[Illustration: "I'll hit any trail with you--barring Mexican politics. "[Page 19]] THE TREASURE TRAIL A ROMANCE OF THE LAND OF GOLD AND SUNSHINE By MARAH ELLIS RYAN Illustrated by Robert Amick Publishers Chicago A. C. McCLURG & CO. 1918 Copyright A. C. McCLURG & CO. 1918 Published November, 1918 Copyrighted in Great Britain To Kalatoka of the brown tent CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I KIT AND THE GIRL OF THE LARK CALL 1 II THE RED GOLD LEGEND 15 III A VERIFIED PROPHECY OF SEŅORITA BILLIE 54 IV IN THE ADOBE OF PEDRO VIJIL 66 V AN "ADIOS"--AND AFTER 73 VI A DEAD MAN UNDER THE COTTONWOODS 90 VII IN THE PROVINCE OF ALTAR 107 VIII THE SLAVE TRAIL 124 IX A MEETING AT YAQUI WELL 133 X A MEXICAN EAGLET 144 XI GLOOM OF BILLIE 161 XII COVERING THE TRAIL 167 XIII A WOMAN OF EMERALD EYES 186 XIV THE HAWK OF THE SIERRAS 217 XV THE "JUDAS" PRAYER AT MESA BLANCA 230 XVI THE SECRET OF SOLEDAD CHAPEL 256 XVII THE STORY OF DOŅA JOCASTA 288 XVIII RAMON ROTIL DECIDES 300 XIX THE RETURN OF TULA 328 XX EAGLE AND SERPENT 346 XXI EACH TO HIS OWN 360 ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE "I'll hit any trail with you--barring Mexican politics. " _Frontispiece_ "You poor kid, you have a hard time with the disreputables you pick up. " 76 "No, Ramon! No!" she cried, and flung herself between him and his victims. 280 The Indian girl was steadily gaining on the German. 356 THE TREASURE TRAIL CHAPTER I KIT AND THE GIRL OF THE LARK CALL In the shade of Pedro Vijil's little brown adobe on the Granadosrancho, a horseman squatted to repair a broken cinch with strips ofrawhide, while his horse--a strong dappled roan with a smuttyface--stood near, the rawhide bridle over his head and the quirttrailing the ground. The horseman's frame of mind was evidently not of the sweetest, for toVijil he had expressed himself in forcible Mexican--which is supposedto be Spanish and often isn't--condemning the luck by which the cinchhad gone bad at the wrong time, and as he tinkered he sang softly anold southern ditty: _Oh--oh! I'm a good old rebel, Now that's just what I am! For I won't be reconstructed And I don't care a damn!_ He varied this musical gem occasionally by whistling the air as hepunched holes and wove the rawhide thongs in and out through thespliced leather. Once he halted in the midst of a strain and lifted his head, listening. Something like an echo of his own notes sounded very close, a mere shadow of a whistle. Directly over his head was a window, unglazed and wooden barred. A fatbrown olla, dripping moisture, almost filled the deep window sill, butthe interior was all in shadow. Its one door was closed. The Vijilfamily was scattered around in the open, most of them under the_ramada_, and after a frowning moment of mystification the youngfellow resumed his task, but in silence. Then, after a still minute, more than the whisper of a whistle came tohim--the subdued sweet call of a meadow lark. It was so sweet it mighthave been mate to any he had heard on the range that morning. Only an instant he hesitated, then with equal care he gave theduplicate call, and held his breath to listen--not a sound came back. "We've gone loco, Pardner, " he observed to the smutty-faced roanmoving near him. "That jolt from the bay outlaw this morning hasjingled my brain pans--we don't hear birds call us--we only think wedo. " If he had even looked at Pardner he might have been given a sign, forthe roan had lifted its head and was staring into the shadows back ofthe sweating olla. "Hi, you caballero!" The words were too clear to be mistaken, the "caballero" stared acrossto the only people in sight. There was Pedro Vijil sharpening an axe, while Merced, his wife, turned the creaking grindstone for him. Theyoung olive branches of the Vijil family were having fun with a hornedtoad under the _ramada_ where gourd vines twisted about an ancientgrape, and red peppers hung in a gorgeous splash of color. Betweenthat and the blue haze of the far mountains there was no sign ofhumanity to account for such cheery youthful Americanism as the tonesuggested. "Hi, yourself!" he retorted, "whose ghost are you?" There was a giggle from the barred window of the adobe. "I don't dare say because I am not respectable just now, " replied thevoice. "I fell in the ditch and have nothing on but the Sunday shirtof Pedro. I am the funniest looking thing! wish I dared ride home init to shock them all silly. " "Why not?" he asked, and again the girlish laugh gave him an oddthrill of comradeship. "A good enough reason; they'd take Pat from me, and say he wasn't safeto ride--but he is! My tumble was my own fault for letting them put onthat fool English saddle. Never again for me!" "They are all right for old folks and a pacing pony, " he observed, andagain he heard the bubbling laugh. "Well, Pat is not a pacing pony, not by a long shot; and I'm notold folks--yet!" Then after a little silence, "Haven't you anycuriosity?" "I reckon there's none allowed me on this count, " he replied withoutlifting his head, "between the wooden bars and Pedro's shirt youcertainly put the fences up on me. " "I'm a damsel in distress waiting for a rescuing knight with a whitebanner and a milk-white steed--" went on the laughing voice in stilteddeclamation. "Sorry, friend, but my cayuse is a roan, and I never carried a whiteflag yet. You pick the wrong colors. " Whereupon he began the chanting of a war song, with an eye stealthilyon the barred window. _Hurrah! Hurrah! For southern rights, hurrah! Hurrah for the bonnie blue flag That bears the single star!_ "Oh! _I_ know that!" the voice was now a hail of recognition. "CapPike always sings that when he's a little 'how-came-ye-so'--and_you're_ a Johnny Reb!" "Um! twice removed, " assented the man by the wall, "and you are araiding Yank who has been landed in one of our fortresses with onlyone shirt to her back, and that one borrowed. " He had a momentary vision of two laughing gray eyes beside the olla, and the girl behind the bars laughed until Merced let the grindstonehalt while she cast a glance towards the house as if in doubt as towhether three feet of adobe wall and stout bars could serve instead ofa dueņa to foolish young Americans who chattered according to theirfoolishness. There was an interval of silence, and then the girlish voice calledagain. "Hi, Johnny Reb!" "Same to you, Miss Yank. " "Aren't you the new Americano from California, for the La Partidarancho?" "Even so, O wise one of the borrowed garment. " The laugh came to himagain. "Why don't you ask how I know?" she demanded. "It is borne in upon me that you are a witch of the desert, or theghost of a dream, that you see through the adobe wall, and my equallythick skull. Far be it for me to doubt that the gift of second sightis yours, O seventh daughter of a seventh daughter!" "No such thing! I'm the only one!" came the quick retort, and theyoung chap in the shade of the adobe shook with silent mirth. "I see you laughing, Mr. Johnny Reb, you think you caught me thattime. But you just halt and listen to me, I've a hunch and I'm goingto prophesy. " "I knew you had the gift of second sight!" "Maybe you won't believe me, but the hunch is that you--won't--hold--thejob on these ranches!" "What!" and he turned square around facing the window, then laughed. "That's the way you mean to get even for the 'seventh daughter' guessis it? You think I can't handle horses?" "Nix, " was the inelegant reply, "I know you can, for I saw you handlethat bay outlaw they ran in on you this morning: seven years old andno wrangler in Pima could ride him. Old Cap Pike said it was a damnshame to put you up against that sun-fisher as an introduction toGranados. " "Oh! Pike did, did he? Nice and sympathetic of Pike. I reckon he's theold-time ranger I heard about out at the Junction, reading a red-fireriot to some native sons who were not keen for the cactus trail of theVillistas. That old captain must be a live wire, but he thinks I can'tstick?" "No-o, that wasn't Cap Pike, that was my own hunch. Say, are youmarried?" "O seņorita! this is so sudden!" he spoke in shy reproof, twisting hisneckerchief in mock embarrassment, and again Merced looked toward thehouse because of peals of laughter there. "You are certainly funny when you do that, " she said after herlaughter had quieted down to giggles, "but I wasn't joking, honestIndian I wasn't! But how did you come to strike Granados?" "Me? Well, I ranged over from California to sell a patch of ground Iowned in Yuma. Then I hiked over to Nogales on a little _pasear_ andoffered to pack a gun and wear a uniform for this Mexican squabble, and the powers that be turned me down because one of my eyes could seefarther than the other--that's no joke--it's a calamity! I spent allthe _dinero_ I had recovering from the shock, and about the time I wasgetting my sympathetic friends sobered up, Singleton, of Granados, sawus trying out some raw cavalry stock, and bid for my valuable servicesand I rode over. Any other little detail you'd like to know?" "N-no, only needed to know it wasn't Conrad the manager hired you, andI asked if you were married because married men need the work morethan single strays. Adolf Conrad got rid of two good American menlately, and fetches over Mexicans from away down Hermosillo way. " "'Cause why?" asked the man who had ceased pretense of mending thesaddle, and was standing with back against the adobe. "'Cause I don't know, " came petulant response. "I only had the hunchwhen I saw you tame that outlaw in the corral. If he pulls wires tolose _you_, I'll stop guessing; I'll know!" "Very interesting, seņorita, " agreed the stranger reflectively. "Butif I have a good job, I can't see how it will give me aid or comfortto know that you've acquired knowledge, and stopped guessing. When'syour time up behind the bars?" "Whenever my clothes get dry enough to fool the dear home folks. " "You must be a joy to the bosom of your family, " he observed, "also ablessing. " He heard again the girlish laughter and concluded she could not beover sixteen. There was silence for a space while only the creak ofthe grindstone cut the stillness. Whoever she was, she had given him abrief illuminating vision of the tactics of Conrad, the manager forthe ranches of Granados and La Partida, the latter being the Sonoraend of the old Spanish land grant. Even a girl had noted that therough work had been turned over to a new American from the firstcircle of the _rodeo_. He stood there staring out across the sagegreen to the far purple hills of the Green Springs range. "You've fixed that cinch, what you waiting for?" asked the voice atlast, and the young fellow straightened up and lifted the saddle. "That's so, " he acknowledged. "But as you whistled to me and the callseemed friendly, it was up to me to halt for orders--from the lady indistress. " Again he heard the soft laughter and the voice. "Glad you liked the friendly call, Johnny Reb, " she confessed. "That'smy call. If ever you hear it where there are no larks, you'll know whoit is. " "Sure, " he agreed, yanking at the cinch, "and I'll come a lopin' withthe bonnie blue flag, to give aid and succor to the enemy. " "You will not!" she retorted. "You'll just whistle back friendly, andbe chums. I think my clothes are dry now, and you'd better travel. Ifyou meet anyone looking for a stray maverick, you haven't seen me. " "Just as you say. _Adios!_" After he had mounted and passed along the corral to the road, heturned in the saddle and looked back. He could see no one in thewindow of the bars, but there came to him clear and sweet the fieldbugle of the meadow lark. He answered it, lifted his sombrero and rode soberly towards theGranados corrals, three miles across the valley. Queer little trickshe must be. American girls did not usually ride abroad alone alongthe border, and certainly did not chum with the Mexicans to the extentof borrowing shirts. Then as he lifted the bridle and Pardner brokeinto a lope, he noted an elderly horseman jogging along across trailon a little mule. Each eyed the other appraisingly. "Hello, Bub!" hailed the older man. "My name's Pike, and you're thenew man from California, hey? Glad to meet you. Hear your name'sRhodes. " "I reckon you heard right, " agreed the young chap. "K. Rhodes at yourservice, sir. " "Hello! K? K? Does that K stand for Kit?" "Center shot for you, " assented the other. "From Tennessee?" "Now you're a sort of family historian, I reckon, Mr. Pike, " suggestedK. Rhodes. "What's the excitement?" "Why you young plantation stray!" and the older man reached for hishand and made use of it pump-handle fashion with a sort of sputteringglee. "Great guns, boy! there was just one K. Rhodes a-top of God'sgreen earth and we were pardners here in Crook's day. Hurrah for us!Are you cousin, son, or nephew?" "My grandfather was with Crook. " "Sure! I knew it soon as I laid eyes on you and heard your name; thatwas in the corral with the outlaw Conrad had driven in for you towork, it wa'n't a square deal to a white man. I was cussin' mad. " "So I heard, " and the blue eyes of the other smiled at the memory ofthe girl's glib repetition of his discourse. "What's the great idea?Aside from the fact that he belongs to the white dove, anti-militarybunch of sisters, Singleton seems quite white, a nice chap. " "Yeh, but he's noways wise at that. He sort of married into the horsegame here, wasn't bred to it. Just knows enough to not try to run itsolo. Now this Dolf Conrad does know horses and the horse market, andGranados rancho. He's shipped more cavalry stock to France than anyother outfit in this region. Yes, Conrad knows the business end of thegame, but even at that he might not assay as high grade ore. He ismixed up with them too-proud-to-fight clique organized by old maids ofboth sexes, and to show that he is above all prejudice, political orotherwise, he sure is corraling an extra lot of Mex help this year. I've _companeros_ I'd go through hell for, but Conrad's breed--well, enough said, Bub, but they're different!" Mr. Pike bit off a chew ofblack plug, and shook his head ruminatively. Rhodes looked the old man over as they rode along side by side. He waslean, wiry and probably sixty-five. His hair, worn long, gave him thelook of the old-time ranger. He carried no _reata_ and did not looklike a ranchman. He had the southern intonation, and his eyes werewonderfully young for the almost snowy hair. "Belong in the valley, Captain?" "Belong? Me belong anywhere? Not yet, son, " and he smiled at his ownfancy. "Not but what it's a good enough corner when a man reaches thesettlin' down age. I drift back every so often. This ranch was FredBernard's, and him and me flocked together for quite a spell. Singleton married Bernard's widow--she's dead now these seven years. Ijust drift back every so often to keep track of Bernard's kid, Billie. " "I see. Glad to have met you, Captain. Hope we can ride together oftenenough for me to hear about the old Apache days. This land has fetchedout three generations of us, so it surely has some pull! My fathercame at the end of his race, but I've come in time to grow up with thecountry. " Captain Pike looked at him and chuckled. K. Rhodes was abouttwenty-three, tall, almost boyish in figure, but his shoulders andhands suggested strength, and his mouth had little dents of humor atthe corners to mitigate the squareness of jaw and the heavy darkbrows. His black lashes made the deep blue of his eyes look purple. Young he was, but with a stature and self-reliant manner as witnessof the fact that he was fairly grown up already. "Where'd you learn horses, Bub?" "Tennessee stock farm, and southern California ranges. Then this neckof the woods seemed calling me, and I trailed over to look after a bitof land in Yuma. I wasted some time trying to break into the army, butthey found some eye defect that I don't know anything about--and don'tmore than half believe! I had some dandy prospecting plans after that, but there was no jingling in my pockets--no outfit money, so I hailedSingleton as an angel monoplaned down with the ducats. Yes sir, I hadall the dream survey made for a try at some gold trails down here, going to take it up where the rest of the family quit. " "You mean that, boy?" The old man halted his mule, and spat out thetobacco, staring at Rhodes in eager anticipation. "I sure do. Reckon I've inherited the fever, and can't settle down toany other thing until I've had one try at it. Did do a little placerworking in the San Jacinto. " "And you're broke?" Mr. Pike's voice betrayed a keen joy in theprospect. "Flat, " stated K. Rhodes, eyeing the old gentleman suspiciously, "myhorse, saddle, field glass, and gun are the only belongings insight. " "Ki-yi!" chirruped his new acquaintance gleefully, "I knew when I gotout of the blankets this morning I was to have good luck of some sort, had a 'hunch. ' You can bet on me, Bub; you've struck the right rail, and I'm your friend, your desert _companero_!" "Yes, you sound real nice and friendly, " agreed K. Rhodes. "So gladI'm flat broke that you're having hysterics over it. Typical southernhospitality. Hearty welcome to our city, and so forth, and so forth!" The old man grinned at him appreciatively. "Lord boy!--I reckon I'vebeen waiting around for you about ten year, though I didn't know whatyour name would be when you come, and it couldn't be a better one!We'll outfit first for the Three Hills of Gold in the desert, and ifluck is against us there we'll strike down into Sonora to have a tryafter the red gold of El Alisal. I've covered some of that ground, butnever had a pardner who would stick. They'd beat it because of eitherthe Mexicans or the Indians, but _you_--say boy! It's the greatestgame in the world and we'll go to it!" His young eyes sparkled in his weathered desert face, and more thanten years were cast aside in his enthusiasm. K. Rhodes looked at himaskance. "If I did not have a key to your sane and calm outlining of prospectsfor the future, I might suspect loco weed or some other dope, " heobserved. "But the fact is you must have known that my grandfather inhis day went on the trail of the Three Hills of Gold, and left about adozen different plans on paper for future trips. " "Know it? Why boy, I went in with him!" shrilled Captain Pike. "Knowit? Why, we crawled out half starved, and dried out as a couple oflast year's gourds. We dug roots and were chewing our own boot topswhen the Indians found us. Sure, I know it. He went East to raisemoney for a bigger outfit, but never got back--died there. " "Yes, then my father gathered up all the plans and specifications andcame out with a friend about fifteen years ago, " added Rhodes. "Theynever got anywhere, but he sort of worked the fever off, bought someland and hit the trail back home. So I've been fairly well fed up onyour sort of dope, Captain, and when I've mended that gone feeling inmy pocketbook I may 'call' you on the gold trail proposition. Even ifyou're bluffing there'll be no come back; I can listen to a lot of'lost mine' vagaries. It sounds like home sweet home to me!" "Bluff nothing! we'll start next week. " "No we won't, I've got a job and made a promise, got to help clean upthe work here for the winter. Promised to take the next load of horsesEast. " "That's a new one, " observed his new friend. "Conrad himself hasalways gone East with the horses, or sent Brehmen, his secretary. Butnever mind, Bub, the eastern trip won't take long. I'll be devilin'around getting our outfit and when the chance comes--us for the ThreeHills of Gold!" "It listens well, " agreed K. Rhodes, "cheeriest little _pasear_ I'vestruck in the county. We'll have some great old powwows, even if wedon't make a cent, and some day you'll tell me about the mental kinksin the makeup of our Prussian friend, Conrad. He sounds interesting tome. " Captain Pike uttered a profane and lurid word or two concerning Mr. Conrad, and stated he'd be glad when Billie was of age. Singleton, andtherefore Conrad, would only have the management up to that time. Billie would know horses if nothing else, and--Then he interruptedhimself and stared back the way he had come. "I'm a forgetful old fool!" he stated with conviction. "I meanderedout to take a look around for her, and I didn't like the looks of thatlittle dab of a saddle Conrad had put on Pat. You didn't see anythingof her, did you?" "What does she look like?" "A slip of a girl who rides like an Indian, rides a black horse. " "No, I've seen no one, " said the young chap truthfully enough. "Butwho did you say your girl was?" "You'll find out if you hold your job long enough for her to be ofage, " said Pike darkly. "She'll be your boss instead of Conrad. It'sBillie Bernard, the owner of Granados and La Partida. " "Billie?" "Miss Wilfreda, if you like it better. " But K. Rhodes said he didn't. Billie seemed to fit the sort of girlwho would garb herself in Pedro's shirt and whistle at him through thebars of the little window. CHAPTER II THE RED GOLD LEGEND It took less than a week for Kit Rhodes to conclude that the girlbehind the bars had a true inspiration regarding his own position onher ranches. There was no open hostility to him, yet it was evidentthat difficulties were cleverly put in his way. Not by Philip Singleton, the colorless, kindly disposed gentleman ofPike's description. But by various intangible methods, he was made tofeel an outsider by the manager, Conrad, and his more confidentialMexican assistants. They were punctiliously polite, too polite for ahorse-ranch outfit. Yet again and again a group of them fell silentwhen he joined them, and as his work was with the horse herds of LaPartida, that part of the great grant which spread over the borderinto Sonora, he was often camped fifty miles south of the hacienda ofGranados, and saw no more of either the old prospector, or thetantalizing girl of the voice and the whistle. Conrad, however, motored down two or three times concerning horses foreastern shipment, but Rhodes, the new range capitan, puzzledconsiderably over those flying visits, for, after the long drivethrough sand and alkali, the attention he gave either herds or outfitwas negligible. In fact he scarcely touched at the camp, yet alwaysdid some trifling official act coming or going to make record that hehad been there. The Mexicans called him El Aoura, the buzzard, because no man couldtell when he would swoop over even the farthest range of La Partida tocatch them napping. Yet there was some sort of curious bond betweenthem for there were times when Conrad came north as from a longsouthern trail, yet the Mexicans were as dumb men if it was referredto. He was a compactly built, fair man of less than forty, with thinreddish brown hair, brows slanting downward from the base of thenose, and a profile of that curious Teuton type reminiscent of asupercilious hound if one could imagine such an animal with milk-blueeyes and a yellow mustache with spiky turned-up ends. But Rhodes did not permit any antipathy he might feel towards the manto interfere with his own duties, and he went stolidly about the rangework as if in utter forgetfulness of the dark prophecy of the girl. If he was to lose his new job he did not mean that it should be frominattention, and nothing was too trifling for his notice. He would dothe work of a range boss twelve hours out of the day, and then put inextra time on a night ride to the _cantina_ at the south wells of LaPartida. But as the work moved north and the consignment of horses for Francemade practically complete, old Cap Pike rode down to Granados corrals, and after contemplation of the various activities of Rhodes, climbedup on the corral fence beside him, where the latter was checking offthe accepted animals. "You're a cheerful idiot for work, Bub, " agreed the old man, "but whatthe devil do you gain by doing so much of the other fellow's job?Pancho Martinez wasn't sick as he played off on you; you're green tothese Mexican tricks. " "Sure, I'm the original Green from Greenburg, " assented his new_companero_. "Pancho was only more than usually drunk last night, while I was fresh as a daisy and eager to enlarge my geographicknowledge, also my linguistics, Hi! Pedro! not the sorrel mare! Cuther out!" "Linguistics?" repeated Pike impatiently. "Yeh, nice little woman in the cantina at La Partida wells. I am awilling pupil at Spanish love songs, and we get along fine. I amalready a howling success at _La Paloma_, _La Golondrina_, and a fewother sentimental birds. " "Oh, you are, are you?" queried Pike. "Well, take a warning. You'llget a knife in your back from her man one of these fine nights, andthe song will be _Adios, adios amores_ for you!" "Nothing doing, Cap! We play _malilla_ for the drinks, and I work itso that he beats me two out of three. I'm so easy I'm not worthwatching. Women don't fancy fools, so I'm safe. " "Well, I'll be 'strafed' by the Dutch!" Pike stared at the youngfellow, frowning in perplexity. "You sure have me puzzled, Bub. Areyou a hopeless dunce by training or nature?" "Natural product, " grinned K. Rhodes cheerfully. "Beauty unadorned. Say Cap, tell me something. What is the attraction for friend Conradsouth of La Partida? I seem to run against a stone wall when I try tofeel out the natives on that point. Now just what lies south, andwhose territory?" The old man looked at him with a new keenness. "For your sort of an idiot you've blundered on a big interrogationpoint, " he observed. "Did you meet him down there?" "No, only heard his voice in the night. It's not very easy to mistakethat velvety blood-puddin' voice of his, and a team went down to meethim. He seems to go down by another route, railroad I reckon, andcomes in by the south ranch. Now just what is south?" "The ranches of Soledad grant join La Partida, or aim to. There are nomaps, and no one here knows how far down over the border the Partidaleagues do reach. Soledad was an old mission site, and a fortifiedhacienda back in the days of Juarez. Its owner was convicted oftreason during Diaz' reign, executed, and the ranches confiscated. Itis now in the hands of a Federal politician who is safer inHermosillo. The revolutionists are thick even among the pacificos uphere, but the Federals have the most ammunition, and the gods of warare with the guns. " "Sure; and who is the Federal politician? No, not that colt, Marcito!" "Perez, Don José Perez, " stated Pike, giving no heed to corralinterpolations. "He claims more leagues than have ever been reckonedor surveyed, took in several Indian rancherias last year when thenatives were rounded up and shipped to Yucatan. " "What?" "Oh, he is in that slave trade good and plenty! They say he is sore onthe Yaquis because he lost a lot of money on a boat load thatcommitted suicide as they were sailing from Guaymas. " "A boat load of suicides! Now a couple of dozen would soundreasonable, but a boat load----" "But it happened to every Indian on the boat, and the boat was full!No one knows how the poor devils decided it, but it was their onlyescape from slavery, and they went over the side like a school offish. Men, women, and children from the desert who couldn't swim astroke! Talk about nerve--there wasn't one weakling in that wholeoutfit, not one! Perez was wild. It lost him sixty dollars a head, American. " "And that's the neighbor friend Conrad takes a run down south to seeoccasionally?" "Who says so, Bub?" The two looked at each other, eyes questioning. "Look here, son, " said Pike, after a little, "I'll hit any trail withyou barring Mexican politics. They all sell each other out as regularas the seasons swing around, and the man north of the line who getstangled is sure to be victim if he stays in long enough. " "Oh, I don't know! We have a statesman or two who flirted with Sonoraand came out ahead. " "I said if he stayed in, " reminded Pike. "Sure we have crooks galorewho drift across, play a cut-throat game and skip back to cover. Theborder is lined with them on both sides. And Conrad----" "But Conrad isn't in politics. " "N-no. There's no evidence that he is, but his Mexican friends are. There are men on the Granados now who used to be down on Soledad, andthey are the men who make the trips with him to the lower ranch. " "Tomas Herrara and Chico Domingo?" "I reckon you've sized them up, but remember, Kit, I don't cross overwith you for any political game, and I don't know a thing!" "All right, Captain, but don't raise too loud a howl if I fancy a_pasear_ occasionally to improve my Spanish. " The old man grumbled direful and profane prophecies as to thingslikely to happen to students of Spanish love songs in Sonora, and thensat with his head on one side studying Kit ruminatively as he made hisnotes of the selected stock. "Ye know Bub, it mightn't be so bad at that, if you called a halt intime, for one of the lost mine trails calls for Spanish and plenty ofit. I've got a working knowledge, but the farther you travel intoSonora the less American you will hear, and that lost mine of the oldpadres is down there along the ranges of Soledad somewhere. " "Which one of the fifty-seven varieties have you elected to uncoverfirst?" queried Rhodes. "The last time you were confidential aboutmines I thought the 'Three Hills of Gold' were mentioned by you. " "Sure it was, but since you are on the Sonora end of the ranch, andsince you are picking up your ears to learn Sonoran trails, it mightbe a good time to follow your luck. Say, I'll bet that every herderwho drifts into the _cantina_ at La Partida has heard of the red goldof El Alisal. The Yaquis used to know where it was before so many ofthem were killed off; reckon it's lost good and plenty now, butnothing is hid forever and it's waiting there for some man with theluck. " "We're willing, " grinned Kit. "You are a great little old dreamer, Captain. And there is a fair chance I may range down there. I met achap named Whitely from over toward the Painted Hills north of Altar. Ranch manager, sort of friendly. " "Sure, Tom Whitely has some stock in a ranch over there--the MesaBlanca ranch--it joins Soledad on the west. I've always aimed to rangethat way, but the lost mine is closer than the eastern sierras--mustbe! The trail of the early padres was farther east, and the mine couldnot well be far from the trail, not more than a day's journey by muleor burro, and that's about twenty miles. You see Bub, it was found bya padre who wandered off the trail on the way to a little branchmission, or _visita_, as they call it, and it was where trees grew, for a big alisal tree--sycamore you know--was near the outcrop of thatred gold. Well, that _visita_ was where the padres only visited theheathen for baptism and such things; no church was built there! That'swhat tangles the trail for anyone trying to find traces after ahundred years. " "I reckon it would, " agreed Rhodes. "Think what a hundred years ofcactus, sand, and occasional _temblors_ can do to a desert, to saynothing of the playful zephyrs. Why, Cap, the winds could lift agood-sized range of hills and fill the baby rivers with it in thattime, for the winds of the desert have a way with them!" A boy rode out of the whirls of dust, and climbed up on the corralfence where Rhodes was finishing tally of the horses selected forshipment. He was the slender, handsome son of Tomas Herrara of whomthey had been speaking. "It is a letter, " he said, taking a folded paper from his hat. "TheSeņor Conrad is having the telegraph, and the cars are to be ready forGranados. " "Right you are, Juanito, " agreed Rhodes. "Tell Seņor Conrad I willreach Granados for supper, and that all the stock is in. " The lad whirled away again, riding joyously north, and Rhodes, aftergiving final directions to the vaqueros, turned his roan in the samedirection. "Can't ride back with you, Cap, for I'm taking a little _pasear_around past Herrara's rancheria. I want to take a look at that bunchof colts and size up the water there. I've a hunch they had better beheaded up the other valley to the Green Springs tank till rainscome. " Captain Pike jogged off alone after some audible and highly coloredremarks concerning range bosses who assumed the power of the Almightyto be everywhere the same day. Yet as he watched the younger mandisappear over the gray-green range he smiled tolerantly for, afterall, that sort of a hustler was the right sort of partner for aprospecting trip. The late afternoon was a golden haze under a metal blue sky; afar tothe east, sharp edges of the mountains cut purple zig-zags into thesalmon pink of the horizon. The rolling waves of the ranges werebathed in a sea of rest, and now and then a bird on the mesquite alongan arroya, or resting on branch of flaring occotilla would give outthe foreboding call of the long shadows, for the heart of the day hadcome and gone, and the cooler air was waking the hidden things fromsiesta. Kit Rhodes kept the roan at a steady lope along the cattle trail, drinking in the refreshing sweetness of the lonely ranges after hoursof dust and heat and the trampling horse herds of the corrals. Occasionally he broke into songs of the ranges, love songs, deathlaments, and curious sentimental ditties of love and wars of oldEngland as still crooned in the cabins of southern mountains. _I had not long been married, A happy, happy bride! When a handsome trooper captain Stepped up to our bedside, "Rise up! rise up! young man, " he said, "And go along with me, In the low, low lands of Holland To fight for liberty. _" The ancient song of the sad bride whose lover proved false in the"low, low lands of Holland" trailed lugubriously along the arroya in atotally irrelevant way, for the singer was not at all sad. He wasgaily alert, keen-eyed and watchful, keeping time to the long lopewith that dubious versification. "And they're at it again pretty close to the 'low, low lands ofHolland, ' Pardner, " he confided to the horse. "And when you and I makea stake you'll go on pasture, I'll hit the breeze for Canada or someother seaport, and get one whack at the Boche brown rat on my own ifofficial America is too proud to fight, for _Oh-h! oh-h! Oh-h! In the low, low lands of Holland, My love was false to me!_" Then, after long stretches of sand dunes, mesquite thickets, occasional wide caņons where _zacatan_ meadows rippled like waves ofthe sea in the desert air, he swung his horse around a low hill andcame in sight of the little adobe of Herrara, a place of stragglyenclosures of stakes and wattles, with the corral at the back. Another rider came over the hill beyond the corral, on a black horseskimming the earth. Rhodes stared and whistled softly as the blackwithout swerving planted its feet and slid down the declivity by thewater tank, and then, jumping the fence below, sped to the little_ramada_ before the adobe where its rider slid to the ground amid adeal of barking of dogs and scattering of children. And although Kit had never seen the rider before, he had no difficultyas to recognition, and on a sudden impulse he whistled the meadow-larkcall loudly enough to reach her ears. She halted at the door, a bundle in her hand, and surveyed thelandscape, but failed to see him because he at that moment was back ofa clump of towering prickly pear. And she passed on into the shadowsof the adobe. "That's the disadvantage of being too perfect, Pardner, " he confidedto the roan, "she thinks we are a pair of birds. " He turned at the corner of the corral and rode around it which tookhim back of the house and out of range from the door, but the dogs setup a ki-yi-ing, and a flock of youngsters scuttled to the corner ofthe adobe, and stared as children of the far ranges are prone to stareat the passing of a traveler from the longed-for highways of theworld. The barking of the dogs and scampering of the children evidently goton the nerves of the black horse left standing at the vine-covered_ramada_, for after a puppy had barked joyously at his heels he leapedaside, and once turned around kept on going, trotting around thecorral after the roan. Rhodes saw it but continued on his way, knowing he could pick it up onhis return, as the Ojo Verde tank was less than a mile away. A boyunder the _ramada_ gave one quick look and then fled, a flash of brownand a red flapping end of a sash, up the caņoncita where the homespring was shadowed by a large mesquite tree. At first Rhodes turned in the saddle with the idea of assisting in thecatching of the black if that was the thing desired, but it evidentlywas not. "Now what has that _muchacho_ on his mind that he makes that sort ofget-away after nothing and no pursuer in sight? Pardner, I reckonwe'll squander a valuable minute or two and gather in that black. " He galloped back, caught the wanderer but kept right on without pauseto the trickle of water under the flat wide-spreading tree--it was asolitaire, being king of its own domain and the only shade, except thevine-covered _ramada_, for a mile. The startled boy made a movement as if to run again as Kit rode up, then halted, fear and fateful resignation changing the childish faceto sullenness. "_Buenas tardes_, Narcisco. " "_Buenas tardes_, seņor, " gulped the boy. "I turned back to catch the horse of the seņorita for you, " observedRhodes. "It is best you tie him when you lead him back, but first givehim water. Thirst is perhaps the cause he is restless. " "Yes seņor, " agreed the lad. "At once I will do that. " But he held thehorse and did not move from his tracks, and then Rhodes noticed thaton the flat rock behind him was a grain sack thrown over something, abrown bottle had rolled a little below it, and the end of a hammerprotruded from under the sacking. Ordinarily Rhodes would have given no heed to any simple ranchutensils gathered under the shadow where work was more endurable, butthe fear in the face of the boy fascinated him. "Think I'll give Pardner a drink while I am about it, " he decided, anddismounted carelessly. "Got a cup that I can take my share first?" Narcisco had no cup, only shook his head and swallowed as if theattempt at words was beyond him. "Well, there is a bottle if it is clean, " and Rhodes strode awkwardlytowards it, but his spur caught in the loose mesh of the sacking, andin loosening it he twisted it off the rock. Narcisco gasped audibly, and Rhodes laughed. He had uncovered a coupleof dozen empty whiskey bottles, and a tin pan with some broken glass. "What you trying to start up here in the caņon, Buddy?" he asked. "Playing saloon-keeper with only the gophers for customers?" He selected a corked bottle evidently clean, rinsed and drank fromit. "Yes--seņor--I am here playing--that is all, " affirmed Narcisco. "Atthe house Tia Mariana puts us out because there is a new _niņo_--mymother and the new one sleep--and there is no place to make a noise. " "Oh, " commented Rhodes, "well, let the black have a little water, andlead him out of the way of mine. This gully isn't wide enough to turnaround in. " Obediently the boy led the black to the sunken barrel catching seepagefrom the barrel under the drip. Rhodes tossed the sack back to theflat rock and noted an old canvas water bottle beside the heap, it washalf full of something--not water, for it was uncorked and the mouthof it a-glitter with shimmering particles like diamond dust, and thesame powder was over a white spot on the rock--the lad evidently wasplaying miller and pounding broken glass into a semblance of meal. "Funny stunt, that!" he pondered, and, smiling, watched the frightenedboy. "Herrara certainly is doing a bit of collecting _vino_ to have astock of bottles that size, and the poor kid's nothing else to playwith. " He mounted and rode on, leaving Narcisco to lead the black to hismistress. He could not get out of his mind the fright in the eyes ofthe boy. Was Herrara a brute to his family, and had Narcisco taken toflight to hide his simple playthings under the mistaken idea that thehorseman was his father returned early from the ranges? That was the only solution Rhodes could find to the problem, though hemilled it around in his mind quite a bit. Unless the boy was curiouslyweak-minded and frightened at the face of a stranger it was the onlyexplanation he could find, yet the boys of Herrara had always struckhim as rather bright. In fact Conrad had promoted Juanito to theposition of special messenger; he could ride like the wind and neverforget a word. The shadows lengthened as he circled the little caņon of the Ojo Verdeand noted the water dripping from the full tanks, ideal for the coltrange for three months. He took note that Herrara was not neglectinganything, despite that collection of bottles. There was no wastage andthe pipes connecting the tanks were in good condition. He rode back, care free and content, through the fragrant valley. Thecool air was following the lowering sun, and a thin mauve veil wasdrifting along the hills of mystery in the south; he sang as he rodeand then checked the song to listen to the flutelike call of a lark. His lips curved in a smile as he heard it, and with it came thethought of the girl and the barred window of Vijil's adobe. She permeated the life of Granados just as the soft veil enwrapped thefar hills, and she had seemed almost as far away if not so mysterious. Not once had he crossed her trail, and he heard she was no longerpermitted to ride south of the line. The vaqueros commented on thisvariously according to their own point of view. Some of the Mexicansresented it, and in one way or another her name was mentioned wheneverproblems of the future were discussed. Singleton was regarded astemporary, and Conrad was a salaried business manager. But on a dayto come, the seņorita, as her mother's daughter, would be theirmistress, and the older men with families showed content at thethought. Rhodes never could think of her as the chatelaine of those wideranges. She was to him the "meadow-lark child" of jests and laughter, heard and remembered but not seen. She was the haunting music of youthmeeting him at the gateway of a new land which is yet so old! Some such vagrant thought drifted through his mind as the sweet callsof the drowsy birds cut the warm silence, now from some graceful paloverde along a barranca and again from the slender pedestal of anoccotilla. "Lucky you, for you get an answer!" he thought whimsically. "Amblealong, Pardner, or the night witches get us!" And then he circled a little at the north of the caņon, and the blackhorse, champing and fidgeting, was held there across the trail by itsrider. "We are seeing things in broad daylight, Pardner, and there ain't nosuch animal, " decided Rhodes, but Pardner whinnied, and the girl threwup her hand. "This time I am a highwayman, the far-famed terror of the ranges!" shecalled. "Sure!" he conceded. "I've been thinking quite a while that your termmust be about up. " She laughed at that, and came alongside. "Didn't you suppose I might have my time shortened for good behavior?"she asked. "You never even ride our way to see. " "Me? Why, child, I'm so busy absorbing _kultur_ from your scientificmanager that my spare moments for damsels in distress are none tooplenty. You sent out nary a call, and how expect the lowest of yourserfs to hang around?" "Serf? That's good!" she said skeptically. "And say, you must loveConrad about as much as Cap Pike does. " "And that?" "Is like a rattlesnake. " "Don't know that rattlesnake would be my first choice of comparison, "remarked Rhodes. "Back in Tennessee we have a variety beside which therattlesnake is a gentleman; a rattlesnake does his best to givewarning of intention, but the copperhead never does. " "Copperhead! that's funny, for you know Conrad's hair is just aboutthe color of copper, dusty copper, faded copper--copper with tinfilings sifted through. " "Don't strain yourself, " laughed Rhodes. "That beautiful blondnessmakes him mighty attractive to our Mexican cousins. " "They can have my share, " decided the girl. "I could worry alongwithout him quite awhile. He manages to get rid of all the likeablerange men _muy pronto_. " Rhodes laughed until she stared at him frowningly, and then thedelicious color swept over her face. "Oh, _you_!" she said, and Rhodes thought of sweet peas, and pinkroses in old southern gardens as her lips strove to be straight, yetcurved deliciously. No one had mentioned to him how pretty she was; hehad thought of her as a browned tom-boy, but instead she was ashell-pink bud on a slender stem, and wonder of wonders--she rode aside-saddle in Arizona! She noticed him looking at it. "Are you going to laugh at that, too?" she demanded. "Why no, it hadn't occurred to me. It sort of looks like home tome--our southern girls use them. " She turned to him with a quick birdlike movement, her gray eyessoftened and trusting. "It was my mother's saddle, a wedding present from the vaqueros of ourranches when she married my father. I am only beginning to use it, andnot so sure of myself as with the one I learned on. " "Oh, I don't know, " he observed. "You certainly looked sure when youjumped that fence at Herrara's. " She glanced at him quickly, curious, and then smiling. "And it was you, not the meadow lark! You are too clever!" "And you didn't answer, just turned your back on the lonely ranger, "he stated dolefully, but she laughed. "This doesn't look it, waiting to go home with you, " she retorted. "Cap Pike has been telling me about you until I feel as if I had knownyou forever. He says you are his family now, so of course that makesGranados different for you. " "Why, yes. I've been in sight of Granados as much as twice since Istruck this neck of the woods. Your manager seems to think my valuableservices are indispensable at the southern side of this littleworld. " "So that's the reason? I didn't know, " she said slowly. "One wouldhave to be a seventh son of a seventh son to understand his queerways. But you are going along home today, for I am a damsel indistress and need to be escorted. " "You don't look distressed, and I've an idea you could run away fromyour escort if you took a notion, " he returned. "But it is my luckyday that I had a hunch for this caņon trail and the Green Springs, andI am happy to tag along. " They had reached Herrara's corral and Rhodes glanced up the littlegulch to the well. The flat rock there was stripped of the oddcollection, and Narcisco stood at the corner of the adobe watchingthem somberly. "_Buenos tardes!