pricks briskly over to the concealment
of a rolling valley. There is but one ridge between it, now, and
Lagunitas.
Maxime calls up his aids. He gives them his rapid directions. Only
the previous knowledge of the ex-pathfinder enabled him to throw
his men behind the sheltering ridge, unseen from the old Don's
headquarters.
In case of meeting any robbers, the subordinates are to seize and
hold the ranch with ten determined men. He throws the rest out in
a strong line, to sweep east and south, till Love's column is met.
Winding into the glen, Valois takes five men and mounts the ridge.
He now skilfully nears the crest of the ridge. The main command
is moving slowly, a few hundred yards below. With the skill of
the old scout of the plains, he brings his little squad up to the
shoulder of the ridge to the south of the rancho. Dismounting,
Indian-like, he crawls up to the summit, from which the beautiful
panorama of glittering Lagunitas lies before him. By his side is
a tried friend. A life and death supporter.
Lagunitas again! It is backed by the forest, where swaying pines are
singing the same old song of seven long years ago. His eye sweeps
over the scene.
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