There was also the rattle of arms, as if they were preparing to meet an enemy.
Jimmie crept out of his blankets and crawled to the opening of the little tent.

The guards were crouching low in the shadow of a rock, with their guns in hand, and the boy joined them.
"I thought you were asleep, kid," one of the men whispered.

"Better go back to your tent.

There may be shooting here." "I didn't come down here to skulk," replied the boy, indignantly.

"Are the stragglers coming here again ?" "There is some one moving about," was the reply.
"Perhaps it is Fremont, coming back," suggested Jimmie, hoping with all his heart that he had solved the riddle.
"If Fremont ever gets back here," the other guard observed, "we will have to bring him back.