_" called the girl. "Take care of the _niņo_ as thevery treasure of your heart!" "Sure!" agreed the lad, "_Adios_, seņorita. " "Why the special guard over the treasure?" asked Rhodes as theirhorses fell into the long easy lope side by side. "The house seemsfull and running over, and _niņitas_ to spare. " "There are never any to spare, " she reminded him, "and this one isdoubly precious for it is named for me--together its saint and its twograndmothers! Benicia promised me long ago that whether it was a boyor a girl it would be Billie Bernard Herrara. I was just taking theextra clothes I had Tia Luz make for him--and he is a littleblack-eyed darling! Soon as he is weaned I'm going to adopt him; Ialways did want a piccaninny for my own. " Rhodes guided his horse carefully around a barranca edge, honeycombedby gophers, and then let his eyes rest again on the lustrous confidingeyes, and the rose-leaf lips. Afterward he told himself that was the moment he began to be bewitchedby Billie Bernard. But what he really said was--"Shoo, child, you're only a piccaninnyyourself!" and they both laughed. It was quite wonderful how old Captain Pike had managed to serve as afamily foundation for their knowledge of each other. There was not adoubt or a barrier between them, they were "home folks" riding fromdifferent ways and meeting in the desert, and silently claimingkindred. The shadows grew long and long under the sun of the old Mexic land, and the high heavens blazed above in yellows and pinks fading intoveiled blues and far misty lavenders in the hollows of the hills. The girl drew a great breath of sheer delight as she waved her handstowards the fire flame in the west where the desert was a trail ofgolden glory. "Oh, I am glad--glad I got away!" she said in a hushed half-awedvoice. "It never--never could be like this twice and we are seeing it!Look at the moon!" The white circle in the east was showing through a net of softestpurple and the beauty of it caused them to halt. "Oh, it makes me want to sing, or to say my prayers, or--to cry!" shesaid, and she blinked tears from her eyes and smiled at him. "I reckonthe colors would look the same from the veranda, but all this makes itseem different, " and her gesture took in the wide ranges. "Sure it does, " he agreed. "One wants to yell, 'Hurrah for God!' whena combination like this is spread before the poor meek and lowly ofthe earth. It is a great stage setting, and makes us humans seemrather inadequate. Why, we can't even find the right words for it. " "It makes me feel that I just want to ride on and on, and on throughit, no matter which way I was headed. " "Well, take it from me, seņorita, you are headed the right way, " heobserved. "Going north is safe, but the blue ranges of the south arewalls of danger. The old border line is a good landmark to tie to. " "Um!" she agreed, "but all the fascinating things and the witchythings, and the mysterious things are down there over the border. Inever get real joy riding north. " "Perhaps because it is not forbidden, Miss Eve. " Then they laughed again and lifted the bridles, and the horses brokeinto a steady lope, neck and neck, as the afterglow made the earthradiant and the young faces reflected the glory of it. "What was that you said about getting away?" he queried. "Did youbreak jail?" "Just about. Papa Singleton hid my cross-saddle thinking I would notgo far on this one. They have put a ban on my riding south, but I justhad to see my Billie Bernard Herrara. " "And you ran away?" "N-no. We sneaked away mighty slow and still till we got a mile or twoout, and then we certainly burned the wind. Didn't we, Pat?" "Well, as range boss of this end of the ranch I reckon I have to herdyou home, and tell them to put up the fences, " said Rhodes. "Yes, you will!" she retorted in derision of this highly improbablesuggestion. "Surest thing you know! Singleton has good reasons for restrictingyour little pleasure rides to Granados. Just suppose El Gavilan, theHawk, should cross your trail in Sonora, take a fancy to Pat--for Patis some _caballo_!--and gather you in as camp cook?" "Camp cook?" "Why, yes; you can cook, can't you? All girls should know how tocook. " "What if I do? I have cooked on the camp trips with Cap Pike, but thatdoesn't say I'll ever cook for that wild rebel, Ramon Rotil. Are youtrying to frighten me off the ranges?" "No, only stating the case, " replied Rhodes lighting a cigarette andobserving her while appearing not to. "Quite a few of the girls in therevolution camps are as young as you, and many of them are not doingcamp work by their own choice. " "But I--" she began indignantly. "Oh yes, in time you would be ransomed, and for a few minutes youmight think it romantic--the 'Bandit Bride, ' the 'Rebel Queen, ' the'Girl Guerrilla, ' and all that sort of dope, --but believe me, child, by the time the ransom was paid you would be sure that north of theline was the garden spot of the earth and heaven enough for you, ifyou could only see it again!" She gave him one sulky resentful look and dug her heel into Pat. Heleaped a length ahead of the roan and started running. "You can pretend you are El Gavilan after a lark, and see how near youwill get!" she called derisively and leaned forward urging the blackto his best. "You glorified gray-eyed lark!" he cried. "Gather her in, Pardner!" But he rode wide to the side instead of at the heels of Pat and thusthey rode neck and neck joyously while he laughed at her intent toleave him behind. The corrals and long hay ricks of Granados were now in sight, backedby the avenue of palms and streaks of green where the irrigationditches led water to the outlying fields and orchards. "El Gavilan!" she called laughingly. "Beat him, Pat, --beat him to thehome gate!" Then out of a fork of the road to the left, an automobile swept tothem from a little valley, one man was driving like the wind andanother waved and shouted. Rhodes' eyes assured him that the shoutingman was Philip Singleton, and he rode closer to the girl, grasped herbridle, and slowed down his own horse as well as hers. "You'll hate me some more for this, " he stated as she tried to jerkloose and failed, "but that yelping windmill is your fond guardian, and he probably thinks I am trying to kidnap you. " She halted at that, laughing and breathless, and waved her hand to theoccupants of the car. "I can be good as an angel now that I have had my day!" she said. "Hello folks! What's the excitement?" The slender man whom Rhodes had termed the yelping windmill, removedhis goggles, and glared, hopelessly distressed at the flushed, half-laughing girl. "Billie--Wilfreda!" "Now, now, Papa Singleton! Don't swear, and don't ever get frightenedbecause I am out of sight. " Then she cast one withering glance atRhodes, adding, --"and if you engage range bosses like this one no oneon Granados will ever get out of sight!" "The entire house force has been searching for you over two hours. Where have you been?" "Oh, come along home to supper, and don't fuss, " she suggested. "Justbecause you hid my other saddle I went on a little _pasear_ of my own, and I met up with this roan on my way home. " Rhodes grinned at the way she eliminated the rider of the roan horse, but the driver of the machine was not deceived by the apparent slight. He had seen that half defiant smile of comradeship, and his tone wasnot nice. "It is not good business to waste time and men in this way, " he statedflatly. "It would be better that word is left with the right ones whenyou go over the border to amuse yourself in Sonora. " The smile went out of the eyes of the girl, and she held her head veryerect. "You and Mr. Rhodes appear to agree perfectly, Mr. Conrad, " sheremarked. "He was trying to show me how little chance I would standagainst El Gavilan or even the Yaqui slave traders if they ranged uptowards the border. " "Slave traders?" repeated Conrad. "You are making your jokes aboutthat, of course, but the camp followers of the revolution is adifferent thing;--everywhere they are ranging. " The girl did not answer, and the car sped on to the ranch house whilethe two horses cantered along after them, but the joyous freedom ofthe ride had vanished, lost back there on the ranges when the otherminds met them in a clash. "Say, " observed Rhodes, "I said nothing about Yaqui slave traders. Where did you get that?" "I heard Conrad and his man Brehman talking of the profits, --sixtypesos a head I think it was. I wonder how they knew?" Singleton was waiting for them at the entrance to the ranch house, great adobe with a patio eighty feet square in the center. In the oldold days it had housed all the vaqueros, but now the ranchmen weredivided up on different outlying rancherias and the many rooms ofGranados were mostly empty. Conrad, his secretary Brehman, and theircook occupied one corner, while Singleton and Billie and Tia Luz withher brood of helpers occupied the other. Singleton was not equal to the large hospitality of the old days whenthe owner of a hacienda was a sort of king, dispensing favors andduties to a small army of retainers. A companionable individual he wasglad to meet and chat or smoke with, but if the property had been hisown he would have sold every acre and spent the proceeds in some cityof the East where a gentleman could get something for his money. Conrad had halted a moment after Singleton climbed out of the car. "I sent word to Rhodes to come up from La Partida because of the horseshipment, " he said looking across the level where the two riders werejust entering the palm avenue. "Because of that it would seem he is tobe my guest, and I have room. " "Oh, we all have room, more room than anything else, " answeredSingleton drearily, "but it will be as Billie says. I see Pike's naghere, and she always wants Pike. " The milky blue eyes of Conrad slanted towards Singleton in discreetcontempt of the man who allowed a wayward girl to decide the guests orthe housing of them. But he turned away. "The telephone will reach me if there is anything I can do, " he said. Singleton did not reply. He knew Conrad absolutely disapproved of therange boss being accepted as a family guest. Between Billie andCaptain Pike, who was a privileged character, he did not quite see howhe could prevent it in the case of Rhodes, although he was honestly soglad to see the girl ride home safe that he would have accepted anyguest of the range she suggested. "Papa Phil, " she said smiling up into his face teasingly, "I'm on mynative heath again, so don't be sulky. And I have a darling newnamesake I've been making clothes for for a month, and I'll tell youall about him if you'll give Mr. Rhodes and me a good supper. He isCap Pike's family, and will have the south corner room; please tellTia Luz. " And when Billie was like that, and called him "Papa Phil, " and lookedup at him with limpid childish eyes, there was never much else to besaid. "I'll show Rhodes his quarters myself, and you make haste and get yourhabit off. Luz has been waiting supper an hour. Today's paper reportsa band of bandits running off stock on the Alton ranch, and it is onthe Arizona side of the border. That should show you it is no time toride out of sight of the corrals. " "Now, now! you know the paper raids aren't real raids. They'll have anew one to get excited over tomorrow. " She ran away to be petted and scolded and prayed for by Tia Luz, whohad been her nurse, and was now housekeeper and the privileged one towhom Billie turned for help and sympathy. "You laugh! but the heart was melting in me with the fear, " shegrumbled as she fastened the yellow sash over the white lawn intowhich Billie had dashed hurriedly. "It is not a joke to be caught inthe raiding of Ramon Rotil, or any of the other accursed! Who couldthink it was south you were riding? I was the one to send them northin the search, every man of them, and Seņor Conrad looks knives at me. That man thinks I am a liar, sure he does! and the saints know I washonest and knew nothing. " "Sure you know nothing, never could and never did, you dear old bag ofcotton, " and Billie pinched affectionately the fat arm of Tia Luz andtickled her under her fat chin. "Quick Luzita, and fasten me up. Supper waits, and men are always raving wolves. " She caught up a string of amber beads and clasped it about her throatas she ran across the patio, and Kit Rhodes halted a moment in thecorridor to watch her. "White and gold and heavenly lovely, " he thought as he rumpled hiscrisp brown curls meditatively, all forgetful of the earnest attemptshe had just made to smooth them decorously with the aid of a damptowel and a pocket comb. "White and gold and a silver spoon, and aback seat for you, Kittie boy!" Captain Pike emerged from a door at the corner of the patio. He alsohad damp hair, a shiny face, and a brand-new neckerchief with indigocircles on a white ground. "Look at this, will you?" he piped gleefully. "Billie's the greatestchild ever! Always something stuck under the pillow like you'd hidecandy for a kid, and say, --if any of the outfit would chuck anotherhombre in my bunk the little lady would raise hell from here toPinecate, and worse than that there ain't any this side of theEuropean centers of civilization. Come on in, supper's ready. " Rhodes hesitated at the door of the dining room, suddenly conscious ofa dusty blouse and a much faded shirt. His spurs clink-clanked as hestrode along the tiling of the patio, and in the semi-twilight he feltat home in the ranch house, but one look at the soft glow of theshaded lamps, and the foot deep of Mexican needlework on the tablecover, gave him a picture of home such as he had not seen on theranges. Singleton was in spotless white linen, the ideal southern ranchman'shome garb, while the mistress of all the enticing picture was in whiteand gold, and flushing pink as she met the grave appreciative gaze ofRhodes. "H'lo little Santa Claus, " chirruped Pike. "It's just the proper caperto set off my manly beauty, so I'm one ahead of Kit who has no one togarnish him for the feast--and it sure smells like some feast!" "Venison perhaps a trifle overdone, but we hope it won't disappointyou, " remarked Singleton. "Have this seat, Mr. Rhodes. Captain Pikeand Miss Bernard always chum together, and have their own side. " "Rather, " decided Pike, "and that arrangement reaches back beyond thememory of mere man in this outfit. " "I should say, " agreed the girl. "Why, he used to have to toss me overhis head a certain number of times before I would agree to be strappedin my high chair. " "Yep, and I carpentered the first one, and it wasn't so bad at that!Now child, if you will pass the lemons, and Kit will pass the decanterof amber, and someone else will rustle some water, I'll manufacture atonic to take the dust out of your throats. " "Everybody works but father, " laughed Billie as the Chinaman slicedand served the venison, and Tia Luz helped supply all plates, and thentook her place quietly at the lower end of the table and poured thestrong fragrant coffee. Rhodes spoke to her in Spanish, and her eyes lit up with kindlyappreciation. "Ah, very good!" she commented amicably. "You are not then too muchAmericano?" "Well, yes, I'm about as American as you find them aside from theApache and Pima and the rest of the tribes. " "Maybe so, but not gringo, " she persisted. "I am scared of the Apachethe same as of El Gavilan, and today my heart was near to stop goingat all when we lose seņorita and that black horse--and I say a prayerfor you to San Antonio when I see you come fetch her home again. " "Yes, the black horse is valuable, " remarked Billie. "Huh! I might aswell be in a convent for all I get to see of the ranges these latedays. If anyone would grubstake me, I'd break loose with Cap here andgo prospecting for adventures into some of the unnamed ranges. " "You see!" said Tia Luz. "Is it a wonder I am cold with the fear whenshe is away from my eyes? I have lived to see the people who go intothe desert for adventure, and whose bare bones are all any man lookson again! Beside the mountain wells of Carrizal my own cousin'shusband died; he could not climb to the tank in the hill. There theyfound him in the moon of Kumaki, which is gray and nothing growingyet. " "Yes, many's the salt outfit in the West played out before theyreached Tinajas Altas, " said Pike. "I've heard curious tales aboutthat place, and the Carrizals as well. Billie's father nearly cashedin down in the Carrizals, and one of his men did. " "But that is what I am saying. It was Dario Ruiz, " stated Tia Luz. "Yes, seņor, that was the time, and it was for the nameless rangesthey went seeking, and for adventures, treasure too; but--his soul toGod! it was death Dario was finding on that trail. Your father neverwould speak one word again of the treasure of that old fable, forDario found death instead of the red gold, and Dario was _compadre_ tohim. " "The red gold?" and Cap Pike's eyes were alight with interest. "Why, Iwas telling Kit about that today, the red gold of El Alisal. " "Yes, Seņor Capitan, once so rich and so red it was a wonder in Spainwhen the padres are sending it there from the mission of Soledad, andthen witches craft, like a cloud, come down and cover that mountain. So is the vein lost again, and it is nearly one hundred years. So howcould Dario think to find it when the padres, with all their prayer, never once found the trail?" "I never heard it was near a mission, " remarked Pike. "Why, if it hada landmark like that there should be no trouble. " "Yet it is so, and much trouble, also deaths, " stated Tia Luz. "Thatis how the saying is that the red gold of El Alisal is gold bewitched, for of Soledad not one adobe is now above ground unless it be in theold walls of the hacienda. All is melted into earth again or coveredby the ranch house, and it is said the ranch house is also neglectednow, and many of its old walls are going. " "There are still enough left to serve as a very fair fortress, "remarked Singleton. "I was down there two years ago when we boughtsome herds from Perez, and lost quite a number from lack of waterbefore the vaqueros got them to La Partida wells. It is a long waybetween water holes over in Altar. " "Sure, " agreed Pike, "but if the old mine was near a mission, and themission was near the ranch of Soledad it should not be a great stuntto find it, and there must be water and plenty of it if they do muchin cattle. " "They don't these days, " said Singleton. "Perez sold a lot rather thanrisk confiscation, and I heard they did have some raids down there. Ithought I had heard most of the lost mine legends of western Sonora, but I never heard of that one, and I never heard that Fred Bernardwent looking for it. " The old woman lifted her brows and shrugged her shoulders with thesuggestion that Sonora might hold many secrets from the amicablegentleman. But a little later, in an inquiry from Rhodes sheexplained. "See you, seņor, Dario Ruiz was _compadre_ of Seņor Alfredo Bernard, Americanos not understanding all in that word, and the grandfather ofDario was major-domo of the rancho of Soledad at that time the Apachesare going down and killing the people there. That is when the mine waslost. On the skin of a sheep it was told in writing all about it, andDario had that skin. Sure he had! It was old and had been buried inthe sand, and holes were eaten in it by wild things, but Don Alfredodid read it, and I was hearing the reading of it to Dario Ruiz, but ofwhat use the reading when that mine bewitched itself into hiding?" "But the writing? Did that bewitch itself away also?" demandedBillie. "How could I be asking of that when Dario was dead down there in thedesert, and his wife, that was my cousin Anita, was crazy wild againstDon Alfredo the father of you! Ai, that was a bad time, and DonAlfredo with black silence on him for very sorrow. And never again inhis life did he take the Sonora trail for adventures or old treasure. And it is best that you keep to a mind like his mind, seņorita. Hegrew wise, but Dario died for that wisdom, and in Sonora someonealways dies before wisdom is found. First it was two priests went todeath for that gold, and since that old day many have been going. Itis a witchcraft, and no blessing on it!" "Well, I reckon I'd be willing to cross my fingers, and take thetrail if I could get started right, " decided Rhodes. "It certainlysounds alluring. " "I did go in once, " confessed Pike, "but we had no luck, struck a_temporale_ where a Papago had smallpox, and two dry wells where thereshould have been water. My working pardner weakened at Paradones andwe made tracks for the good old border. That is no trail for a lonewhite man. " "But the writing, the writing!" persisted Billie. "Tia Luz, you are agold mine yourself of stories, but this one you never told, and I amcrazy about it! You never forget anything, and the writing you _could_not, --so we know you have the very words of that writing!" "Yes, that is true too, for the words were not so many, and where somewords had been the wild things had eaten holes. The words said thatfrom the mine of El Alisal the mission of Soledad could be seen. Andfrom the door of Soledad it was one look, one only, to the bluecaņoncita where the alisal tree was growing, and water from the goldof the rose washed the roots of that tree. " "Good God!" muttered Rhodes staring at the old lady who sat noddingher head in emphasis until her jet and gold earrings were alla-twinkle. "It was as easy as _that_, --yet no one found it?" "But seņor, "--and it was plain to be seen that Doņa Luz was enjoyingherself hugely as the center of all attention, "the two padres whomade that writing met their death at that place--and it was said the_barbaros_ at last killed also the grandfather of Dario, anyway he diddie, and the women were afraid to tell even a new padre of thatburied writing for the cause that it must have been accursed when itkilled all people. That is how it was, and that mission was forsakenafter that time. A Spaniard came up from Sinaloa and hunted gold andbuilt Soledad hacienda where that mission had been in that old time, but no one ever found any more of gold than the chickens always arepicking, a little here, a little there with a gravel in the craw. Noseņor, only once the red gold--red as flame--went out of Altar on amule to the viceroy in Mexico, and the padres never lived to send anymore, or see their brothers again. The men who dug that gold dug alsotheir grave. Death goes with it. " "Ugh!" and Billie shivered slightly, and looked at Rhodes, "don't yougo digging it!" His eyes met hers across the table. It was only for an instant, andthen Billie got very busy with her coffee which she had forgotten. "Oh, I'd travel with a mascot to ward off evil, " he said. "Would yougive me a bead from your string?" She nodded her head, but did not speak. No one noticed them, for CapPike was telling of the old native superstition that the man who firstfound an ore bed found no good luck for himself, though the next manmight make a fortune from it. "Why, " he continued in evidence, "an Indian who finds even a vein ofspecial clay for pottery doesn't blaze a trail to it for anyone else. He uses it if he wants it, because his own special guardian goduncovered it for him, but if it is meant for any other man, that otherman's god will lead him to it when the time comes. That is how theyreason it out for all the things covered by old Mother Earth. And Ireckon the redder the gold the more secret the old _barbaros_ would beabout it, for gold is their sun-god medicine, or symbol, orsomething. " "With white priests scattered through Sonora for two centuriesone would suppose those old superstitions would be pretty welleradicated, " remarked Singleton. Doņa Luz glanced at him as at a child who must be let have his ownideas so long as they were harmless, but Pike laughed. "Lord love you, Singleton, nothing eradicates superstition fromthe Indian mind, or any other mind! All the creeds of the earth arebuilt on it, and a lot of the white ones are still alive and goingstrong! And as for priests, why man, the Indian priests are bred ofthose tribes, and were here before the white men came from Spain. It'sjust about like this: If 'Me und Gott' and the U-boats took a notionto come over and put a ball and chain on all of so-called freeAmerica, there might be some pacifist mongrels pretend to like it, and just dote on putting gilt on the chain, and kow-towing to thatblood-puddin' gang who are raising hell in Belgium. But would thethoroughbreds like it? Not on your life! Well, don't you forgetthere were a lot of thoroughbreds in the Indian clans even if someof their slaves did breed mongrels! And don't forget that the shipsfrom overseas are dumping more scrub stock on the eastern shores rightnow than you'll find in any Indian rancheria either here in Pima orover in Sonora. The American isn't to blame for all the seventeendozen creeds they bring over, --whether political or religious, and Ireckon that's about the way the heads of the red clans feel. They aremore polite than we are about it, but don't you think for a momentthat the European invasion ever changed religion for the Indianthoroughbred. No sir! He is still close to the earth and thestars, and if he thinks they talk to him--well, they just _talk tohim_, and what they tell him isn't for you or me to hear, --or to sitin judgment on either, if it comes to that! We are the outsiders. " "Now, Cap, " said Billie, "I'm going to take it away. It's too nearyour elbow, and you have had a double dose for every single one you'vebeen handing out! You can take a rest until the others catch up. TiaLuz, give him a cup of coffee good and strong to help get his politicsand religion straightened out. " Pike laughed heartily with the rest of them, and took the coffee. "All right, dear little Buttercup. Any medicine you hand out is goodto me. But say, that dope about hidden ores may not be all Indian atthat, for I recollect that mountaineers of Tennessee had the samehunch about coal veins, and an old lead vein where one family went fortheir ammunition. They could use it and they did, but were mighty surethey'd all be hoodooed if they uncovered it for anyone else, so Ireckon that primitive dope does go pretty far back. I'll bet it wasold when Tubal Cain first began scratching around the outcroppings byhis lonesomes. " Conrad sauntered along the corridor and seated himself, flicking idlysome leather thongs he had cut out from a green hide with a curvedsheath knife rather fine and foreign looking. Singleton called him tocome in and have coffee, but he would not enter, pleading hisevil-smelling pipe as a reason. "It can't beat mine for a downright bachelor equipment, " affirmedPike, "but I've scandalized this outfit enough, or thereabout, andthat venison has killed all our appetites until breakfast, so why hangaround where ungrateful children swat a man's dearest hobbies?" "If you think you'll get rid of me that way you had better thinkagain, " said Billie. "I don't mind your old smokes, or any other ofyour evil ways, so long as you and Tia Luz tell us more bewitched minestories. Say, Cap, wouldn't it be great if that old sheepskin wasfound again, and we'd all outfit for a Sonora _pasear_, and----" "We would not!" decided the old man patting her hair. "You, my lady, will take a _pasear_ to some highbrow finishing school beyond theranges, and I'll hit the trail for Yuma in a day or two, but at thepresent moment you can wind up the music box and start it warbling. That supper sure was so perfect nothing but music will do for afinish!" The men drifted out in the corridor and settled into the built-inseats of the plazita, though Rhodes remained standing in the portalfacing inward to the patio where the girl's shimmering white dressfluttered in the moonlight beside the shadowy bulk of Tia Luz. He lit a cigarette and listened for the music box Pike had suggested, but instead he heard guitar strings, and the little ripple ofintroduction to the old Spanish serenade _Vengo a tu ventana_, "I cometo your window. " He turned and glanced towards the men who were discussing horseshipments, and possibilities of the Prussian sea raiders sinkingtransports on the way to France, but decided his part of thatdiscussion could wait until morning. Tia Luz had lit the lamp in the _sala_, and the light streamed acrossthe patio where the night moths fluttered about the white oleanders. He smiled in comical self-derision as he noticed the moths, but tossedaway the cigarette and followed the light. When Captain Pike indulged the following morning in sarcastic commentover Kit's defection, the latter only laughed at him. "Shirk business? Nothing doing. I was strictly on the job listening tolocal items on treasure trails instead of powwowing with you all overthe latest news reports from the Balkans. Soon as my pocket has ajingle again, I am to get to the French front if little old U. S. Won't give me a home uniform, but in the meantime Doņa Luz Moreno issome reporter if she is humored, and I mean to camp alongside everychance I get. She has the woman at the _cantina_ backed off the map, and my future Spanish lessons will be under the wing of Doņa Luz. Mefor her!" "Avaricious young scalawag!" grunted Pike. "You'd study Africanwhistles and clicks and clacks if it blazed trail to that lost golddeposit! Say, I sort of held the others out there in front thinking Iwould let you get acquainted with little Billie, and you waste thetime chinning about death in the desert, and dry camps to thatblack-and-tan talking machine. " Kit only laughed at him. "A record breaker of a moon too!" grumbled the old man. "Lord!--lord!at your age I'd crawled over hell on a rotten rail to just sitalongside a girl like Billie--and you pass her up for an old hen witha mustache, and a gold trail!" Kit Rhodes laughed some more as he got into the saddle and headed forthe Granados corral, singing: _Oh--I'll cut off my long yellow hair To dress in men's array, And go along with you, my dear Your waiting man to be!_ He droned out the doleful and incongruous love ballad of old lands, and old days, for the absurd reason that the youth of the world in hisown land beat in his blood, and because in the night time one of thetwinkling stars of heaven had dropped down the sky and become a girlof earth who touched a guitar and taught him the words of a Spanishserenade, --in case he should find a Mexican sweetheart along theborder! For to neither of the young, care-free things, had come a glimmer offore-vision of the long tragic days, treasure trails and desertdeaths, primitive devotions and ungodly vengeance, in which thethreads of their own lives would be entangled before those two everheard the music of the patio again--together. _If in Holland fields I met a maid All handsome fond and gay, And I should chance to love her What would my Mary say?_ _What would I say, dear Willie? That I would love her too, And I would step to the one side That she might speak with you!_ "Yes, you would--not!" he stated in practical prose to no one inparticular. "Not if you were our girl, would she, Pardner?" Pardner tossed up his head in recognition of the comradeship in thetone, and Kit Rhodes became silent, and rode on to the corrals, happily smiling at some new thoughts. CHAPTER III A VERIFIED PROPHECY OF SEŅORITA BILLIE That smile was yet with him when he saw the herd and the vaqueroscoming up from the water tanks, and noted Conrad and Tomas Herraratalking together beside Conrad's automobile. The beat of the many hoofs prevented the two men from noting one horsenear them, and words of Conrad came to him clearly. "It has to be that way. You to go instead of Miguel. You have enoughEnglish, you can do it. " Tomas Herrara muttered something, evidently reluctance, for againConrad's words were heard. "But think of the _dinero_, much of money to you! And that fool swinewill not see what is under his nose. You can do it, sure you can!There is no danger. The blame will be to him if it is found; my agentwill see to that. Not you but the gringo will be the one to answer thelaw. You will know nothing. " He spoke in Spanish rapidly, while both men watched the approachingvaqueros. The smile had gone from Kit's face, and he was puzzled to follow thewords, or even trust his own ears. "_Bueno_, " said Herrara with a nod of consent. "Since Miguel ishurt----" "Whoa, Pardner, " sang out Rhodes, back of them as he slid out of thesaddle. "Good morning, gentlemen. Do you say Miguel is hurt, Herrara?How comes that?" The face of Herrara went a curious gray, and his lips blue andapparently stiff for he only murmured, "_Buenas dias_, seņor, " andgulped and stared at Conrad. But the surprise of Conrad, whileapparent, was easily accounted for, and he was too well poised to bestartled unduly by any emergency. "Hah! Is it you, Rhodes, so early? Yes, Miguel is reported hurt overPoso Verde way. Not serious, but for the fact that he was the one togo with you on the horse shipment, and now another must go. Perhapshis brother here. " "Oh--ah--yes, " assented Rhodes thoughtfully. He was not so old asConrad, and quite aware he was not so clever, and he didn't know theirgame, so he strove as he could to hold the meaning of what he hadheard, and ended rather lamely: "Well, too bad about Miguel, but ifyou, Tomas, are going instead, you had better get your war togs ready. We start tonight from the Junction, and have three hours to getready. " "Three hours only!" again Herrara seemed to weaken. To start in threehours a journey into the unknown far East of the Americano was beyondhis imaginings. He shrugged his shoulders, tossed his hands outwardsin despair, and turned toward the barns. Conrad looked after him in irritation, and then smiled at Rhodes. Hehad a rather ingratiating smile, and it the first time he had betrayedit to Kit. "These explosive Latins, " he said derisively. "I think I can make himreasonable, and you go forward with your own preparations. " He followed Herrara, leaving Kit staring after them wondering. Hisglance then rested on the automobile, and he noted that it had notmerely come out of the garage for the usual work of the day. It hadbeen traveling somewhere, for the wheels were crusted with mud--mudnot there at sunset yesterday. And in that section of Pima there wasno water to make mud nearer than Poso Verde, and it was over thereMiguel Herrara had been hurt! He had only three hours, and no time to investigate. There were rumorsof smuggling all along the line over there, and strange conferencesbetween Mexican statesmen and sellers of Connecticut hardware of anexplosive nature. He recalled having heard that Singleton was fromConnecticut, or was it Massachusetts? Anyway, it was over there at theeastern edge of the country somewhere, and it was also where plots andcounter plots were pretty thick concerning ammunition; also they weremore complicated on the Mexican border. He wondered if Singleton wasas simple as he looked, for he certainly was paying wages to a mixedlot. Also it was a cinch to run any desirable contraband from Granadosacross to La Partida and from there hellwards. He wondered if Singleton knew? But Singleton had a capable businessmanager, while he, Rhodes, was only a range boss with the understandingthat he adjust himself to any work a white man might qualify for. The mere fact that once he had sat at the family table might not, inSingleton's eyes, warrant him in criticizing an approved manager, ordirecting suspicion towards him. He might speak to Pike, but herealized that Pike was not taken very seriously; only welcomed becauseBillie liked him, and because an American ranch usually had the opendoor for the old timers of his caliber. Also Pike had told him plainly that he must not be expected to mix upin the Mexican game for any reason whatsoever. "I reckon it's up to us, Pardner, " he decided, as he called directionsto the different men loading the wagons with oats and barley for thestock on the trail. There were three mule teams ready for the railroadjunction where the cars were waiting on the siding, or would be bynight. Some of the men were getting the mules straightened out in the harnesswhile others were roping horses in the corral. It would take most ofthe home outfit to lead and drive them to the railroad, which meantone lonely and brief period of hilarity at the only joint where"bootleg" whiskey could be secured by the knowing, and a "movie"theater could add to other simple entertainments for the gentle Juansof the ranges. Neither Conrad nor Herrara were visible, and hepresumed the latter was making arrangements for the sudden andunexpected departure from his family, but he knew he had not attemptedto ride home for a farewell greeting, because his horse still stoodnear Conrad's automobile where he had first overheard that curiousconversation between the two men. After a leisurely breakfast Pike was meandering towards the stockyard on his mule with the intent to trail along to the Junction withthe boys. Rhodes, catching sight of him, looked hopefully butunsuccessfully for Singleton. The minutes were slipping by, and nodefinite instructions had been given him concerning the three carloads of horses. Did Conrad mean to leave every detail until the lastmoment and make difficulties for the new man? Was that the way he gotrid of the Americans he didn't want? He recalled the prophecy ofBillie that he would not hold his job. Well, he would show her! With memories of the white and gold vision of the previous night, andthe guitar in the _sala_, and the moonlight touching all toenchantment, he had fully decided that he would not only hold the job, but on some future day he would be business manager. And he'd findthat lost mine or know the reason why, and he would---- For after all Kit Rhodes was only twenty-three and all of life aheadof him for dreams! He was wondering what he could fetch back from theEast that would be acceptable to a witchy elf of a butterfly girl whoalready had, to his simple estimate, all the requisites of a princessroyal. Juanito came loping past, and Rhodes asked for his father. "I am myself looking for him, " said the boy. "He has there on hishorse all the things for Tio Miguel, but Miguel not coming, and Iwonder who goes? Maybe it will be me. What you think?" he askedhopefully. Kit did not answer, for Juanito's mention of the articles for Miguelbrought from home by Tomas, and still fastened to the back of thesaddle, drew his attention to the articles tied there--some clothingbadly wrapped, a pair of black shoes tied together with brown strings, and under them, yet plainly visible, a canvas water bag. There was nothing unusual in a water bag or a canteen tied back of anysaddle in the dry lands, it was the sensible thing to do, but Kitfound himself staring at this particular water bag stupidly, remembering where he had seen it last. It had been only partly fullthen, but now it was plump and round as if water-filled; yet oneglance told him it was not wet, and moreover, he had noted the daybefore a hole in the side tied up in a hard knot by twine, and therewas the knot! Yet it might be a stock of _pinole_, parched corn, as evidence ofMiguel's forethought against privation on the long eastern trail. Hecould think of several reasonable things to account for an old waterbag tied to a Mexican's saddle, but reason did not prevent his glanceturning to it again and again. The fear in Narcisco's eyes came back to him, and his attempt to coverhis harmless playthings at the coming of the unexpected American. Hewondered---- "Say, Bub, I've got ten dollars to invest in some little trinket forBillie boy, and I want you to put it down in your jeans and invest itin whatever it will cover, " said Captain Pike at his elbow, clinkingthe silver coin meditatively. "You'll have time to see plentyattractive things for the money there in the streets of New York, orBaltimore, or whichever of the dock towns you'll be heading for. " Rhodes accepted the coin, absently frowning. "That's one of the dark secrets not yet divulged by this curiousmanagement, " he growled. "I'm to go, or so I was told, but have beengiven no instructions. Where's Singleton?" "Just rounded up for breakfast. " "Is he coming down here to the corrals?" "Not that I could notice. Pedro got in from the Junction with lastSunday's papers, and he and Billie have the picture sheets spreadaround, having a weekly feast. " Kit strode over to his mount, and then halted, glancing towards thehouse a half mile away, and then at the telephone poles along the widelane. "Say, there's a telephone somewhere down here at the works, connectingwith the hacienda, isn't there?" "Sure, in that hallway between the two adobes where the bunk houseends and offices begin. " Kit started briskly towards the long bunk house, and then turned toPike. "Do me a favor, Captain. Stay right there till I get back, and don'tlet anyone take that Herrara horse away, or his load!" "All right, but load!--why, the spotted rat hasn't got a load for ajack rabbit, load!" and Pike sniffed disdain at the little knobs ofbaggage dangling from the rawhide strings. He didn't think the subduedanimal needed watching--still, if Kit said so---- At the same time Kit was calling the house, and hearing in reply asoft whistle of the meadow lark, and then a girl's laugh. "Your music is good to listen to, Lark-child, " he called back, "andyour ears are perfectly good at telling who's who, but this is astrictly business day, and it is Mr. Singleton I need to speak with. " "Still holding your job, or asking for your time?" came the mockingvoice. "You bet I'm holding my job, also I am on it, and want the boss. " "Well, sometimes you know the boys call me the boss. What can we dofor you, Mr. Kit Rhodes?" "I'll use all three of my Spanish cuss words in a minute, if you don'tbe reasonable, " he thundered. "Is that a bribe?" came sweetly over the wire, and when he mutteredsomething impatiently, she laughed and told him it was not fair to useanother language when he had promised Spanish. "Listen to me, young lady, if I can't get Singleton on the wire I'llget on a horse and go up there!" "And you listen to me, young man, it wouldn't do you a bit of good, for just now he is nearly having a fit, and writing telegrams aboutsomething more important than the horse corrals. " "There is nothing more important this day and date, " insisted Kit. "Well, if you were as strictly a white dove advocate as Papa Singletonis, and as neutral, and then saw a full page Sunday supplement of yourpet picture fraulein, working for your pet charity and sifting poisoninto hospital bandages and powdered glass in jellies for the soldiersof the Allies, I reckon you would change your mind. " "Powdered glass!--in _feed_!" repeated Kit, stunned at the words andthe sudden thought they suggested. "Great God, girl, you don't haveto go to the eastern papers for _that_! You've got the same trickright here in Granados this minute! Why--damn you!" The receiver fell from his hand as a crushing blow was dealt him fromthe door at his back. He heard a girl's scream in the distance as hegrappled with Conrad and saved himself a second blow from theautomobile wrench in the manager's hands. It fell to the tiles betweenthem, and Rhodes kicked it to one side as he struck and struck againthe white, furious face of Conrad. "The wrench! Tomas, the wrench! Give it to him! The Americano wouldmurder me!" shouted Conrad. Tomas had other things to think of. He had heard as much as Conrad ofthe telephone discourse, and was aware of his pinto standing placidlynot fifty feet away, with all the damning evidence in the case tied tothe back of the saddle! Juanito, however, ran like a cat at his master's call and caught upthe wrench, but halted when Pike closed on his shoulder and pressed acold little circle of blue steel against his ribs. "Not this time, _muchacho_!" he shrilled, "drop it! This is a man'sgame, and you're out. " The men came running, and others attempted to interfere, but thelittle old man waved the gun at them and ordered them to keep theirdistance. "No crowding the mourners!" he admonished them gleefully. "I've ahunch your man started it, and my man will finish it. I don't knowwhat it's about, Kit, but give him hell on suspicion! Go to it, boy, --do it again! Who-ee!