"Isn't there--isn't there some way to summon aid?" asked one of the
passengers, with blanched cheeks.

"I don't see how," replied Buck; "it would be jest plain suicide fer one
of us to make a break now. Besides, it's twenty miles to the nearest
town, and the Injuns'll be on us long before anybody could get to town
and bring back help, even supposin' the Injuns didn't pot him before he
got fairly started. O' course, we couldn't do anythin' before dark,
nohow."

"Don't you think they'll attack before that?" asked Dick.

"No, I don't," replied the driver; "they'll want to surround us first,
an' they won't start to do that until after dark, 'cordin' to my way o'
thinkin'. What do you say, Sam?"

"Them's my sentiments exactly," answered that individual. "There ain't a
chance in the world o' their doin' anythin' before that."

As the opinions of these two veterans coincided the matter was regarded
as settled, and the boys commenced overhauling their pistols to make sure
they were in perfect shape.

There was no further movement on the part of their besiegers, but Buck
and Sam knew full well that the Indians were far from giving up their
attack. To them the respite was more ominous than an active sally, for
they knew that the braves were hatching some scheme for their
destruction.