When they returned to the living-room after performing their work, they found the major standing erect and holding his boys clasped in his arms. Rough men that they were, they were touched by the sight. They remained respectfully apart, watching the happy group and listening to their conversation, now and then glancing at one another, and drawing their hands hastily across their eyes; but when they went up to greet the major they were the every-day Silas and Romez, as calm and indifferent, apparently, as they had been a few moments before while dealing with the horse-thieves.
Romez took off his sombrero, and said, “How do!” in his imperfect English, while Silas gave the major a military salute, and informed him that he was powerful glad to feel his grip once more. The emotion was all exhibited by the rescued man, who clung to the faithful fellows who had labored so long and perseveringly for his release as if he never wanted to let them go again.
The major’s unexpected restoration to his family and to liberty had a wonderful effect upon him. His buoyancy of spirits, his strength and energy, returned at once; and during the ride homeward, he led the way at such a rate of speed that continued conversation was quite out of the question. He rode the bay horse which Julian had brought from Smirker’s cabin, and which the boy regarded as his own special charge. He knew where the animal came from, and he hoped at no distant day to be able to restore him to his rightful owner.
After crossing the valley the party made a wide circuit through the mountains on the opposite side, arriving just at daylight in front of a small cabin. The door was forced without ceremony, and one of the two men who were surprised in their beds was secured before he was fairly awake. The new prisoner was Richard Cordova, and his companion, who armed himself and joined the major’s party, was Ithuriel, his servant. In a little less than five hours Silas and his three companions had ridden more than fifty miles over rough mountain roads, captured eight desperate fellows, and that, too, without having once been called upon to use any weapon more formidable than the ax, with which White-horse Fred had cut down the door of his father’s prison. When Julian thought of it, he told himself that the trapper was indeed a man of action.