--that was a sock-dolager! Keep him offyou, Kit, he's a gouger, and has the weight. Give it to him standing, and give it to him good! That's it! Ki-yi! Hell's bells and thema-chiming!" For the finale of that whirl of the two striking, staggering, cursingmen, was unexpectedly dramatic. They had surged out into the open, butConrad, little by little and step by step, or rather stagger bystagger, had given way before the mallet-like precision of the youngerman's fists until Kit's final blow seemed actually to lift him off hisfeet and land him--standing--against the adobe wall. An instant hequivered there, and then fell forward, glassy eyed and limp. Singleton's car came whirling down the lane. Billie leaped from itbefore it stopped, and ran in horror to the prone figure. One of theolder Mexicans tried to ward her off from the sight. "No good, seņorita, it is the death of him, " he said gently. "Onestroke like that on the heart and it is--_adios_!" "What in the name of God--" began Singleton, and Kit wiped the bloodfrom his eyes and faced him, staggering and breathless. "Get him water! Get busy!" he ordered. "I don't think he's done for, not unless he has some mighty weak spot he should have had labelledbefore he waded into this. " The blood was still trickling from the cut in his head made by thewrench, and he presented an unholy appearance as they stared at him. "I'll explain, Singleton, for I reckon you are white. I'll--afterwhile----" "You'll explain nothing to me!" retorted Singleton "If the man diesyou'll explain to a jury and a judge; otherwise you'd better takeyourself out of this country. " Kit blinked at those who were lifting Conrad and listening to hisheart, which evidently had not stopped permanently. "But give me a chance, man!" persisted Rhodes. "I need some mendingdone on this head of mine, --then I'll clear it up. Why, the evidenceis right here--powdered glass for the stock at the far end of thetrail--Herrara knows--Conrad's game--and----" He did not know why words were difficult and the faces moved incircles about him. The blood soaking his shirt and blouse, anddripping off his sleeve was cause enough, but he did not even knowthat. "Take him away, Captain Pike, " said Singleton coldly. "He is notwanted any longer on either of the ranches. It's the last man I hire, Conrad can do it in future. " "Conrad, eh?" grunted Kit weakly, "you're a nice easy mark for thefrankfurter game, --you and your pacifist bunch of near-traitors! Whyman----" But Singleton waved him away, and followed the men who were carryingConrad to the bunk house. "All right, _all_ right! But take care you don't meet with a nastieraccident than that before you are done with this game!" he saidshaking his fist warningly after Singleton, and then he staggered tohis horse where Pike was waiting for him. He got in the saddle, and reeled there a moment, conscious of hostile, watchful eyes, --and one girl's face all alone in the blur. "Say, " he said, "I heard you scream. You thought it was you I sworeat. You're wrong there. But you are some little prophetess, --_you_are! The job's gone, and Herrara's got away with the evidence, and thejig's up! But it wasn't you I cussed at--not--at--all! Come on, Pike. This new ventilator in my head is playing hell its own way. Comeon--let's go by-bye!" CHAPTER IV IN THE ADOBE OF PEDRO VIJIL "There ain't no such animal, " decided Kit Rhodes seated on the edge ofthe bed in Pedro Vigil's adobe. His head was bandaged, his face atrifle pale and the odor of medicaments in the shadowy room of the onedeep-barred window. "No, Captain, no man, free, white and twenty-one_could_ be such a fool. Can't Singleton see that if Conrad's story wastrue he'd have the constable after me for assault with intent to kill?He's that sort!" "Well, Singleton thinks Conrad would be justified in having youprosecuted, and jailed, and fined, and a few other things, but for thereputation of Granados they let you down easy. You know it's _the_dovery for the Pass-up-the-fists of this section, and what the Arizonapapers would do would be comic if they ever got hold of the fact thatSingleton picked a new bird for the dove cage, and the dratted thingchanged before their eyes to a fractious game rooster swinging a rightlike the hind leg of a mule! No, Bub, we're orderly, peaceable folksaround here, so for the sake of our reputation Singleton has prevailedon his manager to be merciful to you, and Conrad has in true pacifistspirit let himself be prevailed upon. " "Which means, " grinned Kit, "that I'm to be put off my guard, and donefor nicely and quietly some moonless night when I take the trail! Andhe reports me either drunk or temporarily insane, does he? Well, whenthe next time comes I'll change that gentleman's mind. " "Shucks, Bub! Thank a fool's luck that your skull was only scratched, and don't go planning future wars. I tell you we are peace dovesaround here, and you are a stray broncho kicking up an undesirabledust in our front yard. Here is your coin. Singleton turned it over tome and I receipted for it, and we have enough between us to hit theSonora trail, and there's not a bit of use in your hanging aroundhere. You have no evidence. You are a stranger who ambled in, heard asensational newspaper report of anti-ally criminal intent, and on thespot accused the highly respectable Granados rancho of indulging inthat same variety of hellishness! Now there is your case in anutshell, Bub, and you wouldn't get the authorities to believe you ina thousand years!" "What about you?" "Oh, I have just little enough sense to believe your hunch is right, but that won't get you anywhere. They think I'm loco too! I've an ideathere is a lot more and rottener activities down south of the linewith which our Teutonic peace arbitrator is mixed up. But he's been onthis job five years, all the trails are his, and an outsider can't geta look-in! Now Miguel Herrara has been doing gun-running across theborder for someone, and Miguel was not only arrested by the customsofficer, but Miguel was killed two nights ago--shot with his own gunso that it looks like suicide. Suicide nothing! His chief, whoever heis, was afraid Miguel would blunder or weaken under governmentpersuasion, so Miguel was let out of the game. That case is closed, and no evidence against anyone. I reckon everyone knows that the gunsand ammunition sneaked over is headed for Rancho Soledad. The owner ofSoledad, José Perez, is the valued friend of our nice little Conrad, and it happens that Conrad left Granados this morning for thatdirection, ostensibly to negotiate with the political powers of Sonoraconcerning a military guard for La Partida in case revolutionarystragglers should ride north for fresh saddle-horses. All appeals tothe neutral chair warmers at Washington wins us no protection fromthat source;--they only have guns and men enough to guard somecherished spots in Texas. " "Well, if the Teuton is able for a trail I reckon he got nothing worsein the scrap than I, even if he did look like a job for theundertaker. That fellow travels on the strength of his belly and notthe strength of his heart. " "So you say, " observed Pike, grinning, "but then again there areothers of us who travel on nerve and gall and never get any further!Just put this in your pipe, Bub, and don't forget it: Conrad is_organised_ for whatever deviltry he is up to! There is no 'happen so'in his schemes. He is a cog in some political wheel, and it's afifty-fifty gamble as to whether the wheel is German or Mexican, butit is no little thing, and is not to be despised. " "But I can't see how Singleton, if Singleton is square even----" "Singleton is a narrow gauge disciple of Universal Peace bydecree--which, translated, means plain damn fool. Lord, boy, if a packof prairie wolves had a man surrounded, would he fold his hands withthe hope that his peaceful attitude would appeal to their betterinstincts or would he reach for a gun and give them protective pills?The man of sense never goes without his gun in wolf land, butSingleton--well, in peace times he could have lived a long lifetime, and no one ever guessed what a weak sister he was, but he's sure outof place on the border. " "I'm tired wearing this halo, " observed Rhodes, referring to the whitehandkerchief around his head. "Also some of the dope you gave me seemsto be evaporating from my system, and I feel like hitting the Pimanbreeze. Can we strike trail tomorrow?" "We cannot. Doņa Luz has been dosing out the dope for you--Mexicanwomen are natural doctors with their own sort of herbs--and she saysthree days before you go in the sun. I've a notion she sort of let theMexicans think that you were likely to cash in, and you bled so like astuck pig that it was easy enough to believe the worst. " "Perhaps that's why Conrad felt safe in leaving me outside of jail. With Doņa Luz as doctor, and a non-professional like you as assistant, I reckon he thought my chance of surviving that monkey wrench assaultwas slim, mighty slim!" "Y--yes, " agreed Pike, "under ordinary conditions he might have beenjustified in such surmise, but that would be figuring on the normalthickness of the normal civilized skull, but yours--why, Bub, all I'mpuzzling over now is how it happens that the monkey wrench was onlytwisted a mite, not broke at all!" "You scandalous old varmint!" grinned Kit. "Go on with your weak-mindedamusements, taking advantage of a poor lone cripple, --refused by thearmy, and a victim of the latest German atrocity! I suppose--Isuppose, "--he continued darkly, "everyone on and around Granados agreesthat I was the villain in the assault?" "I couldn't say as to that, " returned Pike judicially. "Doņa Luz woulddose you, and plaster you, just the same if you had killed a halfdozen instead of knocking the wind out of one. She's pretty fine andall woman, but naturally since they regard you as my _companero_ theyare shy about expressing themselves when I'm around--all exceptSingleton--and you heard him. " "Good and plenty, " agreed Kit. "Say, I'm going to catch up on sleepwhile I've a chance, and you rustle along and get any tag ends ofthings needed for the trail. I'm going to strike for Mesa Blanca, asthat will take us up into the country of that Alisal mine. If we gobroke there is Mesa Blanca ranch work to fall back on for a grubstake, but from what I hear we can dry wash enough to buy corn andflour, and the hills are full of burro meat. We'll browse around untilwe either strike it rich, or get fed up with trying. Anyway, _Companero_, we will be in a quiet, peaceful pastoral land, close tonature, and out of reach of Teuton guile and monkey wrenches. _Buenasnoches_, seņor. I'm asleep!" Pike closed the door, and went from the semi-dark of the adobe outinto the brilliant sunshine where Billie, with a basket, was waitingunder the _ramada_ with Merced, and Merced looked gloomy lest Pedroshould be blamed by Seņor Singleton for practically turning his familyout of the adobe that it might be given over to the loco Americano. "Tomorrow, can he go?" she asked hopefully. "Me, I have a fear. Notbefore is the adobe here watched by hidden men at night, and that isvery bad! Because that he is friend to you I say to everybody that Ithink the Americano is dying in our house, but today he talks, also heis laughing. No more sick?" "No more sick, sure not, but it will be one more day. A man does notbleed like a gored bull and ride the next day under a sky hot enoughto fry eggs. The tea of Doņa Luz drove off the fever, and he onlysleeps and talks, and sleeps again, but sick? Not a bit!" "Nor--nor sorry, I reckon?" ventured Billie. "Why, no child, not that I could notice. That scalawag doesn't seem tohave much conscience concerning his behavior. " "Or his language!" she added. "Sure, that was some invocation he offered up! But just between pals, Billie, you ought to have been in hearing. " "I--I don't suppose he even remembers that I was, " she remarked, andthen after a silence, "or--or even mentioned--us?" "Why, no, Billie. You made the right guess when you sized him up andthought he couldn't hold the job. He certainly doesn't belong, Billie, for this ranch is the homing nest of the peace doves, and he's just anungainly young game rooster starting out with a dare against theworld, and only himself for a backer. Honest, --if that misguided youthhad been landed in jail, I don't reckon there's anyone in Arizona withlittle enough sense to bail him out. " "Likely not, " said Billie. "Well, there's the basket from Tia Luz, andI might as well go home. " CHAPTER V AN "ADIOS"--AND AFTER Two days later in the blue clear air of the Arizona morning a sage henslipped with her young through the coarse grass by the irrigationditch, and a flock of quail raised and fluttered before the quickrhythmic beat of a loping horse along the trail in the mesquitethicket. The slender gallant figure of his rider leaned forward looking, listening at every turn, and at the forks of the trail where a clumpof squat mesquite and giant sahuarro made a screen, she checked thehorse, and held her breath. "Good Pat, good horse!" she whispered. "They've got nothing that canrun away from us. We'll show them!" Then a man's quavering old voice came to her through the winding trailof the arroya. It was lifted tunefully insistent in an old-time songof the mining camps: _Oh, Mexico! we're coming, Mexico! Our six mule team, Will soon be seen, On the trail to Mexico!_ "We made it, Pat!" confided the girl grimly. "We made it. Quietnow--quiet!" She peered out through the green mesquite as Captain Pike emerged fromthe west arroya on a gray burro, herding two other pack animals aheadof him into the south trail. He rode jauntily, his old sombrero at a rakish angle, his eyes brightwith enthusiasm supplied by that which he designated as a morning"bracer, " and his long gray locks bobbed in the breeze as he swayed inthe saddle and droned his cheerful epic of the trail: _A--and when we've been there long enough, And back we wish to go, We'll fill our pockets with the shining dust And then leave Mexico! Oh--Mexico! Good-bye my Mexico! Our six mule team will then be seen On the trail from Mexico. _ "Hi there! you Balaam--get into the road and keep a-going, you ornerylittle rat-tailed son-of-a-gun! Pick up your feet and travel, or I'llyank out your back bone and make a quirt out of it! For----" _My name was Captain Kidd as I sailed As I sailed, My name was Captain Kidd, As I sailed! My name was Captain Kidd And most wickedly I di-i-id All holy laws forbid As I sailed!_ The confessor of superlative wickedness droned his avowal indiminishing volume as the burros pattered along the white dust of thevalley road, then the curve to the west hid them, and all was silencebut for the rustle of the wind in the mesquite and the far bay ofSingleton's hounds circling a coyote. But Pat pricked up his ears, and lifted his head as if feeling ratherthan hearing the growing thud of coming hoofs. The girl waited untilthey were within fifty feet, when she pursed up her lips and whistledthe call of the meadow lark. It sounded like a fairy bugle call acrossthe morning, and the roan was halted quickly at the forks of theroad. "Howdy, seņorita?" he called softly. "I can't see you, but your songbeats the birds. Got a flag of truce? Willing to parley with theenemy?" Then she emerged, eyeing him sulkily. "You were going without seeing me!" she stated with directness, andwithout notice of the quizzical smile of comradeship. "Certainly was, " he agreed. "When I got through the scrap with yourdisciple of _kultur_, my mug didn't strike me as the right decorationfor a maiden's bower. I rode out of the scrap with my scratches, taking joy and comfort in the fact that he had to be carried. " "There was no reason for your being so--so brutal!" she decidedausterely. "Lord love you, child, I didn't need a reason--I only wanted anexcuse. Give me credit! I got away for fear I'd go loco and smashSingleton for interfering. " "Papa Phil only did his duty, standing for peace. " "Huh, let the Neutral League do it! The trouble with Singleton is hehasn't brains enough to lubricate a balance wheel, --he can't savvy asituation unless he has it printed in a large-type tract. Conrad wasscared for fear I'd stumbled on a crooked trail of his and would tellthe boss, so he beat me to it with the lurid report that I made anassault on him! This looks like it--not!" and he showed the slashes inhis sombrero to make room for the blue banda around his head. "Supposeyou tell that Hun of yours to carry a gun like a real hombre insteadof the tools of a second-story man. The neighbors could hear a gun, and run to my rescue. " The girl regarded his flippancy with disapproval. "He isn't my Hun, " she retorted. "I could worry along without him onour map, --but after all, I don't know a single definite thing againsthim. Anyway, it's decided I've got to go away somewhere to school andbe out of the ranch squabbles. Papa Phil thinks I get in bad companyout here. " "Meaning me?" "Well, he _said_ Captain Pike was demoralizing to the youthful mind. He didn't mention you. And Cap certainly did go the limit yesterday!" "How so?" "Well, he went to the Junction for his outfit stuff----" "Yes, and never showed up at the adobe until the morning star was inthe sky!" [Illustration: "You poor kid, you have a hard time with the disreputablesyou pick up. "] "I know, " she confessed. "I went with him. We stayed to see a Hartpicture at the theater, and had the time of our young lives. At supperI announced that I was going to adopt Cap as a grandfather, --and thenof course he had to go and queer me by filling up on some rank whiskeyhe had smuggled in with the other food! My stars!--he was put to bedsinging that he'd 'Hang his harp on a willow tree, and be off to thewars again'--You needn't laugh!" But he did laugh, his blue eyes twinkling at her recital. "You poor kid! You have a hard time with the disreputables you pickup. Sure they didn't warn you against speaking to this reprobate?" "Sure nothing!" was the boyish reply. "I was to be docked a month'sspending money if I dared go near Pedro Vijil's adobe again while youwere there, which was very foolish of Papa Phil!" she addedjudicially. "I reckon he forgot they tried that before. " "And what happened?" "I went down and borrowed double the amount from old Estevan, thetrader at the Junction, and gave him an order against the ranch. ThenCap and I sneaked out a couple of three-year-olds and raced them downin the cottonwood flats against some colts brought down by an oldSierra Blanca Apache. We backed our nags with every peso, and that oldbrown murderer won! But Cap and I had a wonderful day while our coinlasted, and--and you were going away without saying good-bye!" Kit Rhodes, who had blankly stated that he owned his horse and saddleand little beyond, looked at the spoiled plucky heiress of Granadosranches, and the laughter went out of his eyes. She was beyond reason loveable even in her boyish disdain ofrestriction, and some day she would come back from the schools a veryfinished product, and thank the powers that be for having sent her outof knowledge of happy-go-lucky chums of the ranges. Granados ranches had been originally an old Spanish grant reachingfrom a branch of the intermittent Rio Altar north into what is nowArizona, and originally was about double the size of Rhode Island. Itwas roughly divided into the home or hacienda ranch in Arizona, and LaPartida, the cattle range portion, reaching far south into Sonora. Even the remnant of the grant, if intelligently managed, would earn anincome satisfactory for a most extravagant princess royal such as itspresent chatelaine seemed to Rhodes. But he had noted dubiously that the management was neither intelligentnor, he feared, square. The little rancherias scattered over it in thefertile valleys, were worked on the scratch gravel, ineffective Mexicmethod by the Juans and Pedros whose family could always count onmesquite beans, and _camotes_ if the fields failed. There was seed tobuy each year instead of raising it. There was money invested infarming machinery, and a bolt taken at will from a thresher to mend aplow or a buggy as temporarily required. The flocks of sheep on theArizona hills were low grade. The cattle and horse outfits were southin La Partida, and the leakage was beyond reason, even in a dangerzone of the border land. All this Kit had milled around and around many times in the briefwhile he had ranged La Partida. A new deal was needed and neededbadly, else Wilfreda Bernard would have debts instead of revenue ifSingleton let things drift much longer. Her impish jest that she wasa damsel in distress in need of a valiant knight was nearer to truththan she suspected. He had an idiotic hungry desire to be that knight, but his equipment of one horse, one saddle, and one sore head appearedinadequate for the office. Thus Kit Rhodes sat his horse and looked at her, and saw things otherthan the red lips of the girl, and the chiding gray eyes, and thefrank regret at his going. It was more profitable not to see that regret, or let it thrill a manin that sweet warm way, especially not if the man chanced to be adrifting ranger. She was only a gallant little girl with a genius forfriendships, and her loyalty to Pike extended to Pike's chum--that waswhat Rhodes told himself! "Yes, " he agreed, "I was going without any tooting of horns. No use inCap Pike and me hanging around, and getting you in bad with youroutfit. " "As if I care!" she retorted. "You might some day, " he said quietly. "School may make a lot ofdifference; that, and changed surroundings for a year or two. But someday you will be your own manager, and if I'm still on the footstooland can be of service--just whistle, seņorita. " "Sure!" she agreed cheerfully. "I'll whistle the lark call, and you'llknow I need you, so that's settled, and we'll always be--be friends, Trail-hunter. " "We'll always be friends, Lark-child. " "I wanted Cap Pike to let me in on this prospecting trip, wanted toput in money, " she said rather hesitant, "and he turned me down cold, except for a measly ten dollars, 'smoke money' he called it. I reckonhe only took that to get rid of me, which I don't call friendly, doyou? And if things should go crooked with him, and he--well--sort ofneeds help to get out, you'll let me know, won't you?" "Yes, if it seems best, " he agreed, "but you won't be here; you'll beshipped to a school, _pronto_!" "I won't be so far off the map that a letter can't reach me. Cap Pikewon't ever write, but I thought maybe you----" "Sure, " agreed Rhodes easily. "We'll send out a long yell for helpwhenever we get stuck. " She eyed him darkly and without faith. "Wish I knew how to make that certain, " she confessed. "You're onlydodging me with any kind of a promise to keep me quiet, just as Capdid. I know! I'm jealous, too, because you're taking a trail I'vealways wanted to take with Cap, and they won't let me because I'm agirl. " "Cheer up! When you are boss of the range you can outfit any little_pasear_ you want to take, but you and I won't be in the same classthen, Lark-child. " "Are you really going it blind, trailing with Cap into the PaintedHills after that fascinating gold legend?" she demanded. "Or have yousome inside trail blazed for yourself? Daddy Pike is the best ever, but he always goes broke, and if he isn't broke, he has a jug at hissaddle horn, so----" "Oh it's only a little jug this time, and he's had a fare-you-welldrink out of it with everyone in sight, so there's only one hilariousevening left in the jug now. Just enough for a gladsome memory ofcivilization. " "Are you in deep on this prospect plan?" she persisted. "Well, not that you could notice. That is, I've got a three months'job offered me down at Whitely's; that will serve the captain asheadquarters to range from until we add to our stake. Whitely isrounding up stock for the Allies down Mesa Blanca way, and Pike willfeel at home there. Don't you worry, I'll keep an eye on Pike. He ishilariously happy to get into that region with a partner. " "I don't like it, " she grumbled at him with sulky gray eyes. "PedroVijil just came back from the south, and brought his sister's familyfrom San Rafael. They're refugees from the Federals because their menjoined Ramon Rotil, the rebel leader, and Merced is crying herselfcrazy over the tales of war they tell. One of their girls was stolen, and the mother and Tia Luz are both crying over that. So Papa Philsays he's going to send me away where I won't hear such horrors. Iwish I was a man, and I'd join the army and get a chance to go overand fight. " "Huh!" grunted Rhodes skeptically, "some more of us had hopes! Ourarmy officers are both praying and cursing to get a chance to do thesame thing, but they are not getting it! So you and I, little girl, will wait till some one pitches a bomb into that dovery on thePotomac. Then we'll join the volunteers and swarm over after ourpeople. " "Oh, yes, _you_ can! Men can do anything they like. I told you I wasjealous. " "Never mind, Lark-child, " he returned soothingly. "If I get over witha gun, you can come along and toot a horn. There now, that's abargain, and you can practice tooting the lark's call until the timecomes. " "I reckon I'll have plenty of time to toot myself black in the facebefore you show up again at Granados, " she prophesied ruefully, and helaughed. "Whistle an' I'll come to you, Lassie, " he said with suddenrecklessness, "and that's for _adios_, Billie. " He held out his hand. "That's enough, Rhodes, " said a voice back of them, and Singletonwalked forward. "When you got your time, you were supposed to leaveGranados. Is this what you've been hanging around for during the pastweek?" Rhodes flamed red to his hair as he stared down at the elder man. "I reckon I'll not answer that now, Mr. Singleton, " he said quietly. "You may live to see you made a mistake. I hope you do, but you'retraveling with a rotten bunch, and they are likely to use a knife or arope on you any time you've played the goat long enough for them toget their innings. I'm going without any grudge, but if I was aninsurance agent, trying to save money for my company, I'd sure passyou by as an unsafe bet! Keep on this side of the line, Singleton, while the revolution is whirling, and whatever you forget, don'tforget I said it! _Adios_, seņorita, and--good luck!" "Good luck, Kit, " she half whispered, "and _adios_!" She watched him as he rode away, watched him as he halted at the turnof the trail and waved his hand, and Singleton was quietly observingher the while. She frowned as she turned and caught him at it. "You thought he waited here, or planned to--to meet me, " she flared. "He was too square to tell you the truth, but it was I rode out hereto say good-bye, rode out and held him up! But I did not reckon anyonewould try to insult him for it!" Her stepfather regarded her grimly. She was angry, and very near totears. "Time you had your breakfast, " he observed, "and all signs indicate Ishould have sent you East last year, and kept you out of thepromiscuous mixups along the border. It's the dumping ground for allsorts of stray adventurers, and no place for a girl to ride alone. " "He seemed to think I am as able to look after myself as you, " sheretorted. "You aren't fair to him because you take the word of Conrad, but Conrad lies, and I'm glad he got thrashed good and plenty! NowI've got that off my mind, I'll go eat a cheerful breakfast. " Singleton walked silent beside her back to where his horse was grazingby the roadside. "Huh!" grunted the girl with frank scorn. "So you got out of thesaddle to spy? Haven't you some black-and-tan around the ranch to doyour dirty work?" "It's just as well to be civil till you know what you are talkingabout, " he reminded her with a sort of trained patience. "I came outwithout my breakfast just to keep the ranchmen from thinking what TiaLuz thinks. She told me I'd find that fellow waiting for you. I didn'tbelieve it, but I see she is not so far wrong. " He spoke without heat or feeling, and his tone was that of quietdiscussion with a man or boy, not at all that of a guardian to a girl. His charge was evidently akin to the horse ranch of Granados asdescribed by the old ranger: Singleton had acquired them, but neverunderstood them. "Look here, " said his protégée with boyish roughness, "that Dutchmansees everything crooked, especially if there's an American in range, and he prejudices you. Why don't you wake up long enough to noticethat he's framing some excuse to run off every decent chap who comeson the place? I knew Rhodes was too white to be let stay. I saw thatas soon as he landed, and I told him so! What I can't understand isthat you won't see it. " "A manager has to have a free hand, Billie, or else be let go, "explained Singleton. "Conrad knows horses, he knows the market, and isat home with the Mexicans. Also he costs less than we used to pay, andthat is an item in a bad year. " "I'll bet we lose enough cattle to his friends to make up thedifference, " she persisted. "Rhodes was right when he called them arotten bunch. " "Let us hope that when you return from school you will have lost themajor portion of your unsavory vocabulary, " he suggested. "That willbe worth a herd of cattle. " "It would be worth another herd to see you wake up and show you hadone good fight in you!" she retorted. "Conrad has all of the ranchoutfit locoed but me; that's why he passes on this school notion toyou. He wants me out of sight. " "I should have been more decided, and insisted that you go last year. Heaven knows you need it badly enough, " sighed Singleton, ignoring herdisparaging comment on his own shortcomings. And then as they rodeunder the swaying fronds of the palm drive leading to the ranch househe added, "Those words of your bronco busting friend concerning thelife insurance risk sounded like a threat. I wonder what he meant byit?" The telephone bell on the Granados Junction line was ringing when theyentered the patio. Singleton glanced at the clock. "A night letter probably, " he remarked. "Go get your coffee, child, it's a late hour for breakfast. " Billie obeyed, sulkily seating herself opposite Tia Luz--who was boltupright behind the coffee urn, with a mien expressing dignifieddisapproval. She inhaled a deep breath for forceful speech, but Billiewas ahead of her. "So it was you! You were the spy, and sent him after me!" "_Madre de Dios!_ and why not?" demanded the competent Luz. "Youstealing your own horse at the dawn to go with the old Captain Pike. Iask of you what kind of a girl is that? Also Mercedes was here lastnight tearing her hair because of the girls, her sister's daughters, stolen away over there in Sonora. Well! is that not enough? That SeņorKit is also too handsome. I was a fool to send the medicine with youto Pedro's house. He looked a fine caballero but even a fine caballerowill take a girl when she follows after. _I_ know! And once in Sonoraall trails of a girl are lost. I know that too!" "You are all crazy, and I never saw him at Pedro's house, never!" saidthe girl reaching for her coffee, and then suddenly she began tolaugh. "Did you think, did you make Papa Philip think, that I waseloping like this?" and she glanced down at her denim riding dress. "And why not? Did I myself not steal out in a shift and petticoat thefirst time I tried to run away with my Andreas? And beyond that not athing under God had I on but my coral beads, and the red satinslippers of my sister Dorotea! She pulled my hair wickedly for thoseslippers, and I got a _reata_ on my back from my grandmother for thatrunning away. I was thirteen years old then! But when I was nearlysixteen we did get away, Andreas and I, and after that it was as wellfor the grandmother to pay a priest for us, and let us alone. Ai-ji!seņorita, I am not forgetting what I know! And while I am here inGranados there must be nothing less than a grand marriage, and may thesaints send the right man, for a wrong one makes hell in any house!" Billie forgot her sulkiness in her joy at the elopements of Tia Luz. No wonder she distrusted an American girl who was allowed to ridealone! But in the midst of her laughter she was reminded that Singleton wasstill detained at the telephone in the adjoining room, and that hisrather high-pitched tones betrayed irritation. "Well, why can't you give the telegram to me? Addressed to Conrad? Ofcourse if it's a personal message I don't want it, but you say it is aranch matter--and important. Horses? What about them?" Billie, listening, sped from the table to his side, and putting herhand over the telephone, whispered: "If Brehman, the secretary, was here, they'd give it to him. Theyalways do. " Singleton nodded to her, and grew decided. "See here, Webster, one of our men was hurt, and Brehman took hisplace and went East with that horse shipment. Mr. Conrad had to godown in Sonora on business, and I am the only one here to take hisplace. Just give me the message as you would give it to the secretary. But you'd better type a copy and send by mail that I can put it onfile. All right? Yes, go ahead. " Billie had quickly secured paper and pencil, but instead of takingthem, Singleton motioned for her to write the message. Adolf Conrad, Granados Ranch, Granados Junction, Arizona. Regret to report September shipment horses developed ailment aboard vessel, fifty per cent dead, balance probably of no military use, OGDEN, BURNS & CO. Word by word Singleton took the message and word by word Billie wroteit down, while they stared at each other. "Developed ailment aboard vessel!" repeated Singleton. "Then there wassomething wrong on shipboard, for there certainly is not here. We haveno sick horses on the ranch, never do have!" "But these people?" and Billie pointed to the signature. "Oh, they are the men who buy stock for the Allies, agents for theFrench. They paid for the horses on delivery. They are safe, substantial people. I can't understand----" But Billie caught his arm with a gasp of horror and enlightenment. "Papa Phil! Think--_think_ what Kit Rhodes said! _'Ground glass in thefeed at the other end of the road! Conrad's game--Herrara knows!'_Papa Phil, --Miguel Herrara was killed--killed! And Conrad tried tokill Kit! Oh he did, he did! None of the Mexicans thought he would getwell, but Tia Luz cured him. And Cap Pike never went out of sight ofthat adobe until Conrad had left the ranch, and I know Kit was right. I know it, I know it! Oh, my horses, my beautiful horses!" "There, there! Why, child you're hysterical over this, which is--istoo preposterous for belief!" "Nothing is too preposterous for belief. You know that. Everybodyknows it in these days! Is Belgium too preposterous? Is that record ofpoison and powdered glass in hospital supplies too preposterous? In_hospital_ supplies! If they do that to wounded men, why not tocavalry horses? Why Papa Phil----" "Hush--hush--hush!" he said pacing the floor, clasping his head inboth hands. "It is too terrible! What can we do? What? Who dare wetrust to even help investigate?" "Well, you might wire those agents for particulars, this is ratherskimpy, " suggested Billie. "Come and get some breakfast and think itover. " "I might wire the office of the Peace Society in New York to----" "Don't you do it!" protested Billie. "They may have furnished thepoison for all _you_ know! Cap Pike says they are a lot of traitors, and Cap is wise in lots of things. You telegraph, and you tell themthat if the sickness is proven to have started in Granados, that wewill pay for every dead horse, tell them we have no sick horses here, and ask them to answer, _pronto!_" "That seems rather reckless, child, to pay for all----" "I _am_ reckless! I am crazy mad over those horses, and over Conrad, and over Kit whom he tried to kill!" "Tut--tut! The language and behavior of Rhodes was too wicked foranyone to believe him innocent. He was a beastly looking object, and Istill believe him entirely in the wrong. This loss of the horses isdeplorable, but you will find that no one at Granados is to blame. " "Maybe so, but you just send that telegram and see what we see!" CHAPTER VI A DEAD MAN UNDER THE COTTONWOODS Billie was never out of hearing of the telephone all day, and at twoo'clock the reply came. PHILIP SINGLETON, Rancho Granados, Arizona. Kindly wire in detail the source of your information. No message went to Granados from this office. No publicity has been given to the dead horse situation. Your inquiry very important to the Department of Justice. OGDEN, BURNS & CO. "Very strange, very!" murmured Singleton. "No matter how hard I think, or from what angle, I can't account for it. Billie, this is toointricate for me. The best thing I can do is to go over to Nogales andtalk to an attorney. " "Go ahead and talk, " agreed Billie, "but I'd answer that telegramfirst. This is no township matter, Papa Phil, can't you see that?" "Certainly, certainly, but simply because of that fact I feel I shouldhave local advice. I have a legal friend in Nogales. If I could gethim on the wire----" An hour later when Billie returned from a ride, she realized Singletonhad gotten his friend on the wire, for she heard him talking. "Yes, this is Granados. Is that you, James? Yes, I asked them to haveyou call me. I need to consult with you concerning a rather seriousmatter. Yes, so serious I may say it is mysterious, and appalling. Itconcerns a shipment of horses. Conrad is in Sonora, and this subjectcan't wait--no, I can't get in touch with Conrad. He is out ofcommunication when over there--No, I can't wait his return. I've had awire from Ogden and Burns, New York--said Ogden and Burns--All right, get a pencil; I'll hold the wire. " There was a moment of silence, and if a telephonic camera had beeninstalled at Granados, Mr. Singleton might have caught a veryinteresting picture at the other end of the wire. A middle-aged man in rusty black of semi-clerical cut held thereceiver, and the effect of the names as given over the wire was, toput it mildly, electrical. His jaw dropped and he stared across thetable at a man who was seated there. At the repetition of the name, the other arose, and with the stealthily secretive movement of acoyote near its prey he circled the table, and drew a chair close tothe telephone. The pencil and paper was in his hand, not in that of"James. " That other was Conrad. Then the telephone conversation was resumed after Mr. Singleton hadbeen requested to speak a little louder--there seemed some flaw in theconnection. In the end Singleton appeared much comforted to get the subject offhis own shoulders by discussing it with another. But he had beenconvinced that the right thing to do was to motor over to the Junctionand take the telegrams with him for consultation. He would startabout eight in the morning, and would reach the railroad by noon. Yes, by taking the light car which he drove himself it would be an easymatter. Billie heard part of this discourse in an absent-minded way, for shewas not at all interested as to what some strange lawyer in Nogalesmight think of the curious telegrams. She would have dropped some of that indifference if she had been ableto hear the lurid language of Conrad after the receiver was hung up. James listened to him in silence for a bit, and then said: "It's your move, brother! There are not supposed to be any mistakes inthe game, and you have permitted our people to wire you a victory whenyou were not there to get the wire, and that was a mistake. " "But Brehman always----" "You sent Brehman East and for once forgot what might happen with youroffice empty. No, --it is not Singleton's fault; he did the naturalthing. It is not the operator's fault; why should he not give amessage concerning horses to the proprietor of the horse ranch?" "But Singleton never before made a move in anything of management, letters never opened, telegrams filed but never answers sent until Iam there! And this time! It is that most cursed Rhodes, I know it isthat one! They told me he was high in fever and growing worse, andluck with me! So you yourself know the necessity that I go over forthe Sonora conference--there was no other way. It is that Rhodes! Yes, I know it, and they told me he was as good as dead--God! if again Iget him in these hands!" He paced the floor nervously, and flung out his clenched hands infury, and the quiet man watched him. "That is personal, and is for the future, " he said, "but Singleton isnot a personal matter. If he lives he will be influenced toinvestigation, and that must not be. It would remove you fromGranados, and you are too valuable at that place. You must hold thatpoint as you would hold a fort against the enemy. When Mexico joinswith Germany against the damned English and French, this fool mushroomrepublic will protest, and that is the time our friends will sweepover from Mexico and gather in all these border states--which wereonce hers--and will again be hers through the strong mailed hand ofGermany! This is written and will be! When that day comes, we needsuch points of vantage as Granados and La Partida; we must have them!You have endangered that position, and the mistake won't be wiped out. The next move is yours, Conrad. " The quiet man in the habiliments of shabby gentility in that barelittle room with the American flag over the door and portraits of twoor three notable advocates of World Peace and the American League ofNeutrality on the wall, had all the outward suggestion of the smalltown disciple of Socialism from the orthodox viewpoint. His manner wascarefully restrained, and his low voice was very even, but at his lastwords Conrad who had dropped into a seat, his head in his hands, suddenly looked up, questioning. "Singleton can probably do no more harm today, " went on the quietvoice. "I warned him it would be a mistake to discuss it until afterhe had seen me. He starts at eight in the morning, alone, for therailroad but probably will not reach there. " He looked at his watchthoughtfully. "The Tucson train leaves in fifty minutes. You can getthat. Stop off at the station where Brehman's sister is waitress. Shewill have his car ready, that will avoid the Junction. It will berough work, Conrad, but it is your move. It is an order. " And then before that carefully quiet man who had the appearance of amodest country person, Adolf Conrad suddenly came to his feet inmilitary salute. "Come, we will talk it over, " suggested his superior. "It will berough, yet necessary, and if it could appear suicide, eh? Well, wewill see. We--will--see!" * * * * * At seven in the morning the Granados telephone bell brought Singletoninto the patio in his dressing gown and slippers. And Doņa Luz who wasseeing that his breakfast was served, heard him express surprise andthen say: "Why, certainly. If you are coming this way as far on the road as theJefferson ranch of course we can meet there, and I only need to gohalf way. That will be excellent. Yes, and if Judge Jefferson is athome he may be able to help with his advice. Fine! Good-bye. " When Doņa Luz was questioned about it later she was quite sure Mr. Singleton mentioned no name, his words were as words to a friend. But all that day the telephone was out of order on the Granados line, and Singleton did not return that night. There was nothing to causequestion in that, as he had probably gone on to Nogales, but when thesecond day came and the telephone not working, Billie started PedroVijil to ride the line to Granados Junction, get the mail, and have aline man sent out for repairs wherever they were needed. It was puzzling because there had been no storm, nothing of which theyknew to account for the silent wire. The line was an independent onefrom the Junction, and there were only two stations on it, theJefferson ranch and Granados. But Vijil forgot about the wire, for he met some sheep men from thehills carrying the body of Singleton. They had found him in thecottonwoods below the road not five miles from the hacienda. His carhe had driven off the road back of a clump of thick mesquite. Therevolver was still in his hand, and the right temple covered withblack blood and flies. There was nothing better to do than what the herders were doing. Theman had been dead a day and must be buried, also it was necessary tosend a man to Jefferson's, where there was a telephone, to get intouch with someone in authority and arrange for the funeral. So the herders walked along with their burden carried in a _serape_, and covered by the carriage robe. Pedro had warned them to halt at hisown house, for telephone calls would certainly gather men, who wouldhelp to arrange all decently before the body was taken into the _sala_of Granados. There is not much room for conjecture as to the means of a man'staking off when he is found with a bullet in his right temple, arevolver in his right hand, and only one empty cartridge shell in therevolver. There seemed no mystery about the death, except the cause ofsuicide. It was the same evening that Conrad riding in from the south, attempted to speak over the wire with Granados and got from Centralinformation that the Granados wire was broken, and Singleton, theproprietor, a suicide. The coroner's inquest so pronounced it, after careful investigation ofthe few visible facts. Conrad was of no value as a witness because hehad been absent in Magdalena. He could surmise no reason for such anact, but confessed he knew practically nothing of Singleton's personalaffairs. He was guardian of his stepdaughter and her estate, and sofar as Conrad knew all his relations with the personnel of the estatewere most amicable. Conrad acknowledged when questioned that Singletondid usually carry a revolver when out in the car, he had a horror ofsnakes, and he had never known him to use a gun for anything else. Doņa Luz Moreno confused matters considerably by her statement thatMr. Singleton was going to meet some man at the Jefferson ranchbecause the man had called him up before breakfast to arrange it. Later it was learned that no call was made from any station over thewire that morning to Granados. There was in fact several records offailure to get Granados. No one but Doņa Luz had heard the call andheard Singleton reply, yet it was not possible that this communicationcould be a fact over a broken wire, and the wire was found brokenbetween the Jefferson ranch and Granados. Whereupon word promptly went abroad among the Mexicans that SeņorSingleton had been lured to his death by a spirit voice calling over abroken wire as a friend to a friend. For the rest of her life DoņaLuz will have that tale to tell as the evidence of her own ears thatwarnings of death do come from the fearsome spirits of the shadowedunknown land, --and this in denial of all the padres' godly discourseto the contrary! A Mr. Frederick James of Nogales, connected with a group of charitablegentlemen working for the alleviating of distress among the manyborder exiles from Mexico, was the only person who came forwardvoluntarily to offer help to the coroner regarding the object of thedead man's journey to Nogales. Mr. James had been called on thetelephone by Mr. Singleton, who was apparently in great distress ofmind concerning mysterious illness and deaths of horses shipped fromGranados to France. A telegram had come from New York warning him thatthe Department of Justice was investigating the matter, and theexcitement and nervousness of Mr. Singleton was such that Mr. Jamesreadily consented to a meeting in Nogales, with the hope that he mightbe of service in any investigation they would decide upon afterconsultation. When Mr. Singleton did not keep the engagement, Mr. James attempted to make inquiries by telephone. He tried again thefollowing morning, but it was only after hearing of the suicide--hebegged pardon--the death of Mr. Singleton, that he recalled the factthat all of Singleton's discourse over the telephone had been unusual, excitable to a degree, while all acquaintances of the dead man knewhim as a quiet, reserved man, really unusually reserved, almost to thepoint of the secretive. Mr. James was struck by the unusual note ofpanic in his tones, but as a carload of horses was of considerablefinancial value, he ascribed the excitement in part to that, feelingconfident of course that Mr. Singleton was in no ways accountable forthe loss, but---- Mr. James was asked if the nervousness indicated by Mr. Singleton wasa fear of personal consequences following the telegram, but Mr. Jamespreferred not to say. He had regarded Mr. Singleton as a model of mostof the virtues, and while Singleton's voice and manner had certainlybeen unusual, he could not presume to suspect the inner meaning ofit. The telegraph and telephone records bore out the testimony of Mr. James. The fact that the first telegram was addressed to the manager, Mr. Conrad, had apparently nothing to do with the case, since thetelegraph files showed that messages were about evenly divided in thematter of address concerning ranch matters. They were often addressedsimply to "Granados Rancho" or "Manager Granados Ranch. " This onesimply happened to be addressed to the name of the manager. The coroner decided that the mode of address had no direct bearing onthe fact that the man was found dead under the cottonwoods with copiesof both telegrams in his pocket, both written in a different hand fromhis carefully clear script as shown in his address book. Safe in hispocket also was money, a gold watch with a small gold compass, and ahandsome seal ring. Nothing was missing, which of course precluded thethought of murder for robbery, and Philip Singleton was too mildlynegative to make personal enemies, a constitutional neutral. Billie, looking very small and very quiet, was brought in by Doņa Luzand Mr. Jefferson of the neighboring ranch, fifty miles to the east. She had not been weeping. She was too stunned for tears, and there wasa strangely ungirlish tension about her, an alert questioning in hereyes as she looked from face to face, and then returned to the face ofthe one man who was a stranger, the kindly sympathetic face of Mr. Frederick James. She told of the telegrams she had copied, and of the distress ofSingleton, but that his distress was no more than her own, that shehad been crying about the horses, and he had tried to comfort her. Shedid not believe he had a trouble in the world of his own, and he hadnever killed himself--never! When asked if she had any reason to suspect a murderer, she said ifthey ever found who killed the horses they would find who killed herPapa Phil, but this opinion was evidently not shared by any of theothers. The report of horses dead on a transport in the Atlanticocean, and a man dead under the cottonwoods in Arizona, did not appearto have any definite physical relation to each other, unless of coursethe loss of the horses had proven too much of a shock to Mr. Singletonand upset his nerves to the extent that moody depression had developedinto temporary dementia. His own gun had been the evident agent ofdeath. One of the Mexicans recalled that Singleton had discharged an Americanforeman in anger, and that the man had been in a rage about it, andassaulted Mr. Conrad, whereupon Conrad was recalled, and acknowledgedthe assault with evident intent to kill. Yes, he heard the man Rhodeshad threatened Singleton with a nastier accident than his attempt onConrad. No, he had not heard it personally, as he was unconsciouswhen the threat was made. "It wasn't a threat!" interrupted Billie, "it was something different, a warning. " "A warning of what?" Billie was about to quote Kit's opinion concerning Singleton's ranchforce, when she was halted by a strange thing--for Billie; it wasmerely the mild steady gaze of the quiet gentleman of the peacefulleague of the neutrals. There was a slight lifting of his brows as shespoke of a warning; and then a slight suggestion of a smile--it mighthave been a perfectly natural incredulous smile, but Billie felt thatit was not. The yellowish brown eyes narrowed until only the pupilswere visible, and warm though the day was, Billie felt a swift chillover her, and her words were cautious. "I can't say, I don't know, but Kit Rhodes had no grudge against PapaPhil. He seemed in some way to be sorry for him. " She noted that Conrad's gaze was on the face of Mr. James instead ofon her. "Sorry for him?" "Y-yes, sort of. He tried to explain why, but Papa would not listen, and would not make any engagement with him. Sent his money by CaptainPike and wouldn't see him. But Kit Rhodes did not make a threat, hedid not!" Her last denial was directly at Conrad, who merely shrugged hisshoulders as if to dispose of that awkward phase of the matter. "It was told me so, but the Mexican men might not have understood thewords of Rhodes--he was in a rage--and it may be he did not mean somuch as he said. " "But he didn't say it!" insisted Billie. "Very good, he did not, and it is a mistake of mine, " agreed Conradpolitely. "For quite awhile I was unconscious after his assault, naturally I know nothing of what was said. " "And where is this man Rhodes to be found?" asked the coroner, andConrad smiled meaningly. "Nowhere, --or so I am told! He and a companion are said to havecrossed the line into Sonora twenty-four hours before the death of Mr. Singleton. " "Well, unless there is some evidence that he was seen later on thisside, any threat he might or might not have made, has no relationwhatever to this case. Is there any evidence that he was seen at, ornear, Granados after starting for Sonora?" No evidence was forthcoming, and the coroner, in summoning up, confessed he was not satisfied to leave certain details of the case amystery. That Singleton had discharged Rhodes in anger, and Rhodes had, even byintimation, voiced a threat against Singleton could not be consideredas having any bearing on the death of the latter; while the voice ofthe unknown calling him to a meeting at Jefferson's ranch was equallya matter of mystery, since no one at Jefferson's knew anything of themessage, or the speaker, and investigation developed the fact that thetelephone wire was broken between the two ranches, and there was noword at Granados Junction Central of any message to Granados afterfive o'clock the afternoon of the previous day. And, since Philip Singleton never reached the Jefferson ranch, butturned his car off the road at the cottonwood caņon, and was foundwith one bullet in his head, and the gun in his own hand, it was notfor a coroner's jury to conjecture the impulse leading up to the act, or the business complications by which the act might, or might not, have been hastened. But incomprehensible though it might seem to allconcerned there was only one finding on the evidence submitted, andthat was suicide. "Papa Phil never killed himself, never!" declared Billie. "That wouldbe two suicides in a month for Granados, and two is one too many. Wenever had suicides here before. " "Who was the other?" "Why, Miguel Herrara who had been arrested for smuggling, was searchedand his gun taken, and yet that night found a gun to kill himself within the adobe where he was locked up! Miguel would not have cared for ayear or two in jail; he had lived there before, and hadn't tried anykilling. I tell you Granados is getting more than its share. " "It sure looks like it, little lady, " agreed the coroner, "butHerrara's death gives us no light or evidence on Singleton's death, and our jurisdiction is limited strictly to the hand that held thegun. The evidence shows it was in the hand of Mr. Singleton whenfound. " The Jeffersons insisted that Billie go home with them, as the girlappeared absolutely and pathetically alone in the world. She knew ofno relatives, and Tia Luz and Captain Pike were the only two whom shehad known from babyhood as friends of her father's. The grandmother of Billie Bernard had been the daughter of a Spanish_haciendado_ who was also an officer in the army of Mexico. He metdeath in battle before he ever learned that his daughter, in the piouswork of nursing friend and enemy alike, had nursed one enemy of thehated North until each was captive to the other, and she rode besidehim to her father's farthest northern rancho beyond the Mexicandeserts, and never went again to the gay circles of Mexico's capital. Late in her life one daughter, Dorotea was born, and when AlfredBernard came out of the East and looked on her, a blonde Spanish girlas her ancestresses of Valencia had been, the game of love was playedagain in the old border rancho which was world enough for the lovers. There had been one eastern summer for them the first year of theirmarriage, and Philip Singleton had seen her there, and never forgother. After her widowhood he crossed the continent to be near her, andafter awhile his devotion, and her need of help in many ways, won theplace he coveted, and life at Granados went on serenely until herdeath. Though he had at times been bored a bit by the changelessnessof ranch life, yet he had given his word to guard the child'sinheritance until she came of age, and had kept it loyally as he knewhow until death met him in the caņon of the cottonwoods. But the contented isolation of her immediate family left Billie onlysuch guardian as the court might appoint for her property and person, and Andrew Jefferson, Judge Jefferson by courtesy, in the county, would no doubt be choice of the court as well as the girl. Beyond thatshe could only think of Pike, and--well Pike was out of reach on someenchanted gold trail of which she must not speak, and she supposed shewould have to go to school instead of going in search of him! Conrad spoke to her kindly as she was led to the Jefferson car, andthere was a subtle deference in his manner, indicating his realizationthat he was speaking--not to the wilful little maid who could beannoying--but to the owner of Granados and, despite his five yearcontract as manager, an owner who could change entirely the activitiesof the two ranches in another year--and it was an important year. He also spoke briefly to Mr. James offering him the hospitality of theranch for a day of rest before returning to Nogales, but the offer waspolitely declined. Mr. James intimated that he was at Conrad's serviceif he could be of any practical use in the mysterious situation. Hecarefully gave his address and telephone number, and bade the othersgood day. But as he was entering his little roadster he spoke again toConrad. "By the way, it was a mistake to let that man Rhodes get over intoSonora. It should be the task of someone to see that he does not comeback. He seems a very dangerous man. See to it!" The words were those of a kindly person interested in the welfare ofthe community, and evidently impressed by the evidence referring tothe discharged range boss. Two of the men hearing him exchangedglances, for they also thought that rumor of the threats should havebeen looked into. But the last three words were spoken too softly forany but Conrad to hear. The following week Billie went to Tucson with the Jeffersons and ather request Judge Jefferson was appointed guardian of her person andestate, after which she and the judge went into a confidential sessionconcerning that broken wire on the Granados line. "I'm not loco, Judge, " she insisted, "but I want you to learn whetherthat wire was cut on purpose, or just broke itself. Also I want you totake up that horse affair with the secret service people. I don't wantConrad to be sent away--yet. I'd rather watch him on Granados. I won'tgo away to school; I'd rather have a teacher at home. We can findone. " "But, do you realize that with two mysterious deaths on Granadoslately, you might run some personal risk of living there with onlyyourself and two women in the house? I'm not sure we can sanctionthat, my child. " Billie smiled at him a bit wanly, but decided. "Now Judge, you know I picked you because you would let me do whateverI pleased, and I don't mean to be disappointed with you. Half the menat the inquest think that Kit Rhodes did come back to do thatshooting, and you know Conrad and the very smooth rat of the CharitiesSociety are accountable for that opinion. The Mexican who dragged inKit's name is one of Conrad's men; it all means something! It's a badmuddle, but Kit Rhodes and Cap Pike will wander back here some ofthese days, and I mean to have every bit of evidence for Kit to startin with. He suspected a lot, and all Granados combined to silencehim--fool Granados!" "But, just between ourselves, child, are you convinced Rhodes did notmake the statement liable to be construed into a threat against Mr. Singleton?" "Convinced nothing, " was the inelegant reply of his new ward. "I heardhim say enough to hang him if evidence could be found that he wasnorth of the line that morning, and that's why it's my job to takenote of all the evidence on the other side. The horses did not killthemselves. That telegram concerning it did not send itself. Papa Phildid not shoot himself, and that telephone wire did not cut itself! Myhunch is that those four things go together, and that's a combinationthey can't clear up by dragging in the name of a man who never saw thehorses, and who was miles south in Sonora with Cap Pike when the otherthree things happened. Now can they?" CHAPTER VII IN THE PROVINCE OF ALTAR _There was a frog who lived in the spring: Sing-song Kitty, can't yo' carry me, oh? And it was so cold that he could not sing, Sing-song Kitty, can't yo' carry me, oh? Ke-mo! Ki-mo! Dear--oh my! To my hi'--to my ho--to my----_ "Oh! For the love of Mike! Bub, can't you give a man a rest instead ofpiling up the agony? These old joints of mine are creakin' with everymove from desert rust and dry camps, and you with no more heart in youthan to sing of springs, --cold springs!" "They do exist, Cap. " "Uh--huh, they are as real to us this minute as the red gold thatwe've trailed until we're at the tag end of our grub stake. I tellyou, Bub, they stacked the cards on us with that door of the oldSoledad Mission, and the view of the gold caņon from there! Why, Whitely showed us that the mission door never did face the hills, butlooked right down the valley towards the Rio del Altar just as theSoledad plaza does today; all the old Mexicans and Indians tell usthat. " "Well, we've combed over most of the arroyas leading into the Altarfrom Rancho Soledad, and all we've found is placer gravel; yet theplacers are facts, and the mother lode is somewhere, Cap. " "Worn down to pan dirt, that's what!" grunted Pike. "I tell you theseheathen sit around and dream lost mission tales and lost mine lies;dream them by the dozen to delude just such innocent yaps as you andme. They've nothing else to do between crops. We should have stuck toa white man's land, north into Arizona where the Three Hills of Goldare waiting, to say nothing of the Lost Stone Cabin mine, lost nottwenty miles from Quartzite, and in plain sight of Castle Dome. Nowthere is nothing visionary about _that_, Kit! Why, I knew an old-timerwho freighted rich ore out of that mine thirty years ago, and even theroad to it has been lost for years! We know things once did exist upin that country, Kit, and down here we are all tangled up withMexican-Indian stories of ghosts and enchantments, and such vagaries. I'm fed up with them to the limit, for everyone of them we listen tois different from the last. We'll head up into the Castle Dome countrynext time, hear me?" "Sure, I hear, " agreed Kit cheerfully. "Perhaps we do lose, but it'snot so bad. Since Whitely sent his family north, he has intimated thatMesa Blanca is a single man's job, and I reckon I can have it when hegoes--as he will. Then in the month we have scouted free of Whitelys, we have dry washed enough dust to put you on velvet till things comeour way. Say, what will you bet that a month of comfort around Nogaleswon't make you hungry for the trail again?" "A gold trail?" queried the weary and dejected Pike. "Any old trail to any old place just so we keep ambling on. You can'tlive contented under cover, and you know it. " "Well, " decided Pike after a rod or two of tramping along the shaly, hot bed of a dry arroya. "I won't bet, for you may be among theprophets. But while you are about it, I'd be thankful if you'dprophesy me a wet trail next time instead of skimpy mud holes wheresprings ought to be. I'm sick of dry camps, and so is Baby Buntin'. " "_'Oh, there was a frog lived in the spring!'_" chanted Kitderisively. "Cheer up, Cap, the worst is yet to come, for I've an ideathat the gang of Mexican vaqueros we glimpsed from the butte at noonwill just about muss up the water hole in Yaqui caņon until it will beus for a sleep there before the fluid is fit for a water bottle. _'Oh, there was a frog lived in the spring!'_ Buntin' Baby, we'll fish thefrog out, and let you wallow in it instead, you game little dusty rat!Say, Pike, when we load up with grub again we'll keep further west tothe Cerrado Pintado. I'll follow a hunch of my own next trip. " The older man grunted disdain for the hunches of Kit, even while hiseyes smiled response to the ever-living call of youth. To Rhodes therewas ever a "next time. " He was young enough to deal in futures, andhad a way with him by which friends were to be found for even unstableventurings with no backing more substantial than a "hunch. " Not that Kit was gifted with any great degree of fatal beauty--men arenot often pretty on the trail, unwashed, unshaven, and unshorn--addedto which their equipment had reached the point where his mostpretentious garment was a square of an Indian _serape_ with a hole inthe middle worn as a poncho, and adopted to save his coat and othershirt on the hard trail. Cap Pike growled that he looked like a Mexican peon in that raiment, which troubled Kit not at all. He was red bronze from the desert days, and his blue eyes, with the long black lashes of some Celtic ancestor, looked out on the world with direct mild approval. They matched theboyish voice much given to trolling old-time ditties and sentimentalfoolishness. He led the dappled roan over the wild dry "wash" where the sand wasdeep and slippery, and the white crust of alkali over all. Before himswayed the pack mules, and back of him Captain Pike sagged on thelittle gray burro, named in derision and affection, the Baby Buntingof the outfit. The jauntiness was temporarily eliminated from the old prospector. Twomonths of fruitless scratching gravel when he had expected to walkwithout special delay to the great legendary deposit, had taken thesparkle of hope from the blue eyes, and he glanced perfunctorily atthe walls of that which had once been a river bed. "What in time do you reckon became of all the water that used to fillthese dry gullies?" he asked querulously. "Why, it took a thousandyears of floods to wash these boulders round, and then leave them highand dry when nicely polished. That's a waste in nature I can't figureout, and this godforsaken territory is full of them. " "Well, you grouch, if we didn't have this dry bed to skip along, wewould be bucking the greasewood and cactus on the mesa above. So weget some favors coming our way. " "Skip along, --me eye!" grunted Pike, as the burro toiled laboriouslythrough the sand, and Kit shifted and stumbled over treacherous, half-buried boulders. "Say, Kit, don't you reckon it's time for Billieto answer my letter? It's over eight weeks now, and mail ought to getin once a month. " Rhodes grunted something about "mail in normal times, but these timeswere not normal, " and did not seem much interested in word fromGranados. He had not the heart, or else had too much, to tell the old man thatthe letter to Billie never reached her. When Whitely went north he putit in his coat pocket, and then changed his coat! Kit found it a monthlater and held it, waiting to find someone going out. He had not evenmentioned it to Whitely on his return, for Whitely was having his owntroubles, and could not spare a man for a four day trip to mail. Whitely's folks lived north of Naco, and he had gone there directand returned without touching at Nogales, or hearing of the tragedyat Granados. The latest news of the Mexican revolutions, and theall-absorbing question as to whether the United States would orwould not intervene, seemed all the news the worried Whitely hadbrought back. Even the slaughter of a dozen nations of Europe hadno new features to a ranchman of Sonora, --it remained just slaughter. And one did not need to cross boundaries to learn of killings, forall the world seemed aflame, and every state in Mexico had its ownwars, --little or big. Then, in the records of the tumultuous days, there was scarce spacefor the press or people to give thought after the first day or two, tothe colorless life going out in mystery under the cottonwoods ofGranados, and no word came to tell Rhodes of the suspicion, only halfveiled, against himself. The ranch house of Mesa Blanca was twenty miles from the hacienda ofSoledad, and a sharp spur of the Carrizal range divided their grazinglands. Soledad reached a hundred miles south and Mesa Blanca claimedfifty miles to the west, so that the herds seldom mingled, but wordfiltered to and from between the vaqueros, and Rhodes heard that Perezhad come north from Hermosillo and that El Aleman, (the German) hadmade the two day trip in from the railroad, and had gone on a little_pasear_ to the small rancherias with Juan Gonsalvo, the half-breedoverseer. The vaqueros talked with each other about that, for therewere no more young men among them for soldiers, only boys and old mento tend the cattle, and what did it mean? The name of Rhodes was not easy for the Mexican tongue, and at MesaBlanca his identity was promptly lost in the gift of a name with ameaning to them, El Pajarito, (the singer). Capitan Viajo, (the oldcaptain), was accepted by Pike with equal serenity, as both men wereonly too well pleased to humor the Indian ranch people in any friendlyconcessions, for back of some of those alert black eyes there weresurely inherited records of old pagan days, and old legends of goldenveins in the hills. The fact that they were left practically nameless in a strangeterritory did not occur to either of them, and would not havedisturbed them if it had. They had met no American but Whitely sincethey first struck Mesa Blanca. One month Kit had conscientiously stuckto the ranch cares while Whitely took his family out, and Pike hadmade little sallies into the hills alone. On Whitely's return he had made an errand to Soledad and taken Rhodesand Pike along that they might view the crumbled walls of old SoledadMission, back of the ranch house. The ancient rooms of the missionpadres were now used principally as corrals, harness shop, and storagerooms. The situation in itself was one of rare beauty;--those old padresknew! It was set on a high plain or mesa, facing a wide valley spreadingmiles away to the south where mother-of-pearl mountains were rangedlike strung jewels far against the Mexican sky. At the north, slate-blue foothills lifted their sharp-edged shoulders three milesaway, but only blank walls of Soledad faced the hills, all portals ofthe old mission appeared to have faced south, as did Soledad. The doorfacing the hills was a myth. And as Rhodes stood north of the oldwall, and searched its thirty-mile circle, he could understand howfour generations of gold seekers had failed to find even a clue to thewealth those unknown padres had looked on, and sent joyous evidence ofto the viceroy of the south. It would take years of systematic searchto cover even half the visible range. A man could devote a longlifetime to a fruitless search there, and then some straying burromight uncover it for an Indian herder who would fill his poncho, andmake a sensation for a week or two, and never find the trail again! "It's just luck!" said Kit thinking it all over as he tramped alongthe arroya bed, "it either belongs to you, or it doesn't. No man onearth can buy it and make it stay, but if it is yours, no man can keepyou from it entirely. " "What the devil are you yammering about?" asked Pike grumpily. "Oh, I was just thinking of how Whitely exploded our little balloon ofhopes when he took us over to size up the prospects at Soledad. Iwonder if Perez has no white help at all around that place. We did noteven see the foreman. " "He's a half-breed, that Juan Gonsalvo. The Indians don't like him. He's from down Hermosillo way, and not like these Piman children ofnature. He and Conrad are up to some devilment, but Whitely thinksJuan took the job, deluded as we are, with the notion that a gold minewas sticking up out of the ground at the Soledad corrals, and it wasto be his find. You see, Bub, that story has gone the length ofMexico, and even over to Spain. Oh, we are not the only trailers ofghost gold; there are others!" The slanting sun was sending shadows long on the levels, and the hillswere looming to the east in softest tones of gray and amethyst; thewhitish green of desert growths lay between, and much of brown desertyet to cross. "We can't make the foothills tonight even though there is an earlymoon, " decided Kit. "But we can break camp at dawn and make it beforethe sun is high, and the water will hold out that long. " "It will hold for Buntin' and the mules, but what of Pardner?" askedthe older man. "He's not used to this hard pan gravel scratching. " "But he's thoroughbred, and he can stand it twelve hours more if Ican, can't you, old pal?" The tall roan with the dot of black betweenthe eyes returned his owner's caress by nosing his bare neck, and thehand held up to smooth the black mane. "I'll be glad enough to see him safe across the border in oldArizona, " observed Pike. "I can't see how the herders saved him foryou at Mesa Blanca when their own stock was picked of its best for thevarious patriots charging through the settlements. " "Some way, Miguel, the Indian vaquero, managed it, or got his girl tohide it out. Whitely confessed that his Indian cattlemen are the mostloyal he can find down here. " "But it's not a white man's land--yet, and I'm downright glad he'sshipped his family north. There's always hell enough in Sonora, butit's a dovecote to what it's bound to be before the end comes, and so, it's no place for white men's wives. " "Right you are! Say, what was it Whitely heard down in Sinaloaconcerning the Enchanted Caņon mine?" "Oh, some old priest's tale--the same dope we got with a differentslant to it. The gold nuggets from some shrine place where the watergushed _muy fuerte_, by a sycamore tree. Same old nuggets sent outwith the message, and after that the insurrection of the Indians, andthe priests who found it never lived to get out. Why, Bub, that isnearly two hundred years ago! Stop and think of the noble Castiliansgoing over Sonora with a fine tooth comb for that trail ever since andthen think of the nerve of us!" "Well, I'm nearer to it anyway than the Dutchman who trekked in fromthe south last year with copies of the old mission reports as guide, for the Yaquis killed him, and took his records, while they hide myhorse for me. " "Huh! yes, and warn you to ride him north!" "Correct;--but Pike, it was a warning, not a threat! Oh, I'm comingback all right, all right! That gold by the hidden stream sure has gotme roped and hog tied for keeps. " Pike growled good-natured disdain of his confidence, and suggestedthat the stream, which was probably only a measly mud hole, could havedropped to purgatory in an earthquake tremor since those first oldmission days, or filled up with quicksand. "Right you are, Cap. That's a first-rate idea, " agreed Kit theirrepressible. "Next trip we'll start looking for streams that wereand are not; we're in the bed of one now for that matter!" "Somewhere ahead we should come into the trail south from Carracita, "observed Pike, "but I reckon you'd just as soon camp with Pard out ofsight of the trail. " There was silence for a bit as they plodded on up the wide dry bed ofthe river, and then Kit turned, glancing at the old man keenly. "I didn't fool you much when I called that gang 'vaqueros, ' did I?"he observed. "Well, they didn't look good to me, and I decided I'dhave to fight for my horse if we crossed trails, and--it wastes a lotof time, fighting does. " "No, you didn't fool me. You'd be seven kinds of an idiot to walk inthis gully of purgatory when you could ride safely on the mesa above, so I guessed you had a hunch it was the friendly and acquisitivepatriots. " "Pike, they were between us and the Palomitas rancherias of MesaBlanca or I'd have made a try to get through and warn the Indiansthere. Those men had no camp women with them, so they were not adetachment of the irregular cavalry, --that's what puzzles me. Andtheir horses were fresh. It's some new devilment. " "There's nothing new in Sonora, son. Things happen over and over thesame. " The shadows lengthened, and the blue range to the east had sharp, black edges against the saffron sky, and the men plodding along oversand and between boulders, fell silent after the little exchange ofconfidence as to choice of trail. Once Kit left the gully and climbedthe steep grade to the mesa alone to view the landscape over, but slidand scrambled down, --hot, dusty, and vituperative. "Not a sign of life but some carrion crows moving around in the bluewithout flop of a wing, " he grumbled. "Who started the dope thatmankind is the chosen of the Lord? Huh! we have to scratch gravel forall we rake in but the birds of the air have us beat for desert travelall right, all right!" "Well, Bub, if you saw no one's dust it must be that gang were notheaded for Palomitas or Whitely's. " "They could strike Palomitas, and circle over to the east road withoutstriking Whitely's home corrals, " said Kit thoughtfully. "Sure they could, but what's the object? If it's cattle or horsesthey're after the bigger ranch is the bigger haul?" "Yes, --if it's stock they're after, " agreed Kit somberly. "Why, lad, what--what's got you now?" "I reckon it's the damned buzzards, " acknowledged the younger man. "Idon't know what struck me as I sat up there watching them. Maybe it'stheir blackness, maybe it's their provender, maybe it was just theloco of their endless drifting shadows, but for a minute up there Ihad an infernal sick feeling. It's a new one on me, and there wasnothing I could blame it on but disgust of the buzzards. " "You're goin' too shy on the water, and never knew before that you hadnerves, " stated Pike sagely. "I've been there; fought with a pardneronce, --Jimmy Dean, till he had to rope me. You take a pull at thewater bottle, and take it now. " Kit did so, but shook his head. "It touches the right spot, but it was not a thirst fancy. It wasanother thought and--O Bells of Pluto! Pike, let's talk of somethingelse! What was that you said about the Sinaloa priest story of the redgold? You said something about a new slant on the old dope. " "Uh-huh!" grunted Pike. "At least it was a new slant to me. I've heardover and over about uprising of Indians, and death of the two priestswho found their mine, but this Sinaloa legend has it that the Indiansdid not kill the priests, but that their gods did!" "Their gods?" "Yeh, the special gods of that region rose up and smote them. That'swhy the Indians barred out other mission priests for so long a spellthat no white man remembered just where the lost shrine of the redgold was. Of course it's all punk, Bub, just some story of the heathensheep to hide the barbecuing of their shepherds. " "Maybe so, but I've as much curiosity as a pet coon. What specialprocess did their gods use to put the friars out of commission?" "Oh, lightning. The original priests' report had it that the red goldwas at some holy place of the tribes, a shrine of some sort. Well, youknow the usual mission rule--if they can't wean the Indian from hisshrine, they promptly dig foundations and build a church there underheavenly instructions. That's the story of this shrine of El Alisalwhere the priests started to build a little branch chapel or _visita_, for pious political reasons--and built it at the gold shrine. It wentdown in the priests' letter or record as gold of rose, a deep redgold. Well, under protest, the Indians helped build a shack for achurch altar under a great aliso tree there, but when lightning struckthe priests, killed both and burned the shack, you can see what thatmanifestation would do to the Indian mind. " Kit halted, panting from the heart-wearying trail, and looked Pikeover disgustedly. "Holy mackerel! Pike, haven't you _any_ imagination? You've had thisnew side to the story for over a month and never even cheeped aboutit! I heard you and Whitely talking out on the porch, but I didn'thear this!" "Why, Bub, it's just the same old story, everyone of them have half adozen different sides to it. " "But this one explains things, this one has logic, this one blazes atrail!" declared the enthusiast. "This one explains good and plentywhy no Indian has ever cheeped about it, no money could bribe him toit. Can't you see? Of course that lightning was sent by their wrathygods, of course it was! But do you note that place of the gold, andplace of the shrine where the water rises, is also some point wherethere is a dyke of iron ore near, a magnet for the lightning? And thatis not here in those sandy mesas and rocky barrancas--it's to the westin the hills, Pike. Can't you see that?" "Too far from the old north and south trail, Bub. There was nothing totake padres so far west to the hills. The Indians didn't even livethere; only strayed up for nuts and hunting in the season. " "Save your breath!" jeered Kit. "It's me to hike back to Mesa Blancaand offer service at fifty dollars per, and live like a miser until wecan hit the trail again. I may find a tenderfoot to buy that valleytract of mine up in Yuma, and get cash out of that. Oh, we will getthe finances somehow! I'll write a lawyer soon as we get back toWhitely's--God! what's that?" They halted, holding breath to listen. "A coyote, " said Pike. "No, only one animal screams like that--a wildcat in the timber. Butit's no wildcat. " Again the sound came. It was either from a distance or else muffledby the barrier of the hill, a blood-curdling scream of sickeningterror. A cold chill struck the men as they looked at each other. "The carrion crows knew!" said Kit. "You hold the stock, Pike. " He quickly slipped his rifle from its case, and started up the knoll. "The stock will stand, " said Pike. "I'm with you. " As the two men ran upward to the summit and away from the crunching oftheir own little outfit in the bed of the dry river, they were struckby the sound of clatter of hoofs and voices. "Bub, do you know where we are?" asked Pike--"this draw slants southand has brought us fair into the Palomitas trail where it comes intothe old Yaqui trail, and on south to hell. " "To hell it is, if it's the slavers again after women, " said Kit. "Come quiet. " They reached the summit where cacti and greasewood served as shield, and slightly below them they saw, against the low purple hills, cloudsof dust making the picture like a vision and not a real thing, a lineof armed horsemen as outpost guards, and men with roped arms stumblingalong on foot slashed at occasionally with a _reata_ to hasten theirpace. Women and girls were there, cowed and drooping, with torngarments and bare feet. Forty prisoners in all Kit counted of thosewithin range, ere the trail curved around the bend of a hill. "But that scream?" muttered Kit. "All those women are silent as death, but that scream?" Then he saw. One girl was in the rear, apart from the rest of the group. Ablond-bearded man spurred his horse against her, and a guard lashed ather to keep her behind. Her scream of terror was lest she be separatedfrom that most woeful group of miserables. The horse was across theroad, blocking it, as the man with the light beard slid from thesaddle and caught her. Kit's gun was thrown into position as Pike caught his hand. "_No!_" he said. "Look at her!" For the Indian girl was quicker far. From the belt of her assailantshe grasped a knife and lunged at his face as he held her. His onehand went to his cheek where the blood streamed, and his other to hisrevolver. But even there she was before him, for she held the knife in bothhands against her breast, and threw herself forward in the haze ofdust. The other guard dismounted and stared at the still figure on thetrail, then kicked her over until he could see her face. One look wasenough. He jerked the knife from the dead body, wiped it on her_manta_, and turned to tie a handkerchief over the cheek of thewounded horseman. Kit muttered an oath of horror, and hastily drew the field glass fromits case to stare at the man whose beard, a false one, had been tornoff in the struggle. It was not easy to re-adjust it so that it wouldnot interfere with the bandage, and thus he had a very fair view ofthe man's features, and his thoughts were of Billie's words to Conradconcerning slave raids in Sonora. Had Billie really suspected, or hadshe merely connected his Mexican friends with reports of raids forgirls in the little Indian pueblos? Pike reached for the glass, but by the time he could focus it to fithis eyes, the man had re-mounted, riding south, and there was only thedead girl left there where she fell, an Indian girl they both knew, Anita, daughter of Miguel, the major-domo of Mesa Blanca, whose ownlittle rancheria was with the Pimans at Palomitas. "Look above, Cap, " said Kit. Above two pair of black wings swept in graceful curves against thesaffron sky--waiting! Rhodes went back to the outfit for pick and shovel, and when twilightfell they made a grave there in the dusky caņon of the desert. CHAPTER VIII THE SLAVE TRAIL They camped that night in the barranca, and next morning a thin bluesmoke a mile away drew Kit out on the roan even in the face of theheat to be, and the water yet to find. He hoped to discover someonewho had been more fortunate in escape. He found instead an Indian he knew, one whose gray hair was mattedwith blood and who stood as if dazed by terror at sound of hoofs. Itwas Miguel, the Pima head man of Mesa Blanca. "Why, Miguel, don't you know me?" asked Kit. The eyes of the man had a strange look, and he did not answer. But hedid move hesitatingly to the horse and stroked it. "_Caballo_, " he said. "_Muy bueno, caballo. _" "Yes, " agreed Pardner's rider, "very good always. " "_Si_ seņor, always. " Kit swung from the saddle, and patted the old man's shoulder. He wasplainly dazed from either a hurt, or shock, and would without doubtdie if left alone. "Come, you ride, and we'll go to camp, then find water, " suggestedKit. "Camp here no good. Come help me find water. " That appeal penetrated the man's mind more clearly. Miguel had beenthe well-trusted one of the Indian vaqueros, used to a certaindependence put upon him, and he straightened his shoulders for atask. "_Si_ seņor, a good padrone are you, and water it will be found foryou. " He was about to mount when he halted, bewildered, and lookedabout him as if in search. "All--my people--" he said brokenly. "My children of me--my child!" Kit knew that his most winning child lay newly covered under the sandand stones he had gathered by moonlight to protect the grave fromcoyotes. But there was a rustle back of him and a black-eyed elf, little morethan a child, was standing close, shaking the sand from her hair. "I am hearing you speak. I know it is you, and I come, " she said. It was Tula, the younger daughter of Miguel, --one who had carried themwater from the well on her steady head, and played with the babies onthe earthen floors at the pueblo of Palomitas. But the childish humors were gone, and her face wore the Indian maskof any age. "Tell me, " said Kit. "It is at Palomitas. I was in the willows by the well when they came, Juan Gonsalvo and El Aleman, and strange soldiers. All the womenscream and make battle, also the men, and that is when my father ishurt in the head, that is when they are taking my mother, and Anita, my sister. Some are hiding. And El Aleman and Juan Gonsalvo make thecount, and sent the men for search. That is how it was. " "Why do you say El Aleman?" asked Rhodes. "I seeing him other time with Don José, and hearing how he talk. AlsoAnita knowing him, and scream his name--'Don Adolf!'--when he catchher. Juan Gonsalvo has a scarf tied over the face--all but the eyes, but the Don Adolf has the face now covered with hairs and I seeinghim. They take all the people. My father is hurt, but lives. He triesto follow and is much sick. My mother is there, and Anita, my sister, is there. He thinks it better to find them--it is his head is sick. Hewalks far beside me, and does not know me. " "You are hungry?" She showed him a few grains of parched corn tied up in the corner ofher _manta_. "Water I have, and roots of the sand. " "Water, " repeated Miguel mechanically. "Yes, I am the one who knowswhere it comes. I am the one to show you. " The eyes of the girl met Kit's gaze of understanding. "The hurt is of his head, " she stated again. "In the night he madespeech of strange old-time things, secret things, and of fear. " "So? Well, it was a bad night for old men and Indian girls in thedesert. Let's be moving. " Tula picked up her hidden wicker water bottle and trudged on sandaledfeet beside Kit. Miguel went into a heap in the saddle, dazed, muttering disjointed Indian words, only one was repeated often enoughto make an impression, --it was Cajame. "What is Cajame?" he asked the girl, and she gave him a look oftolerance. "He was of chiefs the most great. He was killed for his people. He wasthe father of my father. " Kit tried to recall where he had heard the name, but failed. No onehad chanced to mention that Miguel, the peaceful Piman, had any claimson famous antecedents. He had always seemed a grave, silent man, intent only on herding the stock and caring for the family, at thelittle cluster of adobes by the well of Palomitas. It was about twomiles from the ranch house, but out of sight. An ancient river hillterminated in a tall white butte at the junction of two arroyas, andthe springs feeding them were the deciding influence regardinglocation of dwellings. Rhodes could quickly perceive how a raid couldbe made on Palomitas and, if no shots were fired, not be suspected atthe ranch house of Mesa Blanca. The vague sentences of Miguel were becoming more connected, and Kit, holding him in the saddle, was much puzzled by some of them. "It is so, and we are yet dying, " he muttered as he swayed in thesaddle. "We, the Yaqui, are yet dumb as our fathers bade. But it isthe end, seņor, and the red gold of Alisal is our own, and----" Then his voice dwindled away in mutterings and Rhodes saw that theIndian girl was very alert, but watching him rather than her father asshe padded along beside him. "Where is it--Alisal?" he asked carelessly, and her velvet-black eyesnarrowed. "I think not anyone is knowing. It is also evil to speak of thatplace, " she said. "What makes the evil?" "Maybe so the padres. I no knowing, what you think?" But they had reached the place of camp where Cap Pike had the packs onthe animals, waiting and restless. "Well, you're a great little collector, Bub, " he observed. "You startout on the bare sand and gravel and raise a right pert family. Who'syour friend?" Despite his cynical comment, he was brisk enough with help when Miguelslid to the ground, ashen gray, and senseless. "Now we are up against trouble, with an old cripple and a petticoat totote, and water the other side of the range. " But he poured a little of the precious fluid down the throat of theIndian, who recovered, but stared about vacantly. "Yes, seņor, " he said nodding his head when his eyes rested on Rhodes, "as you say--it is for the water--as you say--it is the end--for theYaqui. Dead is Cajame--die all we by the Mexican! To you, seņor, mychild, and El Alisal of the gold of the rose. So it will be, seņor. Itis the end--the water is there, seņor. It is to you. " "That's funny, " remarked Pike, "he's gone loony and talking of oldchief Cajame of the Yaquis. He was hanged by the Mexican governmentfor protesting against loot by the officials. A big man he was, nothing trifling about Cajame! That old Indian had eighty thousand ingold in a government bank. Naturally the Christian rulers couldn'tstand for that sort of shiftlessness in a heathen! Years ago it wasthey burned him out, destroyed his house and family;--the whole thingwas hellish. " The girl squatting in the sand, never took her eyes off Pike's face. It was not so much the words, but the tone and expression she gavenote to, and then she arose and moved over beside her father. "No, " she said stolidly, "it is his families here, Yaqui me--no Pima!Hiding he was when young, hiding with Pima men all safe. The padre ofme is son to Cajame, --only to you it is told, you Americano!" Her eyes were pitiful in their strained eagerness, striving with allher shocked troubled soul to read the faces of the two men, andstaking all her hopes of safety in her trust. "You bet we're Americano, Tula, and so will you be when we get youover the border, " stated Rhodes recklessly. "I don't know how we aregoing to do it, Cap, but I swear I'm not going to let a plucky littlegirl like that go adrift to be lifted by the next gang of raiders. Weneed a mascot anyway, and she is going to be it. " "You're a nice sort of seasoned veteran, Bub, " admitted Pike dryly, "but in adopting a family it might be as well to begin with a hemascot instead of what you've picked. A young filly like that mightturn hoodoo. " "I reckon I'd have halted for a sober second thought if it hadn't beenfor that other girl under the stones down there, " agreed Rhodes. "Butshucks!--with all the refugees we're feeding across the line where'sthe obstacle to this one?" The old prospector was busy with the wounded head for the Indian andhad no reply ready, but shook his head ominously. Rhodes scowled andbegan uncoiling a _reata_ in case it would be needed to tie Miguel inthe saddle. "We've got to get some hustle to this outfit, " he observed glancing atthe sun. "It's too far to take them back to Whitely's, and water hasto be had. We are really nearer to Soledad!" The Indian girl came closer to him, speaking in a low, level manner, strange and secretive, yet not a whisper. "He does know--and water is there at that place, " she said. "In thenight I am hearing him speak all what the ancients hide. He no canwalk to that place, maybe I no can walk, but go you for the gold inthe hidden caņon. You are Americano, --strong, --is it not? A braveheart and much of gold of rose would bring safe again the mother of meand my sister! All this I listen to in the night. For them the gold ofrose by the hidden water is to be uncovered again. But see, his handsare weak, his head is like the _niņo_ in the reed basket. A strongerheart must find the way--it is you. " Lowly, haltingly, she kept on that level-voiced decision. It wasevident that the ravings of her father through the long hours of thedreadful night had filled her mind with his one desire: to dare thevery gods that the red gold might be uncovered again, and purchasefreedom for the Indians on the exile road to the coast. So low were her words that even Cap Pike, a rod away, only heard thevoice, but not the subject. It was further evident that she meant butthe one man to hear. Pike had white hair and to her mind was, like herfather, to be protected from responsibilities, but Rhodes loomedstrong and kind, and braced by youth for any task. Rhodes looked at her pityingly, and patted her head. "I reckon we're all a little loco, kid, " he observed. "You're soparalyzed with the hell you saw, and his ravings that you think hisdope of the gold is all gospel, but it's only a dream, sister, --a sickman's fancy, though you sure had me going for a minute, plumhypnotized by the picture. " "It is to hide always, " she said. "No man must know. No other eyesmust see, only you!" "Sure, " he agreed. "You promising all?" "Sure again! Just to comfort you I promise that when I find the goldof El Alisal I will use it to help get your people. " "Half, " she decided. "Half to you. " "Half it is! You're a great little planner for your size, kid. Too badit's only a dream. " Cap Pike rose to his feet, and gave a hand to Miguel, who reeled, andthen steadied himself gradually. "Most thanks, seņor, " he whispered, "and when we reach the water----" They helped him into the saddle, and Rhodes walked beside, holding himas he swayed. They passed the new-made grave in the sand, and Rhodes turned to thegirl. "Sister, " he said, "lift two stones and add to that pile there, one for you and one for your father. Also look around and rememberthis place. " "I am no forgetting it, " she said as she lifted a stone and placed itas he told her. "It is here the exile trail. I mark the place whereyou take for me the Americano road, and not the south road of thelost. So it is, --these stone make witness. " "I'll be shot if I don't believe you _are_ old Cajames stock, " saidCap Pike staring at her, and then meeting the gaze of Rhodes in wonderat her clear-cut summing up of the situation. "But he was a handfulfor the government in his day, Bub, and I'm hornswaggled if I'd pickout his breed for a kindergarten. " The girl heard and understood at least the jocular tenor of hismeaning, but no glance in his direction indicated it. She placed thesecond stone, and then in obedience to Rhodes she looked back the wayshe had come where the desert growth crisped in the waves of heat. Onone side lay the low, cactus-dotted hillocks, and on the other thesage green and dull yellow faded into the blue mists of the easternrange. "I am no forgetting it, this place ever, " she said and then lifted herwater bottle and trudged on beside Rhodes. "It is where my trailbegins, with you. " Cape Pike grinned at the joke on the boy, for it looked as if theYaqui girl were adopting _him_! CHAPTER IX A MEETING AT YAQUI WELL Good luck was with them, for the water hole in Yaqui caņon had notbeen either muddied or exhausted, evidence that the raiders had notranged that way. The sorry looking quartette fairly staggered into thelittle caņon, and the animals were frantic with desire to drink theirfill. "I was so near fried that the first gallon fairly sizzled down mygullet, " confessed Cap Pike after a long glorious hour of rest underthe alamos with saturated handkerchief over his burning eyes. "Thatlast three mile stretch was hell's back yard for me. How you reckonthe little trick over there ever stood it?" The Indian girl was resting near her father, and every little whileputting water on his face and hands. When she heard the voice of Pikeshe sat up, and then started quietly to pick up dry yucca stalks andbits of brushwood for a fire. "Look at that, would you, Bub, " commented Pike, "the minute she seesyou commence to open the cook kit she is rustling for firewood. Thatlittle devil is made of whalebone for toughness. Why, even the burrosare played out, but she is fresh as a daisy after a half hour'srest!" Rhodes noted that the excitement by which she had been swayed toconfidence in the morning had apparently burned out on the trail, forshe spoke no more, only served silently as generations of her mothersof the desert had done, and waited, crouched back of her father, whilethe men ate the slender meal of _carne seco_, _atole_, and coffee. Cap Pike suggested that she join them, but it was her adopted guardianwho protested. "We won't change their ways of women, " he decided. "I notice that whenwhite folks try to they are seldom understood. How do we know whetherthat attitude is an humble effacement, or whether the rank of thatmartyred ancester exalts her too greatly to allow equality with whitestragglers of the range?" Cap Pike snorted disdain. "You'll be making a Pocahontas of her if you keep on that 'nobleInjun' strain, " he remarked. "Far be it from me! Pocahontas was a gay little hanger-on of thecamps, --not like this silent owl! Her mind seems older than her years, and just notice her care of him, will you? I reckon he'd have wanderedaway and died but for her grip on him through the night. " Miguel sank into sleep almost at once after eating, and the girl wavedover him an alamo branch as a fan with one hand, and ate with theother, while Rhodes looked over the scant commissary outfit, reckoningmouths to feed and distance to supplies. The moon was at full, andnight travel would save the stock considerably. By the following noonthey could reach ranches either west or north. He was conscious of theeyes of the girl ever on his face in mute question, and while Pikebathed the backs of the animals, and led each to stand in the oozydrainage of the meager well, she came close to Kit and spoke. "You say it is a dream, seņor, and you laugh, but the red gold of ElAlisal is no dream. He, my father has said it, and after that, I, Tula, may show it to you. Even my mother does not know, but I know. Iam of the blood to know. You will take him there, for it is a medicineplace, much medicine! He has said it to you, seņor, and that gift isgreat. You will come, alone, --with us, seņor?" Kit smiled at her entreaty, patted her hair, and dug out a worn deckof cards and shuffled them, slowly regarding the sleeping Indian thewhile. "What's on your mind?" demanded Cap Pike, returning with his whitelocks dripping from a skimpy bath. "Our grub stake is about gone, andyou've doubled the outfit. What's the next move?" "I'm playing a game in futures with Miguel, " stated Kit, shuffling thecards industriously. "Sounds loco to me, Bub, " observed the veteran. "Present indicationsare not encouraging as to futures there. Can't you see that he's got ajar from which his mind isn't likely to recover? Not crazy, you know, not a lunatic or dangerous, but just jarred from Pima man back toYaqui child. That's about the way I reckon it. " "You reckon right, and it's the Yaqui child mind I'm throwing thecards for. Best two out of three wins. " "What the----" "Highest cards for K. Rhodes, and I hike across the border with ouroutfit; highest cards for Miguel and my trail is blazed for the redgold of Alisal. This is Miguel's hand--ace high for Miguel!" Again he shuffled and cut. "A saucy queen, and red at that! Oh, you charmer!" "You got to hustle to beat that, Bub. Go on, don't be stingy. " Rhodes cut the third time, then stared and whistled. "The cards are stacked by the Indian! All three covered with warpaint. What's the use in a poor stray white bucking against that?" He picked out the cards and placed them side by side, ace, king andqueen of hearts. "Three aces could beat them, " suggested Pike. "Go on Bub, shuffle themup, don't be a piker. " Rhodes did, and cut ten of clubs. "Not even the right color, " he lamented. "Nothing less than two acesfor salvation, and I--don't--get--them!" A lonely deuce fell on the sand, and Rhodes eyed it sulkily as herolled a cigarette. "You poor little runt, " he apostrophized the harmless two-spot. "You've kicked me out of the frying pan into the fire, and a goodlikely blaze at that!" "Don't reckon I care to go any deeper into trouble than what we'vefound, " decided Pike. "Ordinary Indian scraps are all in the day'swork--same with a Mexican outfit--but, Bub, this slave-hunting graftgame with the state soldiery doing the raiding is too strong a combinefor two lone rangers to buck against. Me for the old U. S. Border, andget some of this devilish word to the peace advocates at home. " "They wouldn't believe you, and only about two papers along the borderwould dare print it, " observed Rhodes. "Every time a band of sunnyMexicans loot a ranch or steal women, the word goes north that againthe bloodthirsty Yaquis are on the warpath! Those poor devils neverleave their fields of their own will, and don't know why the Americanshave a holy dread of them. Yet the Yaqui is the best worker south ofthe line. " "If he wasn't the price wouldn't be worth the slave trader's valuabletime, " commented Pike. The Indian girl made a quick gesture of warning, just a sweep outwardof her hand along the ground. She didn't even look at them, but downthe arroya, the trail they had come. "_Caballos, hombres!_" she muttered in her throat. "The kid's right, --hear them!" said Rhodes, and then he looked at him, and made a strange movement of eyes and head to direct the attentionback of her in the thicket of cactus and squat greasewood. He did notlook at once, but finally with a circular sweep of the locality, hesaw the light glint on a gun barrel along the edge of a little mesaabove them. "Nice friendly attention, " he observed. "Someone sizing us up. Time tohit the trail anyway, Cap;--to get through on the grub we have totravel tonight. " He rose and handed the water bottles to the girl to fill, while hetightened cinches. "It's a long day's trip, Cap, " he stated thoughtfully, "a long day outto Carrizal, and a long one back to Mesa Blanca. I'll divide the dustand the grub fifty-fifty, and you get out to some base of supplies. I'd rather you'd take Pardner, and keep on going across the line. Thetrail is clear from here for you, and enough water holes andsettlements for you to get through. I don't think Pardner would lastfor the back trip, but you can save him by riding at night; the burroand mule are best for us. Here's the dust. " While Pike had been talking of crossing the border, Kit had beenrapidly readjusting the provision so that the old chap had enough tocarry him to the first settlement, and the gold dust would more thanpay for provision the rest of the way. "Why--say, Bub!" remonstrated Pike. "You're so sudden! I don't allowto leave you by your lonesomes like this. Why, I had planned----" "There's nothing else to do, " decided Rhodes crisply. "If you don'tbeat it with Pardner, we'll lose him, sure! I'm going to take theseIndians back, and you can help most by waiting north of the line tillyou hear from me. I'll get word to you at Granados. So, if thereshould be any trouble with these visitors of ours, your trail isclear;--savvy?" Two men rode into view in the bend of the arroya. A cartridge beltacross each shoulder, and one around each waist, was the mostimportant part of their equipment. "_Buenos dias_, seņors, " said one politely, while his little blackeyes roved quickly over the group. "Is there still water to be foundin the well here? _Dios!_ it is the heat of hell down there in thevalley. " "At your service, seņor, is water fresh drawn, " said Rhodes, andturned to the girl, "Oija, Tulita!--water for the gentlemen. You ridefar, seņor?" "From Soledad wells. " "Yes, I know the brand, " remarked Rhodes. "This is a good season in which to avoid too much knowledge, or toogood a memory, seņor, " observed the man who had not spoken. "Manyherds will change hands without markets before tranquility is over inMexico. " "I believe you, seņor, and we who have nothing will be the luckyones, " agreed Rhodes, regarding the man with a new interest. He wasnot handsome, but there was a something quick and untamed in his keen, black eyes, and though the mouth had cruel hard lines, his tone wascertainly friendly, yet dominating. "What have you here?" he asked with a gesture toward Miguel. "My Indian who tried to save his women from slavers, and was left fordead, " stated Rhodes frankly. "And this?" He pointed to the girl filling again the water bottles. "She is mine, seņor. We go to our own homes. " "Hum! you should be enlisted in the fights and become capitan, butthese would drop by the trail if you left them. Well, another timeperhaps, seņor! For the water many thanks. _Adios!_" and with wave ofthe hand they clattered down the arroya. "Queer, " muttered Rhodes, "did you catch that second chap signal tothe gun man in the cactus? He craw-fished back over the mesa and fadedaway. " "They didn't come for water alone--some scouten' party trailin' everysign found, " decided Pike. "I'll bet they had us circled before thetwo showed themselves. Wonder who they are after?" "Anyway they didn't think us worth while gathering in, which is acomfort. That second fellow looks like someone I've crossed trailswith, but I can't place him. " "They'll place you all right, all right!" prophesied Pike darkly, "youand your interesting family won't need a brand. " Rhodes stared at him a moment and then grinned. "Right you are, Cap. Wouldn't it be pie for the gossips to slice upfor home consumption?" He kept on grinning as he looked at the poor bit of human flotsam whomhe had dubbed "the owl" because of her silence and her eyes. Shearoused Miguel without words, watching him keenly for faintest sign ofrecovery. The food and sleep had refreshed him in body, but the mindwas far away. To the girl he gave no notice, and after a longbewildered stare at Rhodes he smiled in a deprecating way. "Your pardon, Don José, that I outsleep the camp, " he mutteredhaltingly. "It is a much sickness of the head to me. " "For that reason must you ride slowly today, " stated Rhodes with quickcomprehension of the groping mind, though the "Don José" puzzled him, and at first chance he loitered behind with the girl and questionedher. "How makes itself that I must know all the people in the world beforeI was here on earth?" she asked morosely? "Me he does not know, DonJosé is of Soledad and is of your tallness, so----" "Know you the man who came for water at the caņon well?" he asked, andshe looked at him quickly and away. "The name of the man was not spoke by him, also he said a true word ofbrands on herds--these days. " "In these days?" reflected Rhodes, amazed at the ungirlish logic. "Youknow what he meant when he said that?" "We try that we know--all we, for the Deliverer is he named, and bythat name only he is spoke in the prayers we make. " Rhodes stared at her, incredulous, yet wondering if the dusty vaquerolooking rider of brief words could be the man who was called outlaw, heathen, and bandit by Calendria, and "Deliverer" by these people ofbondage. "You think that is true;--he will be the deliverer?" "I not so much think, I am only remembering what the fathers say andthe mothers. Their word is that he will be the man, if--if----" "Well, if what?" he asked as she crossed herself, and dropped herhead. "I am not wanting to say that thing. It is a scare on the heart whenit is said. " "I'd rather be prepared for the scare if it strikes me, " he announced, and after a thoughtful silence while she padded along beside him, shelowered her voice as though to hide her words from the evil fates. "Then will I tell it you:--a knife in the back is what they fear forhim, or poison in his cup. He is hated by strong haters, also he makesthem know fear. I hearing all that in the patio at Palomitas, and oldTio Polonio is often saying all saviors are crucified. How youthink?" Rhodes replied vaguely as to the wisdom of Tio Polonio, for the girlwas giving him the point of view of the peon, longing for freedom, yetfatalistic as the desert born ever are. And she had known the rebelleader, Ramon Rotil, all the time! He had no doubt but that she was right. Her statement explained thefamiliar appearance of the man he had not met before, though he hadseen pictures in newspapers or magazines. Then he fell to wonderingwhat Ramon Rotil was doing in a territory so far from the troops, and---- "Don José is one of the strong men who are hating him much, " confidedthe child. "Also Don José comes not north alone ever anymore, alwaysthe soldiers are his guard. Tio Polonio tells things of thesesoldiers. " "What kind of things?" "They are killing boys like rabbits in Canannea, --pacifico boys whocould grow to Calendrista soldiers. Such is done by the guard of DonJosé and all the friends of the Deliverer are killed with a quickness. That is how the men of Don José Perez please him most, and in thesouth there are great generals who work also with him, and his hand ismade strong, also heavy, and that is what Tio Polonio is telling usoften. " When they reached the mouth of the little caņon of the Yaqui wellwhere the trails divide, Pike shook hands and climbed into the saddleof Pardner. "It's the first time I ever took the easy way out, and left the fightalone to a chum, --but I'll do it, Bub, because you could not make aquick get-away with me tagging along. Things look murkier in thisterritory every minute. You'll either have the time of your life, ora headstone early in the game. Billie and I will put it up though wewon't know where you're planted. I don't like it, but the minutes andwater for the trail are both precious. Come out quick as you can. Solong!" Pardner, refreshed by cooling drink and an hour's standing in wet mudof the well drainage, stepped off briskly toward the north, whileRhodes lifted Tula to the back of the pack mule, and Miguel unheedingall plans or changes, drooped with closed eyes on the back of thelittle burro. The manager of the reorganized gold-search syndicatestrode along in the blinding glare of the high sun, herding them aheadof him, and as Pike turned for a last look backward at a bend of thetrail, the words of the old darkey chant came to him on the desertair: _Oh, there was a frog lived in the spring!_ CHAPTER X A MEXICAN EAGLET The silver wheel of the moon was rolling into the west when the Indiangirl urged the mule forward, and caught the bridle of the burro. "What is it, Tula?" asked Rhodes, "we are doing well on the trail toMesa Blanca; why stop here?" "Look, " she said. "See you anything? Know you this place in theroad?" He looked over the sand dunes and scrubby desert growths stretchingfar and misty under the moon, and, then to the rugged gray range ofthe mountain spur rising to the south. They were skirting the veryedge of it where it rose abruptly from the plain; a very great grayupthrust of granite wall beside them was like a gray blade slanted outof the plain. He had noticed it as one of the landmarks on the road toMesa Blanca, and on its face were a few curious scratchings orpeckings, one a rude sun symbol, and others of stars and waves ofwater. He recalled remarking to Pike that it must have been a prayerplace for some of the old tribes. "Yes, I know the place, when we reach this big rock it means that weare nearing the border of the ranch, this rock wall tells me that. Wecan be at Palomitas before noon. " "No, " she said, and got down from the mule, "not to Palomitas now. Here we carry the food, and here we hide the saddles, and the mule gofree. The burro we take, nothing else. " "Where is a place to hide saddles here?" and he made gesture towardthe great granite plane glistening in the moonlight. "A place is found, " she returned, "it is better we ride off the trailat this place. " She did so, circling back the way they had come until they wereopposite a more broken part of the mountain side, then she begandeftly to help unsaddle. "Break no brush and make all tracks like an Apache on the trail, " shesaid. Miguel sat silent on the burro as if asleep. He had never once rousedto give heed to the words or the trail through the long ride. At timeswhere the way was rough he would mutter thanks at the help of Kit andsink again into stupor. "I can't spare that mule, " protested Kit, but she nodded her head asif that had been all thought out. "He will maybe not go far, there is grass and a very little springbelow. Come now, I show you that hidden trail. " She picked up one of the packs and led the burro. "But we can't pack all this at once, " decided Kit, who was beginningto feel like the working partner in a nightmare. "Two times, " said Tula, holding up her fingers, "I show you. " She led the way, nervous, silent and in haste, as though in fear ofunseen enemies. Rhodes looked after her irritably. He was fagged andworn out by one of the hardest trails he had ever covered, and was inno condition to solve the curious problems of the Indian mind, but thegirl had proven a good soldier of the desert, and was, for the firsttime, betraying anxiety, so as the burro disappeared in the blue mist, and only the faint patter of his hoofs told the way he had gone, Kitpicked up the saddle and followed. The way was rough and there was no trail, simply stumbling betweengreat jagged slabs hewn and tossed recklessly by some convulsion ofnature. Occasionally dwarfed and stunted brush, odorous with the faintdew of night, reached out and touched his face as he followed up andup with ever the forbidding lances of granite sharp edged against thesky. From the plain below there was not even an indication thatprogress would be possible for any human being over the range ofshattered rock, and he was surprised to turn a corner and find Tulahelping Miguel from the saddle in a little nook where scant herbagegrew. "No, not in this place we camp, " she said. "It is good only to hidesaddles and rest for my father. Dawn is on the trail, and the otherpacks must come. " He would have remonstrated about a return trip, but she held up herhand. "It must be, if you would live, " she said. "The eyes of you have notyet seen what they are to see, it is not to be told. All hiding mustbe with care, or----" She made swift pantomime of sighting along a gun barrel at him, andeven in the shadows he could fancy the deadly half closing of herungirlish eyes. Tula did not play gaily. Tired as he was, Kit grinned. "You win, " he said. "Let's hit what would be the breeze if this friedland could stir one up. " They plodded back without further converse, secured the packs, andthis time it was Rhodes who led, as there appeared no possible way butthe one they had covered. Only once did he make a wrong turn and asharp "s-st" from the girl warned him of the mistake. They found Miguel asleep, and Kit Rhodes would willingly have sunkdown beside him and achingly striven for the same forgetfulness, butTula relentlessly shook Miguel awake, got him on the burro, unerringlydesignated the food bag in the dark, and started again in the lead. "I reckon you're some sort of Indian devil, " decided Kit, shoulderingthe bag. "No mere mortal ever made this trail or kept it open. " Several times the towering walls suggested the bottom of a well, andas another and another loomed up ahead, he gloomily prophesied anultimate wall, and the need of wings. Then, just as the first faint light began in the eastern heavens, hewas aware that the uneven trail was going down and down, zig-zagginginto a ravine like a great gray bowl, and the bottom of it filled withshadows of night. The girl was staggering now with exhaustion though she would notconfess it. Once she fell, and he lifted her thinking she was hurt, but she clung to him, shaking from weakness, but whispering, "_Pronto, pronto!_" "Sure!" he agreed, "all the swiftness the outfit can muster. " Curious odors came to him from the shadowy bowl, not exactly apleasing fragrance, yet he knew it--But his mind refused to work. Asthe trail grew wider, and earth was under his feet instead of rockslivers and round boulders, he discovered that he was leading theburro, the grub sack over his shoulder, and with the other arm wassupporting the girl, who was evidently walking with closed eyes, ableto progress but not to guide herself. Then there was the swish-swish of grasses about their feet and poorBunting snatched mouthfuls as all three staggered downward. The lightbegan to grow, and somewhere in the shadowy bowl there was the mostblest sound known in the desert, the gurgle of running water! "We hear it--but we can't believe it--old Buntin', " muttered Kitholding the burro from steady and stubborn attempts to break away, "and you are just loco enough to think you smell it. " Then suddenly their feet struck rock again, not jagged or slipperyfragments, but solid paving, and a whiff of faint mist drifted acrosshis face in the gray of the first dawn, and the burro craned his neckforward at the very edge of a black rock basin where warm vapor struckthe nostrils like a soporific. The girl roused herself at a wordless exclamation from Rhodes, andbegan automatically helping Miguel from the saddle, and stripping himto the breechcloth. Kit's amazement startled him out of his lethargy of exhaustion. It waslight enough now to see that her eyes were bloodshot, and hermovements quick with a final desperation. "There!" she said and motioned towards a shelving place in the rock, "there--medicine--all quick!" She half lifted the staggering, unconscious Indian, and Kit, perceiving her intention, helped her with Miguel to the shallow edgeof the basin where she rolled him over until he was submerged to theshoulder in the shallow bath, cupping her hands she scooped water anddrenched his face. "Why, --it's warm!" muttered Kit. "Medicine, " said Tula, and staggered away. How Rhodes shed his own garments and slipped into the basin besideMiguel he never knew, only he knew he had found an early substitutefor heaven. It was warm sulphur water, --tonic, refreshing andinfinitely soothing to every sore muscle and every frazzled nerve. Heducked his head in it, tossed some more over the head and shoulders ofthe sleeping Indian, and then, submerged to his arms, he promptlydrifted into slumber himself. He wakened to the sound of Baby Bunting pawing around the grub pack. Hunger was his next conviction, for the heavenly rest in the medicinebath had taken every vestige of weariness away. He felt lethargic fromthe sulphur fumes, and more sleep was an enticing thought, yet he putit from him and got into his clothes after the use of a handkerchiefas a bath towel. Miguel still slept and Kit bent over him in someconcern, for the sleep appeared curiously deep and still, the breathcoming lightly, yet he did not waken when lifted out of the water andcovered with a poncho in the shade of a great yucca. "I reckon it's some dope in these hot springs, " decided Kit. "I feeltop heavy myself, and won't trouble him till I've rustled some gruband have something to offer. Well, Buntin', we are all here but thedaughter of the Glen, " he said, rescuing the grub sack, "and if shewas a dream and you inveigled me here by your own diabolical powers, I've a hunch this is our graveyard; we'll never see the world and itsvanities again!" A bit of the blue and scarlet on a bush above caught his eye. It wasthe belt of Tula, and he went upwards vaguely disturbed that he haddrifted into ease without question of her welfare. He found her emerging from a smaller rock basin, her one garmentdripping a wet trail as she came towards him. There was no smile inher greeting, but a look of content, of achievement. "My father, " she said, "he is----" "Sleeping beyond belief! good medicine sleep, I hope. " She nodded her head comprehendingly, for she had done the impossibleand had triumphed. She looked at the sack of food he held. "There is one place for fire, and other water is there. Come, it is toyou. " She struck off across the sun-bathed little grass plot to a jumble ofrock where a cool spring emerged, ran only a few rods, and sank againout of sight. The shattered rock was as a sponge, so completely wasthe water sucked downward again. Marks of burro's hoofs were there. "Baby Buntin' been prospecting while we wallowed in the dope bath, "said Kit. "Maybe so, maybe not, " uttered the Indian child, if such she could becalled after the super-woman initiative of that forbidding trail. Shewas down on her knees peering at the tracks in the one little wet spotbelow the spring. "Two, " she said enigmatically. "That is good, much good. It will bemeat. " Then she saw him pulling dry grasses and breaking branches of scrubgrowth for a fire, and she stood up and motioned him to follow. Theywere in a narrow, deep ravine separated from the main one by theminiature plain of lush grass, a green cradle of rest in the heart ofthe gray hills. She went as directly upward as the broken rock wouldpermit, and suddenly he followed her into a blackened cave formed by agreat granite slab thrusting itself upwards and enduring through theages when the broken rock had shattered down to form an opposite wall. And the cloud bursts of the desert had swept through, and washed thesands clear, leaving a high black roof slanting upwards to thesummit. Tula moved ahead into the far shadows. He could see that beyond hersomewhere a ray of light filtered blue, but he halted at the entrance, puzzled at the black roof where all the rock of the mountain was grayand white except where mineral streaks were of reds and russets andmoldy greens. Then he put his hand up and touched the roof andunderstood. Soot from ancient fires was discernible on his hand, flakes of it fell to the floor, dry and black, scaling off underpressure. The scales were thick and very old, like blackened moss. Hehad seen blackened rock like that in other volcanic regions, but thiswas different. "It is here, " said Tula, and he followed the voice through a darkershadowed bit of the way, then through the ray of light, and then---- The first thing he saw was the raised hearth of a rather pretentiousfireplace, or place of fire, for it resembled not at all the tinylittle cooking hearth of desert Indians. A stone hatchet lay besideit, and, what was much more surprising, two iron instruments of whiteman's manufacturing, a wedge and a long chisel. He picked up the chisel, weighed it in his hand, and looked at thegirl. He was now becoming accustomed to the dim light and could seeher eyes following his every movement with curious questioning. Therewas a tiny frowning wrinkle between her brows as if serious matterswere being decided there. "It is here, " she said again. "Maybe someone dies when a white friendis shown the way--maybe I die, who knows?--but it is here--El Alisalof the gold of the rose!" She made a little gesture and moved aside, and the chisel fell to thestone floor with a clang as Kit shouted and dropped on his kneesbefore an incredible thing in the gray wall. That upthrust of the rock wall had strange variety of color, andbetween the granite and the gray limestone there was a ragged rustyband of iron as a note of contrast to the sprinkling of glitteringquartz catching the ray of light, but the quartz was sprinkled on asix inch band of yellow--not the usual quartz formation with dots ofcolor, but a deep definite yellow held together by white crystals. "The red gold! it's the red gold!" he said feeling the yellow surfaceinstinctively. "Yes, seņor, it is the red gold of El Alisal, and it is to you, " buther eyes were watching him hungrily as she spoke. And something ofthat pathetic fear penetrated his amazed mind, and he remembered. "No, Tula, only my share to me. I do the work, but the great share isto you, that it may buy back your mother from the slavers of thesouth. " "Also my sister, " said the girl, and for the first time she wept. "Come, come! This is the time for joy. The danger is gone, and we areat rest beside this--why, it's a dream come true, the golden dream!Come, help me cook that we may be strong for the work. " She helped silently, fetching water and more sticks for the fire. There were many things to ask, but he asked no questions, only gazedbetween bites and sups at the amazing facts facing him. "I've seen ores and ores in my time, but nothing like this!" heexulted. "Why, I can 'high grade' mule loads of this and take it outwithout smelting, " and then he grinned at his little partner. "We juststruck it in time, --meat is mighty near done. " "Plenty meat!" she said nodding her head wisely. "Burro, big burro, wild burro! I see track. " "Wild burro? Sure, that makes it simple till we rest up. You are onegreat little commissary sergeant. " He noted that the pitch of the roof towards the face of the mountaincarried the smoke in a sort of funnel to be sifted through highunseen crannies of shattered rock above. All was dark in the end ofthe gallery, but a perceptible draught from the portal bore the smokeupward. "It's too good to be true, " he decided, looking it over. "I'm chewingbacon and it tastes natural, but I'm betting with myself that this isa dream, and I'll wake up in the dope pond with my mouth full ofsulphur water. " The girl watched him gravely, and ate sparingly, though parched cornhad been her only sustenance through the trail of the dreadful night. Her poor sandals were almost cut from her feet, and even while jestingat the unreality of it all, Kit was making mental note of herneeds--the wild burro would at least provide green hide sandals forher until better could be found, and she had earned the best. He was amazed at her keenness. She did not seem to think, butinstinctively to feel her way to required knowledge, caring forherself in the desert as a fledgling bird tossed by some storm fromthe home nest. He remembered there were wild burros in the Sonorahills, but that she should have already located one on this mostbarren of mountains was but another unbelievable touch to the trail ofenchantment, and after a century of lost lives and treasure in thesearch for the Indian mine, to think that this Indian stray, picked upon a desolate trail, should have been the one to know that secret andlead him to it! "Other times you have been here?" he asked as he poured coffee in atin for Miguel, and dug out the last box of crackers from the grubpack. "Once I come, one time, and it was to make prayer here. It is mine toknow, but not my mother, not other peoples, only the father of me andme. If I die then he show the trail to other one, not if I live. Thatis how. " "He surely picked the right member of his honorable family, " decidedKit. "Only once over the trail, once?" "I knowing it long before I see it, " she explained gravely. "Thefather of me make that trail in the sand for my eyes when I am onlylittle. I make the same for him in a game to play. When I make everyturn right, and name the place, and never forget--then he bring me, for it is mine to know. " "Sufferin' cats!" muttered Rhodes, eyeing her in wonder. "The nexttime I see an Indian kid playing in the sand, I'll linger on the trailand absorb wisdom!" "Come, " she said, "you not seeing the one enchant look, the--how yousay?--the not believe look. " "Well, take it from me, Cinderella, I'm seeing not believe things thisvery now, " announced Kit, giving a fond look towards that comfortinggleam of yellow metal bedding flecks of quartz. "I see it, but willhave to sleep, and wake up to find it in the same place before I canbelieve what I think I see. " With the food and drink for Miguel in his hands he had followed thegirl through the shadowed gallery of the slanting smoke-stained roof. His eyes were mainly directed to the rock floor lest he stumble andspill the precious coffee; thus he gave slight thought to the littleravine up which she had led him to the cave which was also a mine. But as he stepped out into the sunlight she stood looking up into hisface with almost a smile, the first he had seen in her wistful tragiceyes. Then she lifted her hand and pointed straight out, and the"enchant look, " the "not believe" look was there! He stared as at amirage for an incredulous moment, and then whispered, "Great God ofthe Desert!" For a little space, a few rods only, the mountain dipped steeply, andtrickling water from above fell in little cascades to lower levels, where a great jagged wall of impregnable granite arose as a barrieralong the foot of the mountain. But he was above the sharp outline of the huge saw with the jaggedgranite teeth, and between the serrated edges he could look far acrossthe yellow-gray reaches of sand and desert growths. Far and wide wasthe "not believe" look, to the blue phantom-like peaks on the horizon, but between the two ranges was a white line with curious dots driftingand whirling like flies along it, and smoke curling up, and---- Then it was he uttered the incredulous cry, for he was indeed viewingthe thing scarce to be believed. He was looking across the great Rancho Soledad, and the white lineagainst the sand was the wall of the old mission where the vaqueroswere herding a band of horses into the great quadrangle of theone-time patio turned into a corral since the buildings on three sideshad melted down again into mother earth. He remembered riding around these lines of the old arches seekingtrace of that door of the legend, --the door from which the aliso treeof the mine could be seen, --and there was nowhere a trace of a door. "Queer that every other part of the prospect developed accordingto specifications and not the door, " he grumbled whimsically. "Cinderella, why have you hid the door in the wall from me?" She looked around uncertainly, not understanding. "No portal but it, " she said with a movement of her head towards thegreat slab forming a pointed arch against the mountain and shieldingthe unbelievable richness there, "also El Alisal, the great tree, isgone. This was the place of it; the old ones tell my father it was aschief of the trees and stand high to be seen. The sky fire took it, and took the padres that time they make an altar in this place. " "Um, " assented Kit, noting traces of ancient charcoal where the alisotree had grown great in the moisture of the spring before lightninghad decided its tragic finish, "a great storm it must have been tosend sky fire enough to kill them all. " "Yes, " said Tula quietly, --"also there was already another shrine atthis place, and the gods near. " He glanced at her quickly and away. "Sure, " he agreed, "sure, that's how it must have been. They destroyedthe aliso and there was no other landmark to steer by. White men mightfind a thousand other dimples in the range but never this one, thesaw-tooth range below us has the best of them buffaloed. Come along, Seņorita Aladdin, and help me with the guardian of the treasure. We'vegot to look after Miguel, and then start in where the padres left off. And you might do a prayer stunt or two at the shrine you mentioned. Weneed all the good medicine help you can evoke. " As they approached the pool where the faintest mist drifted above thewater warm from hidden fires of the mountain, Kit halted before hequite reached the still form beside the yucca, and, handing the foodand drink to the girl, he went forward alone. He was puzzled afterward as to why he had done that, for no fold ofthe garment was disturbed, nothing visible to occasion doubt, yet hebent over and lifted the cover very gently. The face of Miguel wasstrangely gray and there was no longer sign of breath. The medicine ofthe sacred pool had given him rest, but not life. He replaced the blanket and turned to the girl;--the last of theguardians of the shrine of the red gold. "Little sister, " he said, "Miguel grew tired of the trails of a hardland. He has made his choice to go asleep here in the place where youtell me the gods are near. He does not want us to have sad hearts, forhe was very sad and very tired, and he will not need food, Tula. " Her eyes filled with tears, but she made no reply, only unbound herhair as she had seen mourning women do, and seated herself apart, herface hidden in her arms. "No one is left to mourn but me, and I mourn!" she half chanted. "Isay it for the mother of me, and for my sister, that the ghosts maylisten. Happily he is going now from hard trails! He has chosen atthis place! Happily he has chosen, and only we are sad. No debt isours to pay at this place; he has chosen--and a life is paid at ElAlisal! Happily he will find the trail of the birds from this place, and the trail of the clouds over the high mountain. No one is left tomourn but me; and I mourn!" Rhodes understood no word of her lamentations, chanted now loudly, nowlowly, at intervals hour after hour that day. He set grimly to workdigging a grave in the lower part of the ravine, gathering dry grassfor lining as best he could to make clear to the girl that no lack ofcare or honor was shown the last man of Cajame's stock. The work took most of the day, for he carried stone and built a wallaround the grave and covered it with slatelike slabs gathered from ashattered upheaval of long ago. Tula watched all this gravely, and with approval, for she drew withher finger the mark of the sun symbol on one of the slabs. "It is well to make that mark, " she said, "for the sons of Cajame werepriests of the sun. The sign is on the great rock of the trail, and itis theirs. " With the chisel he carved the symbol as she suggested, glad to doanything for the one mourner for the dead man who had offered thetreasure of the desert to him. "That is how he made choice, " she said when it was marked plainly. "Me, I think he was leading us on the night trail to this place--Ithink so. He is here to guard the gold of El Alisal for you. That ishow it will be. He has made choice. " Kit got away by himself to think over the unexpected situation. Thegirl climbed to a higher point, seated herself, and continued herchant of mourning. He knew she was following, as best she knew, thetraditional formalities of a woman for the death of a chief. He foundhimself more affected by that brave fatalistic recital, now loud andbrave, now weirdly slow and tender, than if she had given way totempests of tears. A man could comfort and console a weeping stray ofthe desert, but not a girl who sat with unbound hair under the yuccaand called messages to the ghosts until the sun, --a flaming ball offire, --sank beyond the far purple hills. And that was the first day of many days at the hidden treasure placeof the red gold. CHAPTER XI GLOOM OF BILLIE The return of Captain Pike on Kit's horse was a matter of considerableconjecture at Granados, but the old prospector was so fagged that atfirst he said little, and after listening to the things Billie had totell him--he said less. "That explains the curious ways of the Mexicans as I reached theborder, " he decided. "They'd look first at the horse, then at me, butasked no questions, and told me nothing. Queer that no word reached usabout Singleton! No, it isn't either. We never crossed trails with anyfrom up here. There's so much devilment of various sorts going on downthere that a harmless chap like Singleton wouldn't be remembered. " "Conrad's down at Magdalena now, but we seldom know how far he ranges. Sometimes he stays at the lower ranch a week at a time, and he mightgo on to Sinaloa for all we know. He seems always busy and isextremely polite, but I gave him the adobe house across the arroyaafter Papa Phil--went. I know he has the Mexicans thinking Kit Rhodescame back for that murder; half of them believe it!" "Well, I reckon I can prove him an alibi if it's needed. I'll go seethe old judge. " "He'll tell you not to travel at night, or alone, if you knowanything, " she prophesied. "That's what he tells me. To think of oldRancho Granados coming to that pass! We never did have trouble hereexcept a little when Apaches went on the warpath before my time, andnow the whole border is simmering and ready to boil over if anyonestruck a match to it. The judge hints that Conrad is probably only onecog in the big border wheel, and they are after the engineer who turnsthat wheel, and do you know you haven't told me one word of KitRhodes, or whether he's alive or dead!" "Nothing to tell! We didn't find it, and he took the back trail withan Indian girl and her daddy, and----" "An--Indian girl?" "Yes, a queer little kid who was in a lot of trouble. Her father waswounded in one of the fracases they have down there every littlewhile. Nary one of us could give an address when we took differenttrails, for we didn't know how far we'd be allowed to travel--thewarring factions are swarming and troublesome over the line. " "Well, if a girl could stand the trail, it doesn't look dangerous. " "Looks are deceptive, child, --and this isn't just any old girl! It's arare bird, it's tougher than whalebone and possessed of a wise littledevil. She froze to Kit as a _compadre_ at first chance. He headedback to Mesa Blanca. I reckon they'd make it, --barring accidents. " "Mesa Blanca? That's the Whitely outfit?" "Um!" assented Pike, "but I reckon Whitely's hit the trail by now. There's no real profit in raising stock for the warriors down there;each band confiscates what he needs, and gives a promissory note on anempty treasury. " "Well, the attraction must be pretty strong to hold him down there inspite of conditions, " said Billie gloomily. "Attraction? Sure. Kit's gone loco on that attraction, " agreed the oldprospector, and then with a reminiscent light in his tired old eyes headded, "I reckon there's no other thing so likely to snare a man on adesert trail. You see, Billie-child, it's just as if the great God hadhid a treasure in the beginning of the world to stay hid till theright lad ambled along the trail, and lifted the cover, and when afellow has youth, and health and not a care in the world, the searchalone is a great game--And when he finds it!--why, Billie, thedictionary hasn't words enough to tell the story!" "No--I--I reckon not, " said his listener in a small voice, and when helooked around to speak to her again she had disappeared, and acrossthe patio Doņa Luz was coming towards him in no good humor. "How is it that poor little one weeps now when you are returned, andnot at other times?" she demanded. "Me, I have my troubles since thatday they find the Don Filipe shot dead, --_Jesusita_ give him rest!That child is watching the Sonora trail and waiting since that day, but no tears until you are come. I ask you how is the way of that?" Captain Pike stared at her reflectively. "You are a bringer of news, likewise a faithful warden, " he observed. "I'm peaceably disposed, and not wise to your lingo. Billie and mewere talking as man to man, free and confidential, and no argument. There were no weeps that I noticed. What's the reason why?" "The saints alone know, and not me!" she returned miserably. "I thinkshe is scared that it was the Seņor Rhodes who shooting Don Filipe, the vaqueros thinking that! But she tells no one, and she is unhappy. Also there is reason. That poor little one has the ranchos, but haveyou hear how the debts are so high all the herds can never pay? Thatis how they are saying now about Granados and La Partida, and at thelast our seņorita will have no herds, and no ranchos, and no peoplebut me. _Madre de Dios!_ I try to think of her in a little adobe bythe river with only _frijoles_ in the dinner pot, and I no see it thatway. And I not seeing it other way. How you think?" "I don't, it's too new, " confessed Pike. "Who says this?" "The Seņor Henderson. I hear him talk with Seņor Conrad, who has muchsorrow because the Don Filipe made bad contracts and losing the moneylittle and little, and then the counting comes, and it is big, verybig!" "Ah! the Seņor Conrad has much sorrow, has he?" queried Pike, "andBillie is getting her face to the wall and crying? That's queer. Billie always unloaded her troubles on me, and you say there was noneof this weeping till I came back?" "That is so, seņor. " "Cause why?" "_Quien sabe?_ She was making a long letter to Seņor Rhodes inSonora, --that I know. He sends no word, so--I leave it to you, seņor, it takes faith and more faith when a man is silent, and the word of akilling is against him. " "Great Godfrey, woman! He never got a letter, he knows nothing of akilling. How in hell--" Then the captain checked himself as he saw theuselessness of protesting to Doņa Luz. "Where's Billie?" Billie was perched on a window seat in the _sala_, her eyes were morethan a trifle red, and she appeared deeply engrossed in the pages of aweek-old country paper. "I see here that Don José Perez of Hermosillo is to marry Doņa DoloresTerain, the daughter of the general, " she observed impersonally. "Heowns Rancho Soledad, and promises the Sonora people he will drive therebel Rotil into the sea, and it was but yesterday Tia Luz was tellingme of his beautiful wife, Jocasta, who was only a little mountain girlwhen he rode through her village and saw her first. She is stillalive, and it looks to me as if all men are alike!" "More or less, " agreed Pike amicably, "some of us more, some of usless. Doņa Dolores probably spells politics, but Doņa Jocasta is awildcat of the sierras, and I can't figure out any harmonious days fora man who picks two like that. " "He doesn't deserve harmony; no man does who isn't true--isn't true, "finished Billie rather lamely. "Look here, honey child, " observed Pike, "you'll turn man hater if youkeep on working your imagination. Luz tells me you are cranky againstKit, and that the ranches are tied up in business knots tighter than Ihad any notion of, so you had better unload the worst you can thinkof on me; that's what I'm here for. What difference do the Perezfavorites make to our young lives? Neither Dolores nor Jocasta willhelp play the cards in our fortunes. " Wherein Captain Pike was not of the prophets. The wells of Sonora arenot so many but that he who pitches his tent near one has a view andgreetings of all drifting things of the desert, and the shadowed starof Doņa Jocasta of the south was leading her into the Soledadwilderness forsaken of all white men but one. CHAPTER XII COVERING THE TRAIL Each minute of the long days, Rhodes worked steadily and gaily, picking out the high grade ore from the old Indian mine, and everypossible night he and the burro and Tula made a trip out to the footof the range, where they buried their treasure against the happy daywhen they could go out of the silent desert content for the time withwhat gold they could carry in secret to the border. For two days he had watched the Soledad ranch house rather closelythrough the field glass, for there was more activity there thanbefore; men in groups rode in who were not herding. He wondered if itmeant a military occupation, in which case he would need to be doublycautious when emerging from the hidden trail. The girl worked as he worked. Twice he had made new sandals for her, and also for himself in order to save his boots so that they might atleast be wearable when he got among people. All plans had been thoughtout and discussed until no words would be needed between them whenthey separated. She was to appear alone at Palomitas with a tale ofescape from the slavers, and he was carefully crushing and mashingenough color to partly fill a buckskin bag to show as the usual fruitsof a prospect trip from which he was returning to Mesa Blanca afterexhausting grub stake and shoe leather. The things of the world had stood still for him during that hiddentime of feverish work. He scarcely dared try to estimate the value ofthe ore he had dug as honey from a hollow tree, but it was rich--rich!There were nuggets of pure gold, assorted as to their various sizes, while he milled and ground the quartz roughly, and cradled it in thewater of the brook. By the innocent aid of Baby Bunting, two wild burros of the sierra hadbeen enticed within reach for slaughter, and, aside from the foodvalues, they furnished green hide which under Kit's direction, Tuladeftly made into bags for carrying the gold. All activities during the day were carefully confined within a certainradius, low enough in the little caņon to run no risk in case anyinquisitive resident of Soledad should study the ranges with a fieldglass, though Kit had not seen one aside from his own since he enteredSonora. And he used his own very carefully every morning and eveningon the wide valley of Soledad. "Something doing down there, sister, " he decided, as they werepreparing for the last trail out. "Riders who look like cavalry, mules, and some wagons--mighty queer!" Tula came over and stood beside him expectantly. He had learned that alook through the magic glasses was the most coveted gift the campcould grant to her, and it had become part of the regular routine thatshe stood waiting her turn for the wide look, the "enchant look, " asshe had called it that first morning. It had become a game to try tosee more than he, and this time she mentioned as he had, the wagons, and mules, and riders. And then she looked long and uttered a briefIndian word of surprise. "Beat me again, have you?" queried Kit good humoredly. "What do youfind?" "A woman is there, in that wagon, --sick maybe. Also one man is apadre; see you!" Kit took the glasses and saw she was right. A man who looked like apriest was helping a woman from a wagon, she stumbled forward and thenwas half carried by two men towards the house. "Not an Indian woman?" asked Kit, and again her unchildlike mindworked quickly. "A padre does not bow his head to help Indian woman. Caballeros do notlift them up. " "Well I reckon Don José Perez is home on a visit, and brought hisfamily. A queer time! Other ranch folks are getting their women northover the border for safety. " "Don José not bring woman to Soledad--ever. He take them away. His mentake them away. " It was the first reference she had made to the slavers since they hadentered the caņon, though she knew that each pile of nuggets was partof the redemption money for those exiles of whom she did not speak. But she worked tirelessly until Kit would stop her, or suggest somerestful task to vary the steady grind of carrying, pounding, orwashing the quartz. He had ordered her to make two belts, that each ofthem might carry some of the gold hidden under their garments. She hada nugget tied in a corner of her _manta_, and other small onesfastened in her girdle, while in the belt next her body she carriedall he deemed safe to weight her with, probably five pounds. At anyhint of danger she would hide the belt and walk free. His own belt would carry ten pounds without undue bulkiness. And overthree hundred pounds of high grade gold was already safely hidden nearthe great rock with the symbols of sun and rain marking its weatheredsurface. "A fair hundred thousand, and the vein only scratched!" he exulted. "Iwas sore over losing the job on Billie's ranch, --but gee! this looksas if I was knocked out in the cold world to reach my good luck!" In a blue dusk of evening they left the camp behind and started overthe trail, after Tula had carefully left fragments of food on the tombof Miguel, placed there for the ghosts who are drawn to a comrade. Kit asked no questions concerning any of her tribal customs, since todo so would emphasize the fact that they were peculiar and strange tohim, and the Indian mind, wistfully alert, would sense thatstrangeness and lose its unconsciousness in the presence of an alien. So, when she went, after meals, to offer dregs of the soup kettle orbones of the burro, she often found a bunch of desert blossoms wiltingthere in the heat, and these tributes left by Kit went far tostrengthen her confidence. It was as if Miguel was a live partner intheir activities, never forgotten by either. So they left him onguard, and turned their faces toward the outer world of people. Knowing more than he dare tell the girl his mind was considerablyoccupied with that woman at Soledad, for military control changed overnight in many a province of Mexico in revolutionary days, and the timeat the hidden mine might have served for many changes. Starlight and good luck was on the trail for them, and at earlieststreak of dawn they buried their treasure, divided their dried burromeat, and with every precaution to hide the trail where they emergedfrom the gray sierra, they struck the road to Mesa Blanca. Until full day came Tula rode the burro, and slipped off at a ravinewhere she could walk hidden, on the way to Palomitas. "Buntin', " said Kit, watching her go, "we'll have pardners andpardners in our time, but we'll never find one more of a thoroughbredthan that raggedy Indian witch-child of ours. " He took the slanting cattle trail up over the mesa, avoiding the wagonroad below, and at the far edge of it halted to look down over thewide spreading leagues of the Mesa Blanca ranch. It looked very sleepy, drowsing in the silence of the noon sun. An oldIndian limped slowly from the corral over to the ranch house, and achild tumbled in the dust with a puppy, but there was no other sign ofranch activity. As he descended the mesa and drew nearer the corralsthey had a deserted look, not merely empty but deserted. The puppy barked him a welcome, but the child gave one frightened lookat Kit, and with a howl of fear, raced to the shelter of the portalwhere he disappeared in the shadows. "I had a hunch, Babe, that we needed smoothing down with a currycombbefore we made social calls, " confessed Kit to the burro, "but Ididn't reckon on scaring the natives in any such fashion as this. " He was conscious of peering eyes at a barred window, and then the oldIndian appeared. "Hello, Isidro!" "At your service, seņor, " mumbled the old man, and then he stared atthe burro, and at the bearded and rather desert-worn stranger, anduttered a cry of glad recognition. "Ai-ji! It is El Pajarito coming again to Mesa Blanca, but coming withdust in your mouth and no song! Enter, seņor, and take your rest inyour own house. None are left to do you honor but me, --all gone likethat!" and his skinny black hands made a gesture as if wafting thepersonnel of Mesa Blanca on its way. "The General Rotil has need thecattle, and makes a divide with Seņor Whitely and all go, --all theherds, " and he pointed east. Kit bathed his face in the cool water brought out by Valencia, Isidro's wife, then unloaded the burro of the outfit, and stretchedhimself in the shade while the women busied themselves preparingfood. "So General Rotil makes a divide of the cattle, --of Whitely's cattle?How is that?" he asked. And the old Indian proceeded to tell him that it was true. TheDeliverer must feed his army. He needed half, and promised Whitely tofurnish a guard for the rest of the herd and help Whitely save them bydriving them to Imuris, where the railroad is. "He said enemy troops would come from the south and take them all inone week or one month. He, Rotil, would pay a price. Thus it was, andSeņor Whitely, and enough vaqueros, rode with the herds, and GeneralRotil took the rest of the ranchmen to be his soldiers. Of course itmight be Seņor Whitely would some day return, who knows? And he left aletter for the seņor of the songs. " The letter corroborated Isidro's statements--it was the only way tosave any of the stock. Whitely thought there was a hundred or twostill ranging in the far corners, but time was short, and he wassaving what he could. The men were joining the revolutionists and hewould be left without help anyway. If Rhodes came back he was to usethe place as his own. If he could round up any more horses or cattleon the range and get them to safety Isidro would find some Indians tohelp him, and Whitely would divide the profits with him. "Fine!--divides first with the Deliverer, and next with me! Can't seewhere that hombre gets off when it comes to staking his own family toa living. But it's a bargain, and this is my headquarters until I canget out. How long has Whitely and his new friends been gone?" "Four days, seņor. " "Seen any stragglers of cattle left behind?" Isidro's grandson, Clodomiro, had found both horses and cattle andherded them into far caņons; a man might ride in a circle for fivemiles around the ranch house and see never a fresh track. Clodomirowas a good boy, and of much craft. Dinner was announced for the seņor, and the women showed him welcomeby placing before him the most beautiful repast they could arrangequickly, _chile con carne_, _frijoles_, _tortillas_, and a decanter ofSonora wine--a feast for a king! After he had eaten, tobacco was brought him from some little hiddenstore, and Isidro gave him the details of the slave raid of Palomitas, and Sonora affairs in general. Kit was careful to state that he hasbeen prospecting in the mountains and out of touch with ranch people, and it must be understood that all Isidro could tell would be news toa miner from the desert mountains. And he asked if General Rotil alsocollected stock from the ranch of Soledad. Whereupon Isidro told him many things, and among them the wonder thatSoledad had been left alone--the saints only knew why! And JuanGonsalvo, the foreman at Soledad, had helped with the slave raid, andwas known in Palomitas where they took girls and women and men aswell, even men not young! Miguel, the major-domo, was taken with hiswife and two daughters, the other men were young. The curse of Godseemed striking Sonora. A new foreman was now at Soledad, MartoCavayso, a hard man and, --it was said, a soldier, but he evidently gottired of fighting and was taking his rest by managing the horse herdsof Soledad. "Doesn't look like rest to me, " observed Kit. "The Soledad trail lookspretty well kicked into holes, with wagons, mules, and horsemen. " Isidro volunteered his opinion that work of the devil was goingforward over there. "Juan Gonsalvo and El Aleman were stealing women in Sonora, anddriving them the south trail for a price, " he stated. "But what thinkyou would be the price for a woman of emerald eyes and white skincarried up from the south under chains, and a lock to the chain?" "I reckon you are dreaming the lock and chain part of it, Isidro, "returned Kit. "Only murderers travel like that. " "_Si_, it is so. There at Soledad it is heard. A killing was done inthe south and Soledad is her prison. But she is beautiful, and the menare casting lots as to whose she shall be when the guard is gone southagain to Don José Perez. " "Ah! they are Don José's men, are they? Then the prisoner is guardedby his orders?" "Who knows? They tell that she is a lost soul, and fought for a knifeto kill herself, and the padre makes prayers and says hell will behers if she does. Elena, who is cook, heard him say that word, andElena was once wife to my brother, and she is telling that toClodomiro who makes an errand to take her deer meat, and hear of thestrangers. He saw the woman, her bracelets are gold, and her eyes aregreen. The padre calls her Doņa Jocasta. I go now and give drink tothat burro and make him happy. " "Jocasta, eh? Doņa Jocasta!" repeated Kit in wondering meditation. "Doesn't seem possible--but reckon it is, and there are no realsurprises in Sonora. Anything could, and does happen here. " He remembered Pike telling the story of Jocasta one morning by theircamp fire in the desert. She was called by courtesy Seņora Perez. Hehad not heard her father's name, but he was a Spanish priest and hermother an Indian half-breed girl--some little village in the sierras. There were two daughters, and the younger was blond as a child of OldSpain, Jocasta was the elder and raven dark of hair, a skin of deepcream, and jewel-green eyes. Kit had heard three men, includingIsidro, speak of Doņa Jocasta, and each had mentioned the wonderfulgreen eyes--no one ever seemed to forget them! Their magnetism had caught the attention of Don José, --a distinguishedand illustrious person in the eyes of the barefoot mountaineers. Noone knew what Jocasta thought of the exalted padrone of the widelands, whose very spurs were of gold, but she knew there was scarcewealth enough in all the village to keep a candle burning on theVirgin's shrine, and her feet had never known a shoe. The padre diedsuddenly just as Don José was making a bargain with him for the girl, so he swept Jocasta to his saddle with no bargain whatever except thatshe might send back for Lucita, her little sister, and other menenvied Perez his good luck when they looked at Jocasta. For threeyears she had been mistress of his house in Hermosillo, but never hadhe taken her into the wilderness of Soledad, --it was a crude casketfor so rich a treasure. Kit steeped in the luxury of a square meal, fell asleep, thinking ofthe green-eyed Doņa Jocasta whom no man forgot. He would not connect abrilliant bird of the mountain with that drooping figure he and Tulahad seen stumbling towards the portal of Soledad. And the statement ofIsidro that there had been a killing, and Doņa Jocasta was a lostsoul, was most puzzling of all. In a queer confused dream the killingwas done by Tula, and Billie wore the belt of gold, and had greeneyes. And he wakened himself with the apparently hopeless effort ofconvincing Billie he had never forgotten her despite the femininewitcheries of Sonora. The shadows were growing long, and some Indian boys were joggingacross the far flats. He reached for his field glass and saw that oneof them had a deer across his saddle. Isidro explained that the boyswere planting corn in a far field, and often brought a deer when theycame in for more seed or provisions. They had a hut and _ramada_ atthe edge of the planted land six miles away. They were good boys, Benito and Mariano Bravo, and seldom both left the fields at the sametime. He called to Valencia that there would be deer for supper, thenwatched the two riders as they approached, and smiled as theyperceptibly slowed up their broncos at sight of the bearded strangeron the rawhide cot against the wall. "See you!" he pointed out to Kit. "These are the days of changes. Eachday we looking for another enemy, maybe that army of the south, andthe boys they think that way too. " The boys, on being hailed, came to the house with their offering, andbunkered down in the shadow with a certain shy stolidity, until Kitspoke, when they at once beamed recognition, and made jokes of hisbeard as a blanket. But they had news to tell, great news, for a child of Miguel hadbroken away from the slavers and had hidden in the mountains, and atlast had found her way back to Palomitas. She was very tired and verypoor in raiment, and the people were weeping over her. Miguel, herfather, was dead from a wound, and was under the ground, and of theothers who went on she could tell nothing, only that Conrad, theGerman friend of Don José, was the man who covered his face and helpedtake the women. Her sister Anita had recognized him, calling out hisname, and he had struck her with a quirt. The women left their work to listen to this, and to add the memoriesof some of their friends who had hidden and luckily escaped. "That white man should be crucified and left for the vultures, " saidthe boy Benito. "No, " said the soft voice of Valencia, "God was sacrificed, but thisman is a white Judas; the death of God is too good for that man. Ithas been talked about. He will be found some place, --and the Judasdeath will be his. The women are making prayers. " "It will soon be Easter, " said Isidro. Kit did not know what was meant by a "Judas" death, though he did knowmany of the church legends had been turned by the Indians into strangeand lurid caricatures. He thought it would be interesting to see howthey could enlarge on the drama of Judas, but he made no comment, as adirect question would turn the Indians thoughtful, and silence them. They all appeared alert for the return of Rotil. No one believed hehad retired utterly from the region without demanding tribute fromSoledad. It was generally suspected that Perez received and heldmunitions for use against the revolutionists though no one knew wherethey were hidden. There were Indian tales of underground tunnels ofSoledad Mission for retreat in the old days in case of hostileattacks, and the Soledad ranch house was built over part of thatfoundation. No one at Soledad knew the entrance except Perez himself, though it was surmised that Juan Gonsalvo had known, and had been theone to store the mule loads and wagon loads of freight shipped overthe border before Miguel Herrara was caught at the work from theAmerican side. Perez was a careful man, and not more than one man wastrusted at one time. That man seemed marked by the angels foraccident, for something had always ended him, and it was no goodfortune to be a favorite of Don José--Doņa Jocasta was learning that! Thus the gossip and surmise went on around Rhodes for his brief hourof rest and readjustment. He encouraged the expression of opinion fromevery source, for he had the job ahead of him to get three hundredpounds of gold across the border and through a region where everyburro was liable to examination by some of the warring factions. Itbehooved him to consider every tendency of the genus homo with whichhe came in contact. Also the bonds between them, --especially thebonds, since the various groups were much of a sameness, and only"good" or "bad" according to their affiliations. Simple Benito and hisbrother, and soft-voiced motherly Valencia who could conceive a worsedeath for the German Judas than crucifixion, were typical of theprimitive people of desert and sierra. "How many head of stock think you still ranges Mesa Blanca?" he askedIsidro, who confessed that he no longer rode abroad or kept tally, but Clodomiro would know, and would be in to supper. Benito andMariano told of one stallion and a dozen mares beyond the hills, and aspring near their fields had been muddied the day before by a bunch ofcows and calves, they thought perhaps twenty, and they had seen threemules with the Mesa Blanca brand when they were getting wood. "Three mules, eh? Well, I may need those mules and the favor will beto me if you keep them in sight, " he said addressing the boys. "I amto round up what I can and remove them after Seņor Whitely, togetherwith other belongings. " "Others, seņor?" asked Isidro. Rhodes took the letter from his pocket, and perused it as if torefresh his memory. "The old Spanish chest is to go if possible, and other things of Mrs. Whitely's, " he said. "I will speak of these to your wife if the plancan carry, but there is chance of troops from the south and--whoknows?--we may be caught between the two armies and ground as meal ona _metate_. " He thus avoided all detail as to the loads the pack animals were tocarry, and the written word was a safe mystery to the Indian. He wasmaking no definite plans, but was learning all possibilities with amind prepared to take advantage of the most promising. Thus the late afternoon wore on in apparent restful idleness after thehard trail. The boys secured their little allowance of beans and salt, and corn for planting, but lingered after the good supper of Valencia, a holiday feast compared with their own sketchy culinary performancein the _jacal_ of the far fields. They scanned the trail towardsPalomitas, and then the way down the far western valley, evidentlyloath to leave until their friend Clodomiro should arrive, and Isidroexpected him before sunset. But he came later from towards Soledad, a tall lad with flutteringribbands of pink and green from his banda and his elbows, and a girdleof yellow fluttering fringed ends to the breeze, --all the frankinsignia of a youth in the market for marriage. He suggested a gaygraceful bird as he rode rapidly in the long lope of the range. Hisboy friends of the planted fields went out to meet him at the corral, and look after his horse while he went in to supper. He halted togreet them, and then walked soberly across the plaza where peppertrees and great white alisos trailed dusk shadows in the earlystarlight. "What _reata_ held you?" asked Isidro. "Has Soledad grown a place forcomradeship?" "No, seņor, " said the lad passing into the dining room where twocandles gave him light in the old adobe room, "it is comradeship we donot need, but it is coming to us. " He seated himself on the wooden bench and his grandmother helped himfrom a smoking plate of venison. He looked tired and troubled, and hehad not even taken note that a stranger was beside Isidro in theshadows. "What nettle stings you, boy?" asked his grandfather sarcastically, and at that he looked up and rose to his feet at sight of Rhodes. "Your pardon, seņor, I stumbled past like a bat blind in the light, "he muttered, and as he met Kit's eyes and recognized him his face litup and his white teeth gleamed in a smile. "The saints are in it that you are here again, seņor!" he exclaimed, "and you came on this day when most needed. " "Eat and then tell your meaning, " said Isidro, but Clodomiro glancedtoward the kitchen, and then listened for the other boys. They werelaughing down at the corral. Clodomiro's horse had thrown one ofthem. "With your permission, grandfather, talk first, " he said and the twomen moved to the bench opposite, leaning over towards him as his voicewas lowered. "Today Marto Cavayso sent for me, he is foreman over there, andstrange things are going forward. He has heard that General Rotilstripped Mesa Blanca and that all white people are gone from it. Hewants this house and will pay us well to open the door. It is for thewoman. They have played a game for her, and he has won, but she is awild woman when he goes near her, and his plan is to steal her out atnight and hide her from the others. So he wants this house. He offeredme a good gun. He offers us the protection of Don José Perez. " "But--why--that is not credible, " protested Kit. "He could not counton protection from Perez if he stole the woman whom many call SeņoraPerez, for that is what they did call Doņa Jocasta in Hermosillo. " "Maybe so, " assented Clodomiro stolidly, "but now he is to be the_esposo_ of a Doņa Dolores who is the child of General Terain, soMarto says. Well, this Doņa Jocasta has done some killing, and DonJosé does not give her to prison. He sends her to the desert that shebrings him no disgrace; and if another man takes her or sinks her inthe quicksands then that man will be helping Don José. That is how itis. Marto says the woman has bewitched him, and he is crazy about her. Some of the other men, will take her, if not him. " Kit exchanged a long look with the old Indian. "The house is yours, seņor, " said Isidro. "By the word of SeņorWhitely, you are manager of Mesa Blanca. " "Many thanks, " replied Kit, and sat with his elbows on the table andhis hands over his eyes, thinking--thinking of the task he had sethimself in Sonora, and the new turn of the wheel of fortune. "You say the lady is a prisoner?" he asked. "Sure, " returned Clodomiro promptly. "She broke loose coming through alittle pueblo and ran to the church. She found the priest and told himthings, so they also take that priest! If they let him go he willtalk, and Don José wanting no talk now of this woman. That priest iswell cared for, but not let go away. After awhile, maybe so. " "She is bright, and her father was a priest, " mused Kit. "So there isthree chances out of four that she can read and write, --a littleanyway. Could you get a letter to her?" "Elena could. " Kit got up, took one of the candles from the table and walked throughthe rooms surrounding the patio. Some of them had wooden bars in thewindows, but others had iron grating, and he examined thesecarefully. "There are two rooms fit for perfectly good jails, " he decided, "so Ivote we give this bewitched Don Marto the open door. How many guns canwe muster?" "He promised to give me one, and ammunition. " "Well, you get it! Get two if you can, but at least get plenty ofammunition. Isidro, will your wife be brave and willing to help?" The old Indian nodded his head vigorously and smiled. Evidently only astranger would ask if his Valencia could be brave! The two brothers came in, and conversation was more guarded untilClodomiro had finished his supper, and gone a little ways home withthem to repay them the long wait for comradeship. When he came back Kit had his plans fairly settled, and had a briefnote written to Seņora Jocasta Perez, as follows: HONORED SEŅORA: One chance of safety is yours. Let yourself be persuaded to leave Soledad with Marto. You will be rescued from him by AN AMERICAN. "I reckon that will do the trick, " decided Kit. "I feel like ablooming Robin Hood without the merry men, --but the Indians will playsafe, even if they are not merry. When can you get this to Elena?" "In time of breakfast, " said Clodomiro promptly. "I go tonight, andtomorrow night he steals that woman. Maybe Elena helps. " "You take Elena a present from me to encourage that help, " suggestedKit, and he poured a little of the gold from his belt on the paper. "Also there is the same for you when the lady comes safe. It is bestthat you make willing offer of your service in all ways so that hecalls on none of his own men for help. " "As you say, seņor, " assented Clodomiro, "and that will march wellwith his desires, for to keep the others from knowing is the principalthing. She has beauty like a lily in the shade. " "He tells you that?" asked Kit quizzically, but the boy shook hishead. "My own eyes looked on her. She is truly of the beauty of the holypictures of the saints in the chapel, but Marto says she is a witch, and has him enchanted;--also that evil is very strong in her. I do notknow. " "Well, cross your fingers and tackle the job, " suggested Kit. "Getwhat sleep you can, for you may not get much tomorrow night. It is thework of a brave man you are going to do, and your pay will be a man'spay. " The eyes of the Indian boy glowed with pleasure. "At your service, seņor. I will do this thing or I will not see MesaBlanca again. " Kit looked after Clodomiro and rolled another cigarette before turningin to sleep. "When all's said and done, I may be the chief goat of this dameadventure, " he told himself in derision. "Maybe my own fingers needcrossing. " CHAPTER XIII A WOMAN OF EMERALD EYES At the first break of dawn, Rhodes was up, and without waiting forbreakfast walked over to the rancherias of Palomitas to see Tula. She was with some little girls and old women carrying water from thewell as stolidly as though adventure had never stalked across herpath. A whole garment had been given her instead of the tatter of ragsin which she had returned to the little Indian pueblo. She repliedbriefly to his queries regarding her welfare, and when he asked whereshe was living, she accompanied him to an old adobe where there weretwo other motherless children--victims of the raiders. An old, half-blind woman stirred meal into a kettle of porridge, andto her Kit addressed himself. "A blessing will be on your house, but you have too many to feedhere, " he said "and the child of Miguel should go to the ranch houseof Mesa Blanca. The wife of Isidro is a good woman and will give hercare. " "Yes, seņor, she is a good woman, " agreed the old Indian. "Also it maybe a safe house for a maiden, who knows? Here it is not safe; otherraiders may come. " "That is true. Send her after she has eaten. " He then sought out one of the older men to learn who could be countedon to round up the stray cattle of the ranges. After that he went atonce back to the ranch house, and did not even speak to Tula again. There was nothing to indicate that she was the principal object of hisvisit, or that she had acquired a guardian who was taking his jobseriously. Later in the day she was brought to Mesa Blanca by an elderly Indianwoman of her mother's clan, and settled in the quiet Indian manner inthe new dwelling place. Valencia was full of pity for the girl of fewyears who had yet known the hard trail, and had mourned alone for herdead. There was a sort of suppressed bustle about _la casa de Mesa Blanca_that day, dainties of cookery prepared with difficulty from thediminished stores, and the rooms of the iron bars sprinkled and swept, and pillows of wondrous drawnwork decorated the more pretentious bed. To Tula it was more of magnificence than she had ever seen in herbrief life, and the many rooms in one dwelling was a wonder. She wouldstand staring across the patio and into the various doorways throughwhich she hesitated to pass. She for whom the wide silences of thedesert held few terrors, hesitated to linger alone in the shadows ofthe circling walls. Kit noted that when each little task was finishedfor Valencia, she would go outside in the sunlight where she had thefamiliar ranges and far blue mountains in sight. "Here it makes much trouble only to live in a house, " she saidpointing to the needlework on a table cover. "The bowls of food willmake that dirty in one eating, and then what? Women in fine housesare only as mares in time of thrashing the grain--no end and nobeginning to the work, --they only tread their circle. " "Right you are, sister, " agreed Kit, "they do make a lot of whirligigwork for themselves, all the same as your grandmothers paintingpottery that smash like eggshells. But life here isn't all play atthat, and there may be something doing before sleep time tonight. Iwent after you so I would have a comrade I knew would stick. " She only gazed at him without question. "You remember, Tula, the woman led by the padre at Soledad?" She nodded silently. "It may be that woman is captive to the same men who took yourpeople, " he said slowly watching her, "and it may be we can saveher. " "May it also be that we can catch the man?" she asked, and her eyeshalf closed, peered up at him in curious intensity. "Can that be, Ofriend?" "Some day it must surely be, Tula. " "One day it must be, --one day, and prayers are making all the timesfor that day, " she insisted stolidly. "The old women are talking, andfor that day they want him. " "What day, Tula?" "The Judas day. " Kit Rhodes felt a curious creepy sensation of being near an unseendanger, some sleeping serpent basking in the sun, harmless untilaroused for attack. He thought of the gentle domestic Valencia, andnow this child, both centered on one thought--to sacrifice a traitoron the day of Judas! "Little girls should make helpful prayers, " he ventured rather lamely, "not vengeance prayers. " "I was the one to make cry of a woman, when my father went under theearth, " she said. It was her only expression of the fact that she hadborne a woman's share of all their joint toil in the desert, --and hecaught her by the shoulder, as she turned away. "Why, Kid Cleopatra, it isn't a woman's work you've done at all. It'sa man's job you've held down and held level, " he declared heartily. "That's why I am counting on you now. I need eyes to watch when I haveto be in other places. " "I watch, " she agreed, "I watch for you, but maybe I make my ownprayers also;--all the time prayers. " "Make one for a straight trail to the border, and all sentriesasleep!" he suggested. "We have a pile of yellow rock to get across, to say nothing of our latest puzzling prospect. " As the day wore on the latest "prospect" presented many complicationsto the imagination, and he tramped the corridors of Mesa Blancawondering why he had seen but one side of the question the nightbefore, for in the broad light of day there seemed a dozen, and allleading to trouble! That emerald-eyed daughter of a renegade priesthad proven a host in herself when it came to breeding trouble. Shecertainly had been unlucky. "Well, it might be worse, " he confided to Bunting out in the corral. "Cap Pike might have tagged along to discourse on the generaltomfoolery of a partner who picks up a damsel in distress at everyfork of the trail. Not that he'd be far wrong at that, Baby. If anyhombre wanted to catch me in a bear trap he'd only need to bait itwith a skirt. " Baby Bunting nodded sagaciously, and nuzzled after Kit who wascleaning up the best looking saddle horse brought in from the Indianherd. It was a scraggy sorrel with twitchy ears and wicked eyes, butit looked tough as a mountain buck. Kit knew he should need two likethat for the northern trail, and had hopes that the bewitched MartoCavayso, whoever he was, would furnish another. He went steadily about his preparations for the border trail, just asif the addition of an enchantress with green-jewel eyes was an everyday bit of good fortune expected in every outfit, but as the desertranges flamed rose and mauve in the lowering sun there was a restlessexpectancy at the ranch house, bolts and locks and firearms were givenfinal inspection. Even at the best it was a scantily manned fort fordefense in case Mario's companions at dice should question his winningand endeavor to capture the stake. "I shall go part way on the Soledad trail and wait what happens, " hetold Isidro. "I will remain at a distance unless Clodomiro needs me. There is no telling what tricks this Cavayso may have up his sleeve. " "I was thinking that same thought, " said the old Indian. "The men ofPerez are not trusted long, even by Perez. When it is a woman, theyare not trusted even in sight! Go with God on the trail. " The ugly young sorrel ran tirelessly the first half of the way, justenough to prove his wind. Then they entered a caņon where scrubcottonwoods and greasebush gathered moisture enough for scant growthamong the boulders worn out of the cliffs by erosion. It was thesafest place to wait, as it was also the most likely place fortreachery if any was intended to Clodomiro. At either end of the passlay open range and brown desert, with only far patches of oasis wherea well was found, or a sunken river marked a green pasture in somevalley. When he wrote the note he had not thought of danger to Clodomiro, regarding him only as a fearless messenger, but if the boy shouldprove an incumbrance to Cavayso after they were free of Soledad, thatmight prove another matter, and as old Isidro had stated, no onetrusted a Perez man when a woman was in question! He dismounted to listen and seek safe shadow, for the dusk had come, and desert stars swung like brilliant lamps in the night sky, and thewhite rocks served as clear background for any moving body. The plan was, if possible, to get the woman out with Clodomiro whilethe men were at supper. The _manta_ of Elena could cover her, and ifshe could walk with a water jar to the far well as any Indian womanwould walk, and a horse hid in the willows there----! It had been well thought out, and if nothing had interfered theyshould have reached the caņon an hour earlier. If Clodomiro had failedit might be a serious matter, and Kit Rhodes had some anxious momentsfor the stolen woman while dusk descended on the caņon. He listened for the beat of horse hoofs, but what he heard first was ashot, and a woman's scream, and then the walls of the caņon echoed thetumult of horses racing towards him in flight. He recognized Clodomiro by the bare head and banda, and a woman bentlow beside him, her _manta_ flapping like the wings of a great bird asher horse leaped forward beside the Indian boy. Back of them galloped a man who slowed up and shot backward at theforemost of a pursuing band. He missed, and the fire was returned, evidently with some effect, forthe first marksman grunted and cursed, and Kit heard the clatter ofhis gun as it fell from his hand. He leaned forward and spurred hishorse to outrun the pursuers. He was evidently Marto. Kit had a mental vision of fighting Marto alone for the woman at MesaBlanca, or fighting with the entire band and decided to halt theleader of the pursuers and gain that much time at least for the womanand Clodomiro. He had mounted at the first sound of the runaways, and crouching lowin the saddle, hid back of the thick green of a dwarfed mesquite, andas the leader came into range against the white rock well he aimed lowand touched the trigger. The horse leaped up and the rider slid off as the animal sunk to theground. Kit guided his mount carefully along shadowed places into theroad expecting each instant a shot from the man on the ground. But it did not come, and he gained the trail before the other pursuersrounded the bend of the caņon. The sound of their hoofs would deafenthem to his, and once on the trail he gave the sorrel the rein, andthe wild thing went down the gully like an arrow from a bow. He was more than a little puzzled at the silence back of him. Thegoing down of the one man and horse had evidently checked allpursuit. Relieved though he was at the fact, he realized it was not anatural condition of affairs, and called for explanation. The other three riders were a half mile ahead and he had no idea ofjoining them on the trail. It occurred to him there was a possiblechance of taking a short cut over the point of the mesa and beatingthem to the home ranch. There was an even chance that the roughertrail would offer difficulties in the dark, but that was up to thesorrel and was worth the trial. The bronco took the mesa walls like a cat, climbed and staggered up, slid and tumbled down and crossed the level intervening space to thecorral as the first sound of the others came beating across thesands. A dark little figure arose by the corral bars and reached for thehorse as he slipped from the saddle. "Quickly, Tulita!" he said, stripping saddle and bridle from its back, "one instant only to make ourselves as still as shadows under thewalls of the house. " Fast as he ran, she kept pace with him to the corridor where Isidrowaited. "All is well, " he said briefly to the old man. "Clodomiro comes safewith the seņora, and the man who would steal her was shot and lost hisgun. All has gone very well. " "Thanks to God!" said the old Indian. "The stealing of women has everbeen a danger near, but luck comes well to you, seņor, and it is goodto be under the protection of you. " "Open the door and show a light of welcome, " said Kit. "Call your wifeand let all be as planned by us. I will be in the shadows, and a goodgun for safety of the woman if needed, but all will work well, as youwill see. " The three riders came up to the portal before dismounting, andValencia went forward, while Isidro held high a blazing torch, andClodomiro dismounted quickly, and offered help to the woman. "My grandmother has all for your comfort, seņora, " he said, "will itplease you to descend?" The man swung from the saddle, awkwardly nursing his right arm. "Yes this is a safe place, Doņa Jocasta, " he declared. "It is all wellarranged. With your permission I may assist you. " He offered his left hand, but she looked from him to Valencia, andthen to Clodomiro. "You are young to be a stealer of women;--the saints send you a whiterroad!" she said. "And you may help me, for my shoulder has a hurt fromthat first shot of the comrade of this man. " "No, seņora, " stated her captor, "the evil shot came from no comradeof mine. They did not follow us, those bandits--accursed be theirnames! They were hid in the caņoncita and jumped our trail. But haveno fear, Doņa Jocasta, they are left behind, and it will be mypleasure to nurse the wounds they have made. " "Be occupied with your own, " she suggested pointing to his hand fromwhich blood still dripped, "and you, mother, can show me the newprison. It can be no worse than the others. " "Better, much better, little dove, " said Marto, who followed afterthe two women, and glanced over their shoulders into the guest chamberof the iron bars, "it is a bird cage of the finest, and a nest forharmonies. " Then to Valencia he turned with authority, "When you have made theseņorita comfortable, bring the key of the door to me. " "_Si_, seņor, " said Valencia bending low, and even as the prisonerentered the room, she changed the key to the outside of the door. Marto nodded his approval and turned away. "Now this shirt off, and a basin of water and a bandage, " he orderedIsidro. "It is not much, and it still bleeds. " "True, it does, seņor, and the room ordered for you has already thewater and a clean shirt on the pillow. Clodomiro, go you for abandage, and fetch wine to take dust out of the throat! This way, seņor, --and may you be at home in your own house!" Unsuspecting, the amorous Marto followed the old man into the roomprepared. He grunted contemptuous satisfaction at evidences of comfortextending to lace curtains hanging white and full over the onewindow. "It is the time for a shirt of such cleanness, " he observed, with agrin. "_Jesusita!_ but the sleeve sticks to me! Cut it off, and bequick to make me over into a bridegroom. " The old man did as he was bidden, and when Clodomiro brought in awoven tray covered with a napkin from which a bottle of wine wasdiscernible, Marto grinned at him. "It is a soft nest you found for me, boy, " he said appreciatively, "and when I am capitan I will make you lieutenant. " "Thanks to you, seņor, and hasten the day!" Clodomiro assisted his grandfather, and stood aside at the doorrespectfully as the old man passed out with his primitive supply ofsalves and antiseptics, and only when all need of caution was endedthe boy smiled at the would-be Lothario, and the smile held a subtlemockery as he murmured, "The saints send you a good night's sleep, seņor, and a waking to health--and clearer sight!" "Hell and its blazes to you! why do you grin?" demanded the othersetting down the bottle from which he had taken a long and gratefuldrink, but quick as a cat the boy pulled the door shut, and slippedthe bolt on the outside, and laughed aloud. "Not this night will you be bridegroom for another man's wife, seņor!"he called. "Also it is better that you put curb on your curses, --forthe lady has a mind for a quiet night of sleep. " Marto rushed to the curtained window only to find iron bars and theglint of a gun barrel. Isidro held the gun, and admonished thestorming captive with the gentle fatalism of the Indian. "It is done under orders of the major-domo, seņor. There is no otherway. If your words are hard or rough to the ears of the lady, there isa bullet for you, and a hidden place for your grave. This is the onlyword to you, seņor. It is given me to say. " "But--Gods, saints, and devils--hearken you to me!" stormed the man. "This is a fool's joke! It can't go on! I must be back at sunrise--_Imust!_" "You will see many suns rise through these bars if the padrone sopleases, " murmured Isidro gently. "That is not for us to decide. " "To hottest hell with your padrone and you! Bring him here to listento me. This is no affair of a man and a woman, --curse her witch eyesand their green fires! There is work afoot, --big work, and I must getback to Soledad. You know what goes over the trail to Soledad, --everyIndian knows! It is the cache of ammunition with which to save thepeon and Indian slave, --you know that! You know the revolutionistsmust get it to win in Sonora. A trap is set for tomorrow, a big trap!I must be there to help spring it. To you there will be riches andsafety all your life for my freedom--on the cross I will swear that. I----" "Seņor, nothing is in my power, and of your traps I know nothing. I amtold you set a trap for a lady who is in grief and your own feet werecaught in it. That is all I know of traps, " said Isidro. Kit patted the old man on the shoulder for cleverness, even while hewondered at the ravings of the would-be abductor. Then he crept nearerthe window where he could see the face of the prisoner clearly, andwithout the overshadowing hat he had worn on entrance. The face gavehim something to think about, for it was that of one of the men whohad ridden up to the Yaqui spring the day he had found Tula and Miguelin the desert. How should this rebel who rode on secret trails withRamon Rotil be head man at Soledad for Rotil's enemy? And what was thetrap? "Look well at that man, Isidro, " he whispered, "and tell me if such aman rode here to Mesa Blanca with General Rotil. " "No such man was here, seņor, but this man was foreman at Soledadbefore the Deliverer came over the eastern range to Mesa Blanca. Alsothe general and Don José Perez are known as enemies;--the friend ofone cannot be the friend of another. " "True enough, Isidro, but that does not help me to understand the trapset. Call your wife and learn if I can see the Doņa Jocasta. " Tula had crept up beside them, and touched him on the arm. "She asks for you, and sadness is with her very much. She watches usin fear, and cannot believe that the door is open for her. " "If that is her only trouble we can clear it away for her, _pronto_, "he stated, and they entered the patio. "It is not her only trouble, but of the other she does not speak. Valencia weeps to look at her. " "Heavens! Is she as bad looking as that?" "No, it is another reason, " stated the girl stolidly. "She is a cagedhumming bird, and her wings have broken. " Kit Rhodes never forgot that first picture of their kidnaped guest, for he agreed with Clodomiro who saw in her the living representationof old biblical saints. The likeness was strengthened by the half Moorish drapery over herhead, a black mantilla which, at sound of a man's step, she hurriedlydrew across the lower part of her face. Her left arm and shoulder wasbare, and Valencia bent over her with a strip of old linen forbandage, but the eyes of Doņa Jocasta were turned half shrinking, halfappraising to the strange Americano. It was plain to her thatconquering men were merely the owners of women. "It is good you come, seņor, " said Valencia. "Here is a wound and thebullet under the skin. I have waited for Isidro to help but he is slowon the way. " "He is busy otherwise, but I will call him unless my own help willserve here. That is for the seņora to say. " The eyes of the girl, --she was not more, --never left his face, andabove the lace scarf she peered at him as through a mask. "It is you who sent messenger to save an unhappy one you did not know?You are the Americano of the letter?" "At your service, seņora. May that service begin now?" "It began when that letter was written, and this room made ready, " shesaid. "And if you can find the bullet it will end the unhappiness ofthis good woman. She weeps for the little bit of lead. It should havestruck a heart instead of a shoulder. " "Ah, seņora!" lamented Valencia, "weep like a woman over sorrows. Itis a better way than to mock. " "God knows it is not for me to mock!" breathed the soft voicebitterly. "And if the seņor will lend you his aid, I will again be inhis debt. " Without further words Kit approached, and Valencia drew the cover fromthe shoulder and indicated where the ball could be felt. "I cannot hold the shoulder and press the flesh there without makingmuch pain, too much, " stated Valencia, "but it must come out, or therewill be trouble. " "Sure there will, " asserted Kit, "and if you or Tula will hold thearm, and Doņa Jocasta will pardon me----" He took the white shoulder in his two hands and gently traced thedirection of the bullet. It had struck in the back and slanted alongthe shoulder blade. It was evidently fired from a distance and littleforce left. Marto had been much nearer the pursuer, and his was aclean cut wound through the upper arm. The girl turned chalky white as he began slowly to press the bulletbackward along its trail, but she uttered no sound, only a deep intakeof breath that was half a sob, and the cold moisture of sickening painstood in beads on her face. All of the little barriers with a stranger were forgotten, and theshielding scarf fell away from her face and bosom, and even with theshadowed emerald eyes closed, Kit Rhodes thought her the most perfectthing in beauty he had ever seen. He hated himself for the pain he was forcing on her as he steadilyfollowed the bullet upward and upward until it lay in his hand. She did not faint, as he feared she might, but fell back in the chair, while Valencia busied herself with the ointment and bandage, and Tula, at a word from Kit, poured her a cup of wine. "Drink, " he said, "if only a little, seņora. Your strength has servedyou well, but it needs help now. " She swallowed a little of the wine, and drew the scarf about her, andafter a little opened her eyes and looked at him. He smiled at herapprovingly, and offered her the bullet. "It may be you will want it to go on some shrine to a patron saint, seņora, " he suggested, but she did not take it, only looked at himsteadily with those wonderful eyes, green with black lashes, shiningout of her marble Madonna-like face. "My patron saint traveled the trail with you, Seņor Americano, and thebullet is witness. Let me see it. " He gave it into her open hand where she balanced it thoughtfully. "So near the mark, yet went aside, " she murmured. "Could that meanthere is yet any use left in the world for me?" "Beauty has its own use in the world, seņora; that is why rose gardensare planted. " "True, seņor, though I belong no more to the gardens;--no, not togardens, but to the desert. Neither have I place nor power today, andI may never have, but I give back to you this witness of your greatfavor. If a day comes when I, Jocasta, can give favor in return, bringor send this witness of the ride tonight. I will redeem it. " "The favor is to me, and calls for no redemption, " said Kit awkward atthe regal poise of her, and enchanted by the languorous glance andmovement of her. Even the reaching out of her hand made him think ofTula's words, 'a humming bird, ' if one could imagine such ajewel-winged thing weighted down with black folds of mourning. "A caged humming bird with broken wings!" and that memory broughtanother thought, and he fumbled the bullet, and gave the first steadylook into those emerald, side-glancing eyes. "But--there is a compact I should appreciate if Doņa Jocasta will dome the favor, --and it is that she sets value on the life that is nowher very own, and, that she forgets not to cherish it. " "Ah-h!" She looked up at him piteously a moment, and then the longlashes hid her eyes, and her head was bent low. "Sinful and withoutshame have I been! and they have told you of the knife I tried touse--here!" She touched her breast with her slender ring-laden hand, and her voiceturned mocking. "But you see, Seņor Americano, even Death will not welcome me, andneither steel nor lead will serve me!" "Life will serve you better, seņora. " "Not yet has it done so, and I am a woman--old--old! I am twenty, seņor, and refused of Death! Jocasta Benicia they named me. JocastaPerdida it should have been to fit the soul of me, so why should Ipromise a man whom I do not know that I will cherish my life when Iwould not promise a padre? Answer me that, seņor whose name has notbeen told me!" "But you will promise, seņora, " insisted Kit, smiling a little, thoughthrilled by the sadness of life's end at twenty, "and as for names, ifyou are Doņa Perdida I may surely name myself Don Esperenzo, for Ihave not only hope, but conviction, that life is worth living!" "To a man, yes, and Mexico is a man's land. " "Ay, it must be yours as well, --beautiful that thou art!" murmuredValencia adoringly. "You should not give yourself a name of sadness, for this is our Seņor El Pajarito, who is both gay and of honesty. He, --with God, --is your protection, and harm shall not be yours. " Doņa Jocasta reached out and touched kindly the bent head of theIndian woman. "As you will, mother. With hope and a singer for a shield, even aprison would not be so bad, El Pajarito, eh? Do you make songs--orsing them, seņor?" "Neither, --I am only a lucky bluff. My old partner and I used to singfool things to the mules, and as we could out-bray the burros my Indiofriends are kind and call it a singing;--as easy as that is it to getcredit for talent in this beneficent land of yours! But--the compact, seņora?" Her brows lifted wearily, yet the hint of a smile was in her eyes. "Yes, since you ask so small a thing, it is yours. Jocasta makescompact with you; give me a wish that the life is worth it. " "Sure I will, " said Kit holding out his hand, but she shrunkperceptibly, and her hand crept out of sight in the black draperies. "You have not, perhaps, ever sent a soul to God without absolution?"she asked in a breathless hushed sort of voice. "No seņor, the look ofyou tells me you have not been so unpardonable. Is it not so?" "Why, yes, " returned Kit, "it hasn't been a habit with me to startanyone on the angels' flight without giving him time to bless himself, but even at that----" "No, no!" as he took a step nearer. "The compact is ours withouthandclasp. The hand of Jocasta is the hand of the black glove, seņor. " He looked from her to the two Indians, the old woman kneeling besideJocasta and crossing herself, and Tula, erect and slender against theadobe wall, watching him stolidly. There was no light on the subjectfrom either of them. "Pardon, I'm but a clumsy Americano, not wise to your meanings, " heventured, "and beautiful hands look better without gloves of anycolor. " "It may be so, yet I have heard that no matter how handsome a headsmanmay be, he wears a black mask, and hands are not stretched out totouch his. " "Seņora!" "Seņor, we arrive at nothing when making speech of me, " she said witha little sigh. "Our ride was hard, and rest is best for all of us. Ourfriend here tells me there is supper, and if you will eat with me, wewill know more of how all this has come about. It is strange that you, a lone Americano in this land, should plan this adventure like abandit, and steal not only the major-domo of Soledad, but the woman hewould steal!" "It was so simple that the matter is not worth words except asconcerns Clodomiro, who was the only one in danger. " "Ah! if ever they had suspected him! You have not seen that band ofmen, they are terrible! Of all the men of José Perez they are theblackest hearts, and if it had not been for the poor padre----" "Tell me of him, " said Kit who perceived she was willing enough tospeak plainly of all things except herself. "He is a good man?" "A blessing to me, seņor!" she asserted earnestly as they were seatedat the table so carefully prepared by Valencia. "Look you! I brokeaway from those animals and in a little mountain village, --such a oneas I was born in, seņor!--I ran to the altar of the little chapel, andthat priest was a shield for me. Against all the men he spoke cursesif they touched me. Well, after that there was only one task to do, and that was to carry him along. I think they wanted to kill him, andhad not the courage. And after all that I came away from Soledadwithout saving him;--that was bad of me, very bad! I--I think I wentwild in the head when I saw the men play games of cards, and I to goto the winner! Not even a knife for food would they give me, for theyknew----" She shuddered, and laid down quickly the knife she had lifted frombeside her plate, and glanced away when she found him regarding her. "It has been long weeks since I was trusted as you are trusting mehere, " she continued quietly. "See! On my wrists were chains atfirst. " "And this Marto Cavayso did that?" demanded Kit as she showed herscarred slender wrist over which Valencia had wept. "No, it was before Cavayso--he is a new man--so I think this was whenConrad was first helping to plan me as an insane woman and have me putsecretly to prison, but some fear struck José Perez, and that planwould not serve. In the dark of night I was half smothered in wrapsand put in an ox-cart of a countryman and hauled north out of thecity. Two men rode as guard. They chained me in the day and slept, traveling only in the night until they met Cavayso and his men. Afterthat I remember little, I was so weary of life! One alcalde askedabout me and Cavayso said I was his wife who had run away with a gypsyfiddler, and he was taking me home to my children. Of what use tospeak? A dozen men would have added their testimony to his, and hadsport in making other romance against me. They were sullen becausethey thought I had jewels hid under my clothes, and Cavayso would notlet them search me. It has been hell in these hills of Sonora, SeņorPajarito. " "That is easy to understand, " agreed Kit wondering at her endurance, and wondering at the poise and beauty of her after such experience. There was no trace of nervousness, or of tears, or self-pity. It wasas if all this of which she told had been a minor affair, dwarfed bysome tragic thing to which he had no key. "So, Conrad was in this plot against you?" he asked, and knew thatTula, standing back of his chair had missed no word. "You mean theGerman Conrad who is manager of Granados ranches across the border?" "Seņor, I mean the beast whose trail is red with the blood ofinnocence, and whose poison is sinking into the veins of Mexico like aserpent, striking secretly, now here, now there, until the blood ofthe land is black with that venom. Ay! I know, seņor;--the earth isacrawl with the German lizards creeping into the shining sun ofMexico! This so excellent Don Adolf Conrad is only one, and José Perezis his target--I am the one to know that! A year ago, and Don José wasa man, with faults perhaps; but who is perfect on this earth? Thencame Don Adolf riding south and is very great gentleman and makesfriends. His home in Hermosillo becomes little by little the house ofPerez, and little by little Perez goes on crooked paths. That is true!First it was to buy a ship for coast trade, then selling rifles insecret where they should not be sold, then--shame it is to tell--menand women were sold and carried on that ship like cattle! Not rebels, seņor, not prisoners of battle, --but herdsmen and ranch people, poorIndian farmers whom only devils would harm! Thus it was, seņor, untillittle by little Don Adolf knew so much that José Perez awoke to findhe had a master, and a strong one! It was not one man alone who caughthim in the net; it was the German comrades of Don Adolf who neverforgot their task, even when he was north in the States. They needed aman of name in Hermosillo, and José Perez is now that man. When thewhip of the German cracks, he must jump to serve their will. " "But José Perez is a strong man. Before this day he has wiped many aman from his trail if the man made him trouble, " ventured Kit. "You have right in that, seņor, but I am telling you it is a wide netthey spread and in that net he is snared. Also his household is nolonger his own. The Indian house servants are gone, and outlawJapanese are there instead. That is true and their dress is the dressof Indians. They are Japanese men of crimes, and German men gave aidthat they escape from justice in Japan. It is because they need suchmen for German work in Mexico, men who have been taught German anddare not turn rebel. Not an hour of the life of José Perez is freefrom the eyes of a spy who is a man of crimes. And there are othersnares. They tell him that he is to be a governor by theirhelp;--that is a rich bait to float before the eyes of a man! His feetare set on a trail made by Adolph Conrad, --He is trapped, and there isno going back. Poison and shame and slavery and death have come uponthat trail like black mushrooms grown in a night, and what the end ofthe trail will be is hid in the heart of God. " "But your sympathy is with those women in slavery there in the south, and not with the evil friend of José Perez?" asked Kit. "Can you doubt, seņor? Am I not as truly a victim as they? I have notworked under a whip, but there are other punishments--for a woman!" Her voice dropped almost to a whisper, and she rested her chin on herhand, staring out into the shadows of the patio, oblivious of themall. Tula gazed at her as if fascinated, and there was a difference inher regard. That she was linked in hate against Conrad gave the Indiangirl common cause with the jewel-eyed woman whose beauty had been theboast of a province. Kit noticed it and was vastly comforted. Theabsolute stolidity of Tula had left him in doubt as to the outcome ifhis little partner had disapproved of his fascinating protégée. Heknew the thing she wanted to know, and asked it. "Seņora, the last band of Indian slaves from Sonora were driven fromthe little pueblo of Palomitas at the edge of this ranch. And thereare sisters and mothers here with sick hearts over that raid. Can youtell me where those women were sent?" "Which raid was that, and when?" asked Jocasta arousing herself fromsome memory in which she had been submerged. "Pardon, seņor, I am buta doleful guest at supper, thinking too deeply of that which sent mehere. Your question?" He repeated it, and she strove to remember. "There were many, and no one was told whence they came. It wassupposed they were war prisoners who had to be fed, and were beingsent to grow their own maize. If it were the last band then it wouldbe the time Conrad had the wound in the face, here, like a knifethrust, and that----" "That was the time, " interrupted Kit eagerly. "If you can tell uswhere those people were sent you will prove the best of blessings toMesa Blanca this night. " She smiled sadly at that and looked from him to Tula, whom sheevidently noted for the first time. "It is long since the word of blessing has been given to Jocasta, " shesaid wistfully. "It would be a comfort to earn it in this house. Butthat band was not sent away, --not far. Something went wrong with theboat down the coast, I forgot what it was, but there was much trouble, and the Indians were sent to a plantation of the General Terain untilthe boat was ready. I do not know what plantation, except that Conradraged about it. He and Don José had a quarrel, very terrible! Thatwound given to him by a woman made him very difficult; then thequarrel ended by them drinking together too much. And after that manythings happened very fast, and--I was brought north. " "And the Indians?" "Seņor, I do not think anyone thought again of those Indians. Theyare planting maize or cane somewhere along the Rio Sonora. " Tula sank down weeping against the wall, while Valencia stroked herhair and patted her. Doņa Jocasta regarded her curiously. "To be young enough to weep like that over a sorrow!" she murmuredwistfully. "It is to envy her, and not mourn over her. " "But this weeping is of joy, " explained Valencia. "It is as the seņorsays, a blessing has come with you over the hard road. This child wasalso stolen, and was clever to escape. Her mother and her sister areyet there in that place where the maize is planted. If the boat hasnot taken them, then they also may get back. It is a hope!" "Poor little one! and now that I could make good use of power, it isno longer mine, " said Jocasta, looking at Kit regretfully. "A youngmaid with courage to escape has earned the right to be given help. " "She will be given it, " he answered quietly, "and since your patiencehas been great with my questions, I would ask more of this Cavayso wehave trapped tonight. He is raging of curious things there across thepatio. Isidro holds a gun on him that he subdue his shouts, and hisoffer is of rich bribes for quick freedom. He is as mad to get back toSoledad as he was to leave it, and he tells of a trap set there forsomeone. It concerns ammunition for the revolutionists. " "No, not for them, but for trade in the south, " said Jocasta promptly. "Yes, Soledad has long been the place for hiding of arms. It was thetask of Don Adolf to get them across the border, and then a man ofDon José finds a safe trail for them. Sometimes a German officer fromTucson is of much help there in the north. I have heard Don José andConrad laugh about the so easily deceived Americanos, --your pardon, seņor!" "Oh, we are used to that, " agreed Kit easily, "and it is quite true. We have a whole flock of peace doves up there helping the Hohenzollerngame. What was the officer's name?" "A name difficult and long, " she mused, striving to recall it. "Butthat name was a secret, and another was used. He was known only as asimple advocate--James, the name; I remember that for they told me itwas the English for Diego, which was amusing to me, --there is no soundalike in them!" "That's true, there isn't, " said Kit, who had no special interest inany advocate named James. "But to get back to the man in the cell overthere and the ammunition, may I ask if he confided to you anything ofthat place of storage? I mean Cavayso?" "No, seņor; and for a reason of the best. He knows nothing, and allhis days and nights were spent searching secretly for the entrance tothat dungeon, --if it is a dungeon! He thought I should know, and madethreats against me because I would not tell. Myself, I think JoséPerez tells no one that hiding place, not even Conrad, though Conradhas long wanted it! I told Don José that if he told that he was asgood as a dead man, and I believe it. But now, " and she shook her headfatefully, "now he is sure to get it!" "But he swears he must get back to Soledad by sunrise for a trap isset. A trap for whom?" persisted Kit. Doņa Jocasta shook her head uncomprehendingly. "God forbid he should get free to put those wolves on my track; thenindeed I would need a knife, seņor! He held them back from me on thetrail, but now he would not hold them back. " "But the trap, seņora?" repeated the puzzled Kit. "That man was inearnest, --dead in earnest! He did not know I was listening, his wordswere only for an Indian, --for Isidro. Who could he trap? Was heexpecting anyone at Soledad?" Doņa Jocasta looked up with a little gasp of remembrance. "It is true, a courier did come two days ago from the south, andCavayso told me he meant to take me to the desert and hide me beforeDon José arrived. Also more mules and wagons came in. And Elenascolded about men who came to eat but not to work. Yes, they smoked, and talked, and talked, and waited! I never thought of them except tohave a great fear. Yesterday after the lad brought me that letter Ihad not one thought, but to count the hours, and watch the sun. But itmay be Cavayso told the truth, and that Don José was indeed coming. Hetold me he had promised Perez to lose me in the Arroya Maldioso if inno other way, and he had to manage that I never be seen again. " "Arroya Maldioso?" repeated Kit, "I don't understand. " "It is the great quicksand of Soledad, green things grow and blossomthere but no living thing can cross over. It is beautiful--that littlearroya, and very bad. " "I had heard of it, but forgot, " acknowledged Kit, "but that is notthe trap of which he is raving now. It is some other thing. " Doņa Jocasta did not know. She confessed that her mind was dark andpast thinking. The ways of Don José and Conrad were not easy for othermen of different lives to understand;--there was a great net of warand scheming and barter, and Don José was snared in that net, and theend no man could see! "Have you ever heard that Marto Cavayso was once a lieutenant ofGeneral Rotil?" Kit asked. "The Deliverer!" she gasped, leaning forward and staring at him. Adeep flush went over her face and receded, leaving her as deathly paleas when the bullet had been forced from the white shoulder. Her regardwas curious, for her brows were contracted and there was dominationand command in her eyes. "Why do you say this to me, seņor? And why doyou think it?" Kit was astonished at the effect of his words, and quite as muchastonished to hear anyone of the Perez household refer to Rotil as"the Deliverer. " "Seņora, if you saw him ride side by side with Rotil, drinking fromthe same cup in the desert, would you not also think it?" Tula rose to her feet, and moved closer to Kit. "I too was seeing them together, seņora, " she said. "It was at theYaqui well; I drew the water, and they drank it. This man of the loudcurses is the man. " Doņa Jocasta covered her eyes with her hand, and she seemed shaken. Noone else spoke, and the silence was only broken by the muffled tonesof Marto in the cell, and the brief bark of Clodomiro's dog at thecorral. "God knows what may be moving forward, " she said at last, "but thereis some terrible thing afoot. Take me to this man. " "It may not be a pleasant thing to do, " advised Kit. "This is a man'sgame, seņora, and his words might offend, for his rage is very greatagainst you. " "Words!" she said with a note of disdain, and arose to her feet. Sheswayed slightly, and Valencia steadied her, and begged her to waituntil morning, for her strength was gone and the night was late. "Peace, woman! Who of us is sure of a morning? This minute is all thetime that is ours, and--I must know. " She leaned on Valencia as they crossed the patio, and Tula moved aseat outside the door of Marto's room. Kit fastened a torch in theholder of the brick pillar and opened the door without being seen, andstood watching the prisoner. Marto Cavayso, who had been pleading with Isidro, whirled only to findthe barrel of another gun thrust through the carved grill in the topof the door. "Isidro, " said Kit, "this man is to answer questions of the seņora. Ifhe is uncivil you can singe him with a bullet at your own will. " "Many thanks, seņor, " returned Isidro promptly. "That is a pleasantwork to think of, for the talk of this shameless gentleman is poisonto the air. " "You!" burst out Marto, pointing a hand at Jocasta in the corridor. "You put witchcraft of hell on me, and wall me in here with an oldlunatic for guard, and now----" Bing! A bullet from Isidro's rifle whistled past Marto's ear andburied itself in the adobe, scattering plaster and causing theprisoner to crouch back in the corner. Jocasta regarded him as if waiting further speech, but none came. "That is better, " she said. "No one wishes to do you harm, but youneed a lesson very badly. Now Marto Cavayso, --if that be yourname!--why did you carry me away? Was it your own doing, or were youunder orders of your General Rotil?" "I should have let the men have you, " he muttered. "I was a bewitchedman, or you never would have traveled alive to see Soledad. Rotil? Donot the handsome women everywhere offer him love and comradeship?Would he risk a good man to steal a woman of whom José Perez istired?" "You are not the one to give judgment, " said a strange voice outsidethe barred window. --"That I did not send you to steal women is verytrue, and the task I did send you for has been better done by othermen in your absence. " Cavayso swore, and sat on the bed, his head in his hands. Outside thewindow there were voices in friendly speech, that of Clodomiro veryclear as he told his grandfather the dogs did not bark but once, because some of the Mesa Blanca boys were with the general, who waswounded. Kit closed and bolted again the door of Cavayso, feeling that theguardianship of beauty in Sonora involved a man in many awkward andentangling situations. If it was indeed Rotil---- But a curious choking moan in the corridor caused him to turn quickly, but not quickly enough. Doņa Jocasta, who had been as a reed of steel against other dangers, had risen to her feet as if for flight at sound of the voice, and shecrumpled down on the floor and lay, white as a dead woman, in a faintso deep that even her heartbeat seemed stilled. Kit gathered her up, limp as a branch of willow, and preceded by Tulawith the torch, bore her back to the chamber prepared for her. Valencia swept back the covers of the bed, and with many mutterings offear and ejaculations to the saints, proceeded to the work ofresuscitation. "To think that she came over that black road and held fast to a heartof bravery, --and now at a word from the Deliverer, she falls dead infear! So it is with many who hear his name; yet he is not bad to hisfriends. Every Indian in Sonora is knowing that, " stated Valencia. CHAPTER XIV THE HAWK OF THE SIERRAS "That is what we get, Tula, by gathering beauty in distress into ouroutfit, " sighed Kit. "She seems good foundation for a civil war here. Helen of Troy, --a lady of an eastern clan!--started a war on less, andthe cards are stacked against us if they start scrapping. When Mexicangentry begin hostilities, the innocent bystander gets the worst ofit, --especially the Americano. So it is just as well the latestRichard in the field does not know whose bullet hit him in the leg, and brought his horse down. " Tula, who since their entrance to the civilized surroundings of MesaBlanca, had apparently dropped all initiative, and was simply a littleIndian girl under orders, listened impassively to this curiousmonologue. She evidently thought white people use many words for alittle meaning. "The Deliverer says will you graciously come?" she stated for thesecond time. "Neither graciously, gracefully or gratefully, but I'll arrive, " heconceded. "His politeness sounds ominous. It is puzzling why I, a meretrifle of an American ranch hand, should be given audience instead ofhis distinguished lieutenant. " "Isidro and Clodomiro are talking much with him, and the man Marto issilent, needing no guard, " said Tula. "Sure, --Rotil has the whole show buffaloed. Well, let's hope, child, that he is not a mind reader, for we have need of all the ore webrought out, and can't spare any for revolutionary subscriptions. " Kit followed Tula into the _sala_ where a rawhide cot had been placed, and stretched on it was the man of Yaqui Spring. One leg of his trousers was ripped up, and there was the odor of agreasewood unguent in the room. Isidro was beside him, winding abandage below the knee. A yellow silk banda around the head of Rotilwas stained with red. But he had evidently been made comfortable, for he was rolling acigarette and was calling Isidro "doctor. " Two former vaqueros of MesaBlanca were there, and they nodded recognition to Kit. Rotil regardedhim with a puzzled frown, and then remembered, and waved his hand insalute. "Good day, seņor, we meet again!" he said. "I am told that you are myhost and the friend of Seņor Whitely. What is it you do here? Is itnow a prison, or a hospital for unfortunates?" "Only a hospital for you, General, and I trust a serviceable one, " Kithastened to assure him. "More of comfort might have been yours had yousent a courier to permit of preparation. " "The service is of the best, " and Rotil pointed to Isidro. "I've amind to take him along, old as he is! The boys told me he was the bestmedico this side the range, and I believe it. As to courier, " and hegrinned, "I think you had one, if you had read the message right. " "The surprises of the night were confusing, and a simple man could notdare prophesy what might follow, " said Kit, who had drawn up a chairand easily fell into Rotil's manner of jest. "But I fancy if thatcourier had known who would follow after, he would have spent thenight by preference at Soledad. " "Sure he would, --hell's fire shrivel him! That shot of his scraped abone for me, and put my horse out of business. For that reason we cameon quietly, and these good fellows listened at the window of Martobefore they carried me in. It is a good joke on me. My men rounded upPerez and his German slaver at Soledad today--yesterday now!--and whenwe rode up the little caņon to be in at the finish what did we see butan escape with a woman? Some word had come my way of a Perez womanthere, and only one thought was with me, that the woman had helpedPerez out of the trap as quickly as he had ridden into it! After thatthere was nothing to do but catch them again. No thought came to methat Marto might be stealing a woman for himself, the fool! Perez madebetter time than we figured on, and is a day ahead. Marto meant tohide the woman and get back in time. It's a great joke that anAmericano took the woman from him. I hope she is worth the trouble, "and he smiled, lifting his brows questioningly. "So that was the 'trap' that Marto raved and stormed to get back to?"remarked Kit. "I am still in the dark, though there are some glimmersof light coming. If Marto knew of that trap it explains----" "There were three others of my men on the Soledad rancho, drawing payfrom Perez. It is the first time that fox came in when we could spreadthe net tight. To get him at another place would not serve so well, for if Soledad was the casket of our treasure, at Soledad we make athree strike, --the cattle, the ammunition, and Perez there to show thehiding place! It is the finish of four months' trailing, and is worththe time, and but for Marto running loco over a girl, there would havebeen a beautiful quiet finish at Soledad ranch house last night. " "But, if your men have Perez----" "Like that!" and Rotil stretched out his open hand, and closed itsignificantly, with a cruel smile in his black, swift-glancing eyes. "This time there is no mistake. For over a week men and stout muleshave been going in;--it is a _conducta_ and it is to take theammunition. Well, seņor, it is all well managed for me; also we havemuch need of that ammunition for our own lads. " "And it was done without a fight?" asked Kit. "I have heard that themen picked for Soledad were not the gentlest band Seņor Perez couldgather. " "We had their number, " said Rotil placidly. "Good men enough, but withtheir cartridges doctored what could they do? I sent in two machineguns, and they were not needed. A signal smoke went up to show me allwas well, and in another minute I heard the horses of Marto and hisgirl. He must have started an hour before Perez arrived. It is a trickof Don José's that no one can count on his engagements, but this timeevery hill had its sentinels for his trail, not anything was left tochance. " "And your accident?" asked Kit politely. "Oh, I was setting my own guards at every pass when the runaway womanand men caught my ear and we took a short cut down the little caņon tohead them off. I knew they would make for here, and that houses werenot plenty--" he smiled as if well satisfied with the knowledge. "So, as this was a friendly house it would be a safe bet to keep oncoming. " He blew rings of smoke from the cigarette, and chuckled. "The boys will think a quicksand has swallowed us, and no one will besleeping there at Soledad. " "Is there anything I can do to be of service, " asked Kit. "I have agood room and a bed----" But the chuckling of Rotil broke into a frank laugh. "No, seņor!" he said with humorous decision, watching Kit as he spoke, "already I have been told of your great kindness in the giving of bedsand rooms of comfort. Why, with a house big enough, you could jail allthe district of Altar! Not my head for a noose!" Kit laughed awkwardly at the jest which was based on fact, but he metthe keen eyes of Rotil very squarely. "The Indians no doubt told you the reason the jail was needed?" hesaid. "If a girl picks a man to take a trail with, that is her ownaffair and not mine, but if a girl with chains on her wrists has towatch men throwing dice for her, and is forced to go with thewinner--well--the man who would not help set her free needs a dose oflead. That is our American way, and no doubt is yours, seņor. " "Sure! Let a woman pick her own, if she can find him!" agreed Rotil, and then he grinned again as he looked at Kit. "And, seņor, it is asafe bet that this time she'll find him!--you are a good big mark, not easily hidden. " The other men smiled and nodded at the humor of their chief, andregarded Kit with appreciative sympathy. It was most natural of coursefor them to suppose that if he took a woman from Marto, he meant towin her for himself. Kit smiled back at them, and shook his head. "No such luck for a poor vaquero, " he confessed. "The lady is inmourning, and much grief. She is like some saint of sorrows in apriest's tale, and----" "The priests are liars, and invented hell, " stated Rotil. "That may be, but sometimes we see sad women of prayers who look likethe saints the priests tell about, --and to have such women sold by agambler is not good to hear of. " No one spoke for a little. The eyes of Rotil closed in a curious, contemptuous smile. "You are young, boy, " he said at last, "and even we who are not soyoung are often fooled by women. Trust any woman of the camp ratherthan the devout saints of the shrines. All are for market, --but youpay most for the saint, and sorrow longest for her. And you neverforget that the shrine is empty!" His tone was mocking and harsh, but Kit preferred to ignore the suddenchange of manner for which there seemed no cause. "Thanks for the warning, General, and no saints for me!" he said goodnaturedly. "Now, is there any practical thing I can do to add to yourcomfort here? Any plans for tomorrow?" "A man of mine is already on the way to Soledad, and we will sleepbefore other plans are made. Not even Marto will I see tonight, knowing well that you have seen to his comfort!" and he chuckled againat the thought of Marto in his luxurious trap. "My lads will do guardduty in turn, and we sleep as we are. " "Then, if I can be of no service----" "Tomorrow perhaps, not tonight, seņor. Some sleep will do us noharm. " "Then good night, and good rest to you, General. " "Many thanks, and good night, Don Pajarito. " Kit laughed at that sally, and took himself out of the presence. Itwas plain that the Deliverer had obtained only the most favorableaccount of Kit as the friend of Whitely. And as an American lad whosang songs, and protected even women he did not know, he could notappear formidable to Rotil's band, and certainly not in need ofwatching. He looked back at them as the general turned on his side to sleep, andone of his men blew out the two candles, and stationed themselvesoutside the door. As he noted the care they took in guarding him, andglanced at the heavy doors and barred windows, he had an uncomfortablethrill at the conviction that it would serve as a very efficientprison for himself if his new friends, the revolutionists, eversuspected he held the secret of the red gold of El Alisal. It was abit curious that the famous lost mine of the old mission had neverreally been "lost" at all! Isidro, looking very tired, had preceded him from the _sala_, as Kitsupposed to go to bed. The day and night had been trying to the oldman, and already it was the small hours of a new day. There was a dim light in the room of Doņa Jocasta, but no sound. Tulawas curled up on a blanket outside her door like a young puppy onguard. He stooped and touched her shoulder. "The seņora?" he whispered. "Asleep, after tears, and a sad heart!" she replied. "Valencia thanksthe saints that at last she weeps, --the beautiful sad one!" "That is well; go you also to sleep. Your friends keep guardtonight. " She made no reply, and he passed on along the corridor to his ownrooms. The door was open, and he was about to strike a light when ahand touched his arm. He drew back, reaching for his gun. "What the devil----" "Seņor, " whispered Isidro, "make no light, and make your words inwhispers. " "All right. What's on your mind?" "The seņora and the Deliverer. Know you not, seņor, that she is sickwith shame? It is so. No man has told him who the woman is he callsyours. All are afraid, seņor. It is said that once Ramon Rotil wascontent to be a simple man with a wife of his own choosing, but luckwas not his. It was the daughter of a priest in the hills, and JoséPerez took her!" "Ah-h!" breathed Kit. "If it should be this one----" "It is so, --she went like a dead woman at his voice, but he does notknow. How should he, when Don José has women beyond count? Seņor, myValencia promised Doņa Jocasta you would save her from meeting thegeneral. That promise was better than a sleeping drink of herbs toher. Now that the promise is made, how will you make it good?" "Holy smoke--also incense--also the pipe!" muttered Kit in the dark. "If I live to get out of this muddle I'll swear off all entanglingalliances forevermore! Come into the kitchen where we can have afire's light. I can't think in this blackness. " They made their way to the kitchen, and started a blaze with mesquitebark. The old Indian cut off some strips of burro _jerke_ and threwthem on the coals. "That is better, it's an occupation anyway, " conceded Kit chewing withmuch relish. "Now, Isidro, man, you must go on. You know the landbest. How is one to hide a woman of beauty from desert men?" "She may have a plan, " suggested Isidro. "Where is Clodomiro?" asked Kit, suddenly recalling that the boy haddisappeared. The old man did not answer; he was very busy with thefire, and when the question was repeated he shook his head. "I do not know who went. If Tula did not go, then Clodomiro was theone. They were talking about it. " "Talking, --about what?" "About the German. He is caught at Soledad, and must not be let go, orlet die. All the Indians of Palomitas will be asking the Deliverer forthat man. " "Isidro, what is it they want to do with him?" asked Kit, and the oldIndian ceased fussing around with a stick in the ashes, and looked up, sinister and reproving. "That, seņor, is a question a man does not ask. If my woman tells methe women want a man for Judas, I--get that man! I ask nothing. " "Good God! And that child, Tula--" began Kit in consternation, and oldIsidro nodded his head. "It is Tula who asked. She is proving she is a woman; Clodomiro goesfor her because that is his work. Your white way would be a differentway, --of an alcalde and the word of many witness. Our women have theirown way, and no mistake is made. " "But Rotil, the general, --he will not permit----" "Seņor, for either mother or grandmother the general had an Indianwoman. He has the knowing of these things. I think Tula gets the manthey ask for. She is wise, that child! A good woman will be chosen tohave speech with the Deliverer--when they come. " "There is a thought in that, " mused Kit, glancing sharply at the oldman. "Do they make choice of some wise woman, to be speaker for theothers? And they come here?" "That is how it is, seņor. " "Then, what better way to hide Doņa Jocasta than to place her amongIndian women who come in a band for that task? Many women veil andshroud their heads in black as she does. The music of her voice wasdulled when she spoke to Marto, and General Rotil had no memory ofhaving ever heard it. Think, --is there to be found an old dress ofyour wife? Can it be done and trust no one? Doņa Jocasta is cleverwhen her fear is gone. With Tula away from that door the rest is easy. The dawn is not so far off. " "Dawn is the time the women of Palomitas will take the road, " decidedIsidro, "for by the rising time of the sun the Deliverer has said thathis rest here is ended, and he goes on to Soledad where José Perezwill have a trembling heart of waiting. " "Will they tell him whose trap he is caught in?" "Who knows? The Deliverer has plans of his own making. It was not foridleness he was out of sight when the trap was sprung. He sleepslittle, does Ramon Rotil!" In a mesquite tree by the cook house chickens began to crow adesultory warning. And Isidro proceeded to subtract stealthily a skirtand shawl from wooden pegs set in the adobe wall where Valencia slept. She startled him by stirring, and making weary inquiry as to whetherit was the time. "Not yet, my treasure, that fighting cock of Clodomiro crows onlybecause of a temper, and not for day. It is I will make the fire andset Maria to the grinding. Go you to your sleep. " Which Valencia was glad to do, while her holiday wardrobe, a purpleskirt bordered with green, and a deeply fringed black shawl, wasconfiscated for the stranger within their gates. Thrusting the bundle back of an olla in the corridor he touched Tulaon the shoulder. "The seņor waits you in the kitchen, " he muttered in the Indiantongue, and she arose without a word, and went silent as a snake alongthe shadowy way. It took courage for Isidro to enter alone the room of Doņa Jocasta, asthat was the business of a woman. But Kit had planned that, ifdiscovered, the girl should apparently have no accomplices. Thiswould protect Tula and Valencia should Rotil suspect treachery if anoccupant of the house should disappear. It would seem most naturalthat a stolen woman would seek to escape homeward when not guarded, and that was to serve as a reasonable theory. She slept with occasional shuddering sighs, as a child after sobbingitself to sleep. That sad little sound gave the old Indian confidencein his errand. It might mean trouble, but she had dared trouble erenow. And there could not be continual sorrow for one so beautiful, andthis might be the way out! She woke with a startled cry as he shook her bed, but it was quicklysmothered as he whispered her name. "It is best you go to pray in the chapel room, and meet there thewomen of Palomitas. Others will go to pray for a Judas; among many youmay be hidden. " She patted his arm, and arose in the dark, slipping on her clothes. Hegave her the skirt and she donned that over her own dress. Her teethwere chattering with nervous excitement, and when she had coveredherself with the great shawl, her hand went out gropingly to him tolead her. As they did not pass the door of the _sala_, no notice was given themby Rotil's guard. Mexican women were ever at early prayers, or at the_metate_ grinding meal for breakfast, and that last possibility wasever welcome to men on a trail. In the kitchen Kit Rhodes was seeking information concerning Clodomirofrom Tula, asking if it was true he would fetch the women of Palomitasto petition Rotil. "Maybe so, " she conceded, "but that work is not for a mind of a whiteman. Thus I am not telling you Clodomiro is the one to go; his fatherwas what you call a priest, --but not of the church, " she said hastily, "no, of other things. " Looking at her elfin young face in the flickering light of the hearthfire, he had a realization of vast vistas of "other things" leadingbackward in her inherited tendencies, the things known by his youngcomrade but not for the mind of a white man, --not even for the manwhom Miguel had trusted with the secret of El Alisal. Gold mightoccasionally belong to a very sacred shrine, but even sacred gold wasnot held so close in sanctuary as certain ceremonies dear to theIndian thought. Without further words Kit Rhodes knew that there werelocked chambers in the brain of his young partner, and to no white manwould be granted the key. "Well, since he has gone for them, there is nothing to say, though thegeneral may be ill pleased at visitors, " hazarded Kit. "Also you and Iknow why we should keep all the good will coming our way, and risknone of it on experiments. Go you back to your rest since there is notanything to be done. Clodomiro is at Palomitas by now, and you may aswell sleep while the dawn is coming. " She took the strip of roasted meat he offered her, and went back toher blanket on the tiles at the door of the now empty room. CHAPTER XV THE "JUDAS" PRAYER AT MESA BLANCA Isidro was right when he said Ramon Rotil slept but little, for thevery edge of the dawn was scarce showing in the east when he openedhis eyes, moved his wounded leg stiffly, and then lay there peeringbetween half-shut eyelids at the first tint of yellow in the sky. "Chappo, " he said curtly, "look beyond through that window. Is it aband of horses coming down the mesa trail, or is it men?" "Neither, my General, it is the women who are left of the rancheriasof Palomitas. They come to do a prayer service at an old altar here. Once Mesa Blanca was a great hacienda with a chapel for the peons, andthey like to come. It is a custom. " "What saint's day is this?" "I am not wise enough, General, to remember all;--our women tell us. " "Um!--saint's day unknown, and all a pueblo on a trail to honor it!Call Fidelio. " There was a whistle, a quick tread, and one of the men of Palomitasstood in the door. "Take two men and search every woman coming for prayers--guns havebeen carried under _serapes_. " "But, General----" "Search every woman, --even though your own mother be of them!" "General, my own mother is already here, and on her knees beyond therein the altar room. They pray for heart to ask of you their rights inSoledad. " "That is some joke, and it is too early in the morning for jokes withme. I'm too empty. What have Palomitas women to do with rights inSoledad?" "I have not been told, " said Fidelio evasively. "It is a woman matter. But as to breakfast, it is making, and the _tortillas_ already bakingfor you. " "Order all ready, and a long stirrup for that leg, " said the general, moving it about experimentally. "It is not so bad, but Marto can ridefasting to Soledad for giving it to me. " "But, my General, he asks----" "Who is he to ask? After yesterday, silence is best for him. Take him along. I will decide later if he is of further use--Imay--need--a--man!" There was something deliberately threatening in his slow speech, andthe guards exchanged glances. Without doubt there would be executionsat Soledad! Rotil got off the cot awkwardly, but disdaining help from the guardshopped to a chair against the wall between the two windows. Isidro came in with a bowl of water, and a much embroidered towel forthe use of the distinguished guest, followed by a vaquero with smoking_tortillas_, and Tula with coffee. The general eyed the ornate drawnwork of the linen with its cobwebfingers, and grinned. "I am not a bridegroom this morning, _muchachita_, and need no necktieof such fineness for my beauty. Bring a plainer thing, or none. " Tula's eyes lit up with her brief smile of approval. "I am telling them you are a man and want no child things, myGeneral, " she stated firmly, "and now it proves itself! On the instantthe right thing comes. " She darted out the door, bumping into Rhodes, and without even thecustomary "with your permission" ran past him along the corridor, and, suddenly cautious, yet bold, she lifted the latch of the guest roomwhere she had seen what looked to her like wealth of towels, --and feltsure Doņa Jocasta would not miss one of the plainest. Stealthy as a cat she circled the bed, scarce daring to glance at itlest the lady wake and look reproach on her. But she stepped on some hard substance on the rug by the wooden benchwhere the towels hung, and stooping, she picked it up, a little woodencrucifix, once broken, and then banded with silver to hold it solid. The silver was beautifully wrought and very delicate, surely thepossession of a lady, and not a thing let fall by chance from thepocket of Valencia. Tula turned to lay it carefully on the pillow beside the seņora, andthen stared at the vacant bed. Only an instant she halted and thrust her hand under the cover. "Cold, --long time cold!" she muttered, and with towel and crucifix shesped back to the _sala_ where Rotil was joking concerning thecompliment she paid him. "Don't make dandies of yourselves if you would make good with awoman, " he said. "Even that little crane of a _muchacha_ hasbrain, --and maybe heart for a man! She has boy sense. " Kit, seeing her dart into the guest room, stood in his tracks watchingfor her to emerge. She gave him one searching curious look as she spedpast, and he realized in a flash that his glance should have beenelsewhere, or at least more casual. She delivered the towel and retired, abashed and silent at the jestsof the man she regarded with awe as the god-sent deliverer of herpeople. Once in the corridor she looked into Valencia's room, then inthe kitchen where Valencia and Maria and other women were hasteningbreakfast, and last she sought Clodomiro at the corral. "Where did you take her, and how?" she demanded, and the youth, tiredwith the endless rides and tasks of two days and nights, was surly, and looked his impatience. "She, and she, and she! Always women!" hegrumbled. "Have I not herded all of them from over the mesa at yourorder? Is one making a slow trail, and must I go herding again?" She did not answer, but looked past him at the horses. "Which did the seņora ride from Soledad?" she inquired, and Clodomiropointed out a mare of shining black, and also a dark bay ridden byMarto. "Trust him to take the best of the saddle herd, " he remarked. "Whyhave you come about it? Is the seņora wanting that black?" "Maybe so; I was not told, " she answered evasively. "But there isearly breakfast, and it is best to get your share before some quicktask is set, --and this day there are many tasks. " The women were entering the portal at the rear, because the chapel ofthe old hacienda was at the corner. There was considerable commotionas Fidelio enforced the order to search for arms;--if the Deliverersuspected treachery, how could they hope for the sympathy they came tobeg for? "Tell him there is nothing hidden under our rags but hearts ofsorrow, " said the mother of Fidelio. "Ask that he come here where wekneel to give God thanks that El Aleman is now in the power of theDeliverer. " "General Rotil does not walk, and there is no room for a horse in thisdoor. Someone of you must speak for the others, and go where he is. " The kneeling women looked at each other with troubled dark eyes. "Valencia will be the best one, " said an old woman. "She lost no oneby the pale beast, but she knows us every one. Marta, who was wife ofMiguel, was always mother and spoke for us to the padre, or anyone, but Marta----" She paused and shook her head; some women wept. All knew Marta was onewho cried to them for vengeance. "That is true, " said Valencia. "Marta was the best, but the child ofMarta is here, and knows more than we. She has done much, --more thanmany women. I think the daughter can speak best for the mother, andthat the Deliverer will listen. " Tula had knelt like the others, facing a little shelf on the wallwhere a carven saint was dimly illuminated by the light of a candle. All the room was very dark, for the dawn was yet but as a gray cloakover the world, and no window let in light. The girl stood up and turned toward Valencia. "I will go, " she said, "because it is my work to go when you speak, but the Deliverer will ask for older tongues and I will come back totell you that. " Without hesitation she walked out of the door, and the othersbent their heads and there was the little click-click of rosarybeads, slipping through their fingers in the dusk. Among the manyblack-shawled huddled figures kneeling on the hard tiles, nonenoticed the one girl in the corner where shadows were deepest, and whose soft slender hands were muffled in Valencia's fringes. Kit stood until he noted that the searching for arms did not includeher, and then crossed the patio with Fidelio on his way to thecorrals. If the black mare of Doņa Jocasta could be gotten to the rearportal, together with the few burros of the older women, she mightfollow after unnoticed. The adobe wall at the back was over ten feethigh and would serve as a shield, and the entire cavalcade would be ahalf mile away ere they came in range from the plaza. He planned to manage that the mare be there without asking help of anyIndian, and he thought he could do it while the guard was havingbreakfast. It would be easy for them to suppose that the black was hisown. Thus scheming for beauty astray in the desert, he chatted withFidelio concerning the pilgrimage of the Palomitas women, and thepossibility of Rotil's patience with them, when Tula crossed the patiohurriedly and entered the door of the _sala_. The general was finishing his breakfast, while Isidro was crouchedbeside him rewinding the bandage after a satisfactory inspection ofthe wound. The swelling was not great, and Rotil, eating cheerfully, was congratulating himself on having made a straight trail to thephysician of Mesa Blanca; it was worth a lost day to have the healingstarted right. He was in that complacent mood when Tula sped on silent bare feetthrough the _sala_ portal, and halted just inside, erect against thewall, gazing at him. "Hola! _Niņa_ who has the measure of a man! The coffee was of thebest. What errand is now yours?" "Excellency, it is the errand too big for me, yet I am the one sentwith it. They send me because the mother of me, and Anita, my sister, were in the slave drive south, and the German and the Perez mencarried whips and beat the women on that trail. " Her brave young heart seemed to creep up in her throat and choke herat thought of those whips and the women who were driven, for her voicetrembled into silence, and she stood there swallowing, her head bent, and her hands crossed over her breast, and clasped firmly there wasthe crucifix she had found in the guest room. Little pagan that shewas, she regarded it entirely as a fetish of much potency with whitepeople, and surely she needed help of all gods when she spoke for thewhole pueblo to this man who had power over many lives. Rotil stared at her, frowning and bewildered. "What the devil, --" he began, but Isidro looked up at him and noddedassent. "It is a truth she is telling, Excellency. Her father was Miguel, once major-domo of this rancho. He died from their fight, and hiswomen were taken. " "Oh, yes, that!--it happens in many states. But this German--who saysthe German and Perez were the men to do it?" "I, Tula, child of Miguel, say it, " stated the girl. "With my eyes Isaw him, --with my ears I heard the sister call out his name. The namewas Don Adolf. Over his face was tied a long beard, so! But it was theman, --the friend of Don José Perez of Soledad; all are knowing that. He is now your man, and the women ask for him. " "What women?" "All the women of Palomitas. On their knees in the chapel they makeprayers. Excellency, it robs you of nothing that you give them a Judasfor Holy Week. I am sent to ask that of the Deliverer. " She slid down to her knees on the tiles, and looked up at him. He stared at her, frowning and eyeing her intently, then chuckled, andgrinned at the others. "Did I not tell you she had the heart of a boy? And now you see it!Get up off your knees, _chiquita_. Why should you want a Judas? It isa sweetheart I must find for you instead. " "I am not getting up, " said Tula stolidly. "I am kneeling before you, my General. See! I pray to you on the tiles for that Judas. All thewomen are praying. Also the old women have made medicine to send ElAleman once more on this trail, and see you, --it has come to pass! Youhave him in your trap, but he is ours. Excellency, come once and seeall the women on their knees before the saint as I am here by you. Wemake prayers for one thing:--the Judas for our holy day!" "You young devil!" he grinned. "I wish you were a boy. Here, you menhelp me, or get me a crutch. I will see these women on their knees, and if you don't lie----" With the help of Fidelio and a cane, he started very well, and noddedto Kit. "You pick well, amigo, " he observed. "She is a wildcat, and ofinterest. Come you and see. _Por Dios!_ I've seen a crucifixion of thePenitentes and helped dig the hidden grave. Also I have heard of the'Judas' death on Holy Friday, but never before this has so young awoman creature picked a man for it, --a man alive! Courage of thedevil!" Tula arose, and went before them across the plaza to the door of thechapel. Kit knew this was the right moment for him to disappear andget the black mare back of the wall, but Rotil kept chuckling to himover the ungirlish request, and so pointedly included him in the partythat there seemed no excuse available for absenting himself. A flush of rose swept upward to the zenith heralding the sun, but inthe adobe room, with its door to the west, no light came, except bydim reflection, and as Tula entered and the men stood at thethreshold, they blocked the doorway of even that reflection, and thecandle at the saint's shrine shone dimly over the bent heads of thekneeling women. Rotil stood looking about questioningly; he had not expected to seeso many. Then at the sound of the click of the prayer beads, somerecollection of some past caused him to automatically remove hiswide-brimmed hat. "Mothers, " said Tula quietly, "the Deliverer has come. " There was a half-frightened gasp, and dark faces turned toward thedoor. "He comes as I told you, because I am no one by myself, and he couldnot know I was sent by you. I am not anyone among people, and he doesnot believe. Only people of importance should speak with a soldier whois a general. " "No, _por Dios_, my boy, you speak well!" said Rotil, clapping hishand on her shoulder, "but your years are not many and it cannot beyou know the thing you ask for. " "I know it, " asserted Tula with finality. An old woman got up stiffly, and came towards him. "We are very poor, yet even our children are robbed from us--that is why we pray. DonRamon, your mother was simple as we, and had heart for the poor. Ourlives are wasted for the masters, and our women children are stolenfor the sons of masters. That is done, and we wish they may find waysto kill themselves on the trail. But the man who drove them with whipsis now your man--and we mothers ask him of you. " The wizened old creature trembled as she spoke, and scarce lifted hereyes. She made effort to speak further, but words failed, and sheslipped to her knees and the beads slid from her nervous fingers tothe tiles. She was very old, and she had come fasting across the mesain the chill before the dawn; her two grandchildren had been drivensouth with the slaves--one had been a bride but a month--and theykilled her man as they took her. Valencia came to her and wiped the tears from her cheeks, patting heron the back as one would soothe a child, and then she looked at Rotil, nodding her head meaningly, and spoke. "It is all true as Tia Tomasa is saying, seņor. Her children are gone, and this child of Capitan Miguel knows well what she asks for. Thedays of the sorrows of Jesus are coming soon, and the Judas we wantfor that day of the days will not be made of straw to be bound on thewild bull's back, and hung when the ride is over. No, seņor, we knowthe Judas asked of you by this daughter of Miguel;--it is the palebeast called El Aleman. For many, many days have we made prayers likethis, before every shrine, that the saints would send him again to ourvalley. You, seņor, have brought answer to that prayer. You have himtrapped, but he belongs only to us women. The saints listened to us, and you are in it. Men often are in prayers like that, and have noknowing of it, seņor. " Kit listened in amazement to this account of prayers to Mexican saintsfor a Judas to hang on Good Friday! After four centuries of foreignpriesthood, and foreign saints on the shrines, the mental effect onthe aborigines had not risen above crucifixion occasionally on someproxy for their supreme earthly god, or mad orgies of vengeance on aproxy for Judas. The great drama of Calvary had taught them only newforms of torture and the certainty that vengeance was a debt to bepaid. Conrad was to them the pale beast whipping women intoslavery, --and as supreme traitor to human things must be given a Judasdeath! He shivered as he listened, and looked at the eyes of women staringout of the dusk for the answer to their prayers. "_Por Dios!_" muttered Rotil, half turning to Kit, yet losing nothingof the pleading strained faces. "Does your head catch all of that, seņor? Can't women beat hell? And women breed us all! What's theanswer?" "In this case it's up to you, General, " replied Kit. "I'm glad theresponsibility is not mine. Even as it is, women who look like theseare likely to walk through my dreams for many a night!" Rotil gloomed at them, puzzled, frowning, and at times the flicker ofa doubtful smile would change his face without lighting it. No onemoved or spoke. "Here!" he said at last, "this child and two women have spoken, butthere are over twenty of you here. Three out of twenty is novote--hold up your hands. Come, don't hang back, or you won't getJudas! There are no priests here, and no spies for priests, and therehave been words enough. Show your hands!" Kit looked back into the darkest corner, wondering what the vote ofJocasta would be; her mother was said to be Indian, or half Indian, and her hatred of the German would help her understand these darkertribal sisters. But in the many lifted hands her own could not be seen and he feltcuriously relieved, though it was no affair of his, and one voteeither way would weigh nothing. Rotil looked at the lifted hands, and grunted. "You win, _muchacha_, " he said to Tula. "I think you're the devil, andit's you made the women talk. You can come along to Soledad and fetchtheir Judas back to them. " "My thanks to you, and my service, Excellency, " said Tula. "I will goand be glad that I go for that. But I swear by the Body and Blood, andI swear on this, that I only pay the debt of my people to El Aleman. " She was helping old Tia Tomasa to her feet with one hand, and held upthe little crucifix to him with the other. She had noted that whitepeople make oath on a cross when they want to be believed, and shewished with all her pagan heart to be believed by this man who hadbeen a sort of legendary hero to her many months before she had seenhis face, or dared hope he would ever grant favor to her--Tula! But whatever effect she hoped to secure by emphasizing her oath on theChristian symbol, she was not prepared for the rough grasp on her arm, or the harsh command of his voice. "Holy God!" he growled, "why do you thrust that in my face, --you?" "Excellency--I--" began Tula, but he shook her as a cat would shake amouse. "Answer me! How comes it in your hands?" "I found it, seņor--and did no harm. " "When? Where?" "Why--I--I----" A note of warning flashed from some wireless across the girl's mind, for it was no little thing by which Ramon Rotil had suddenly become agrowling tiger with his hand near her throat. "Where?" he repeated. "On a trail, seņor. " "When?" "Three days ago. " "Where?" "At the place where the Soledad trail leaves that of Mesa Blanca. " Rotil stared at her, and then turned to Kit. "Do you know of this thing?" "No, General, I don't, " he said honestly enough, "but these women havemany such----" "No, " contradicted Rotil, "they haven't, --there's a difference. " He had seized the crucifix and held it, while he scanned the faces, and then brought his gaze back to Tula. "You will show me that place, and prove yourself, _muchacha_, " he saidgrimly. "There's something--something--Do you know, you damned youngcrane, that I can have my men shoot you against the wall out there ifyou lie to me?" "Yes, my General, but it is better to give lead to enemies--and notfriends. Also a knife is cheaper. " "Silence! or you may get both!" he growled. "Here, look well--you--allof you! Have any of you but this creature seen it?" He held it out, and Valencia, who was nearest, caught sight of it. "Ai! Tula!" she said in reproof, "you to take that when the poor----" Tula flashed one killing look at her, and Valencia stopped dead, andturned an ashen gray, and Rotil watching! "Ah--ha! I thought it!" he jeered. "Now whose trick is it to make me afool? Come, sift this thing! You, " to Valencia, "have looked on thisbefore. Whose is it?" "Seņor--I----" "So!" he said with a sort of growl in the voice, "something chokesyou? Look at me, not at the others! Also listen:--if a lie is told tome, every liar here will go before a firing squad. Whose is thiscrucifix?" Valencia's eyes looked sorrow on Tula, still under his hand, and thenon the wood and silver thing held up before her. The sun was justrolling hot and red above the mountains, and Rotil's shaggy head wasoutlined in a sort of curious radiance as the light struck the whitewall across the patio at his back. Even the silver of the crucifixcaught a glimmer of it, and to Valencia he looked like the warriorpadres of whom her grandmother used to tell, who would thunder hell'sterrors on the frightened neophytes until the bravest would grovel inthe dust and do penances unbelievable. That commanding picture came between her and Rotil, --the outlaw andsoldier and patriot. She stumbled forward with a pleading gesturetowards Tula. "Excellency, the child does no harm. She is a stranger in the house. She has picked it up perhaps when lost by the seņora, and----" "What seņora?" "She who is most sorrowful guest here, Excellency, and her arms stillbruised from the iron chains of El Aleman. " "And her name?" "Excellency, it is the woman saved from your man by the Americanoseņor here beside you. And, --she asked to be nameless while shelteredat Mesa Blanca. " "But not to me! So this is a game between you two--" and he lookedfrom Tula to Kit with sinister threat in his eyes, "it is then _your_woman who----" "Ramon--no!" said a voice from the far shadows, and the black shawledfigure stood erect and cast off the muffling disguise. Her pale faceshone like a star above all the kneeling Indians. "God of heaven!" he muttered, and his hand fell from the shoulder ofTula. "You--_you_ are one of the women who knelt here for vengeance?" "For justice, " she said, "but I was here for a reason different;--itwas a place to hide. No one helped me, let the child go! Give thesewomen what they ask or deny them, but send them away. To them I amnameless and unknown. You can see that even my presence is a thing offear to them, --let them go!" He stared at her across those frightened dark faces. It was true theydrew away from her in terror; her sudden uprising was as if she hadmaterialized from the cold tiles of the chapel floor. Kit noted thattheir startled eyes were wide with awe, and knew that they also feltthey were gazing on a beauty akin to that of the pictured saints. Eventhe glimmer of the candle touching her perfect cheek and brow added tothe unearthly appearance there in the shadows. But Ramon Rotil gazed at her across a wider space than that marked bythe kneeling Indian women! Four years were bridged by that look, andwhere the others saw a pale Madonna, he saw a barefooted child weavingflowers of the mountain for a shrine where poverty prevented acandle. He had sold maize to buy candles, and shoes for her feet, and she hadgiven him the little brown wooden crucifix. Once in the height of her reign of beauty in the hacienda of Perez, aragged brown boy from the hills had lain in wait for her under theoleanders, and thrust a tightly bound package of corn husks into herhand, and her maid regarded with amazement the broken fragments of awooden cross so poor and cheap that even the most poverty stricken ofthe peons could own one, and her wonder was great that her mistresswept over the broken pieces and strove to fit them together again. And now it lay in his hand, bound and framed in silver wiresdelicately wrought. He had traveled farther than she during the years between, and thememento of the past made him know it. "Ramon, let them go!" she repeated with gentle appeal. "Yes, " he said, taking a deep breath as if rousing from a trance, "that is best. Child--see to it, and have your way. Seņor, will youarrange that the seņora has what comfort there is here? Our horseswait, and work waits----" He saw Valencia go with protecting, outstretched hands to Jocasta, andturned away. Jocasta never moved. To save her friends from his rage she had spoken, and to her the big moment of humiliation dreamed of and feared hadcome and been lived through. He had seen her on her knees among allthat brown herd made up of such women as his mother and her mother hadbeen. From mistress of a palace on an estate large as many Europeankingdoms she had become an outcast with marks of fetters on her arms, while he was knelt to as a god by the simple people of the ranges, andheld power of life and death over a wide land! Kit could not even guess at all the tempestuous background of thedrama enacted there in the chill of the chapel at sunrise, but theclash of those two outlaw souls suddenly on guard before each other, thrilled him by the unexpected. Rotil, profane, ruthless, and jeering, had suddenly grown still before the face of a woman from whom heturned away. "Late! An hour late!" he grumbled, hobbling back to the plaza. "Whatdid I tell you? Hell of women! Well, your damned little crane got whatshe started after--huh! Why did she lie?" "Well, you know, General, " said Kit doubtfully, "that the enmitybetween you and José Perez is no secret. Even the children talk of it, and wish success to you--I've heard that one do it! Doņa Jocasta is ofa Perez household, so it was supposed you would make prisoner anyoneof their group. And Tula--well, I reckon Tula listened last night tosome rather hard things the seņora has lived through at Soledad, andknew she would rather die here than go back there. " Kit realized he was on delicate ground when trying to explain any ofthe actions of any of the black and tan group to each other, but hesought the safest way out, and drew a breath of relief at his success, for Rotil listened closely, nodding assent, yet frowning in someperplexity. "Um! what does that mean, --rather die than go back?" he demanded. "Noone has told me why the lady has come to Mesa Blanca, or what she isdoing here. I don't see--What the devil ails you?" For Kit stared at him incredulous, and whistled softly. "Haven't you got it _yet_?" he asked. "Last night you joked about agirl Marto stole, and we stole from him again. Don't you realize nowwho that girl is?" "_Jocasta!_" It was the first time he had uttered her name and there was a lowterrible note in his voice, half choked by smothered rage. "But how could Marto, --or why should--" he began and then halted, checked by various conflicting facts, and stared frowningly at Rhodeswho again strove to explain that of which he had little knowledge. "General, I reckon Marto was square to your interests about everythingbut the woman Perez and Conrad sent north into the desert, and it wasMarto's job to see that she never left it alive. Evidently he did notreport that extra task to you, for he meant to save the woman forhimself. But even at that, General, you've got to give him credit. Hesays she bewitched him, and he couldn't kill her, and he wouldn't letthe others have her. Also he risked a whale of a beating up, and somelead souvenirs, in trying to save her, even if it was for himself. Soyou see, Marto was only extra human, and is a good man. His heart'sabout broke to think he failed you, and I'll bet he wouldn't fail youagain in a thousand years!" "Yes, you have the right of that, " agreed Rotil. "I did not know; Idon't know yet what this means about Perez and--and----" "None of us do, General, " stated Kit. "I heard Valencia say it must besomething only a confessor could know, --but it must be rather awful atthat! She was started north like an insane criminal, hidden and inchains. She explains nothing, but General, you have now the two men atSoledad who made the plan, and you have here Marto who was theirtool--and perhaps--at Soledad--" he paused questioning. "Sure! that is what will be done, " decided Rotil. "See to it, you, after we are gone. Bring Doņa Jocasta to Soledad with as much show ofrespect as can be mustered in a poor land, your girl and Isidro's wifeto go along, and any comforts you can find. Yes, that is the best!Some way we will get to the bottom of this well. She must know a lotif they did not dare let her live, and Marto--well, you make a goodtalk for him, straight too--Marto will go with me. Tell no oneanything. Make your own plans. By sunset I will have time for thismystery of the chains of Doņa Jocasta. Be there at Soledad bysunset. " "At your command, General. " Then Chappo and Fidelio helped their leader into the saddle. Marto, crestfallen and silently anticipating the worst, was led out next; a_reata_ passed around the saddle horn and circling his waist wasfastened back of the saddle. His hands were free to guide his horse, but Chappo, with a wicked looking gun and three full cartridge belts, rode a few paces back of him to see that he made no forbidden use ofthem. Kit watched them ride east while the long line of women of Palomitastook up the trail over the mesa to the north. Their high notes of asong came back to him, --one of those wailing chants of a score ofverses dear to the Mexican heart. In any other place he would havedeemed it a funeral dirge with variations, but with Indian women atsunrise it meant tuneful content. Kit listened with a shiver. Because of his own vagrant airs they hadcalled him "El Pajarito" when he first drifted south over Mexicantrails, --but happy erratic tunefulness was smothered for himtemporarily. Over the vast land of riches, smiling in the sun, therebrooded the threats of Indian gods chained, inarticulate, reaching outin unexpected ways for expression through the dusky devotees at hiddenshrines. The fact that occasionally they found expression through someperverted fragment from an imported cult was a gruesome joke on theimporters. But under the eagle of Mexico, whose wide wings were usedas shield by the German vultures across seas, jokes were not popular. German educators and foreign priests with Austrian affiliations, sawto that. The spiritual harvest in Mexico was not always what theplanters anticipated, --for curious crops sprung up in wild corners ofthe land, as Indian grains wrapped in a mummy's robe spring to lifeunder methods of alien culturists. Vague drifting thoughts like this followed Kit's shiver of repulsionat that Indian joy song over the promise of a veritable live Judas. Onhim they could wreak a personal vengeance, and go honestly toconfession in some future day, with the conviction that they had, bythe sufferings they could individually and collectively invent forJudas, in some vague but laudable manner mitigated the sufferings of awhite god far away whose tribulations were dwelt upon much by theforeign priesthood. He sensed this without analysis, for his was not the analytical mind. What brain Kit had was fairly well occupied by the fact that his owndevoted partner was the moving spirit of that damnable pagan _Come, all ye_--drifting back to him from the glorified mesa, flushed goldennow by the full sun. Clodomiro came wearily up from the corral. The boy had gone withoutsleep or rest until his eyes were heavy and his movements listless. Like the women of Palomitas he also had worked overtime at the call ofTula, and Kit wondered at the concerted activity--no one had held backor blundered. "Clodomiro, " he said passing the lad a cigarette and rolling one forhimself from good new tobacco secured from Fidelio, "how comes it thateven the women of years come in the night for prayers when you ridefor them? Do they give heed to any boy who calls?" Clodomiro gave thanks for the cigarette, but was too well bred tolight it in the presence of an elder or a superior. He smelled it withpleasure, thrust it over his ear and regarded Rhodes with perfectlyfriendly and apparently sleepy black eyes. "Not always, seņor, but when Tula sends the call of Miguel, all aresurely coming, and also making the prayer. " "The call of Miguel? Why--Miguel is dead. " "That is true, seņor, but he was head man, and he had words of power, also the old Indians listened. Now Tula has the words, and as yousee, --the words are still alive! I am not knowing what they mean, --thewords, --but when Tula tells me, I take them. " "_O Tippecanoe, and Tyler too!_" hummed Kit studying the boy. "What'sin a word? Do you mean that you take a trail to carry words you don'tunderstand, because a girl younger than you tells you to?" The boy nodded indifferently. "Yes, seņor, it is my work when it is words of old prayer, and Tula issending them. It would be bad not to go, a quicksand would surelycatch my horse, or I might die from the bite of a _sorrilla rabioso_, or evil ghosts might lure me into wide _medanos_ where I would seektrails forever, and find only my own! Words can do that on a man! andTula has the words now. " "Indeed! That's a comfortable chum to have around--not! And have youno fear?" "Not so much. I am very good, " stated Clodomiro virtuously. "Some daymaybe I take her for my woman;--her clan talks about it now. She hasalmost enough age, and--you see!" He directed the attention of Rhodes to the strips of red and green andpink calico banding his arms, their fluttering ends very decorativewhen he moved swiftly. "Oh, yes, I've been admiring them. Very pretty, " said Kit amicably, not knowing the significance of it, but conscious of the wide rangeone might cover in a few minutes of simple Sonora ranch life. From thetragic and weird to the childishly inane was but a step. Clodomiro passed on to the kitchen, and Kit smoked his cigarette andpaced the outer corridor, striving for plans to move forward with hisown interests, and employ the same time and the same trail for thetask set by Ramon Rotil. Rotil had stated that the escort of Doņa Jocasta must be as completeas could be arranged. This meant a dueņa and a maid at least, and ashe had bidden Tula have her way with her "Judas, " it surely meant thatTula must go to Soledad. Very well so far, and as Rotil wouldcertainly not question the extent of the outfit taken along, why notinclude any trifles Tula and he chanced to care for? He rememberedalso that there were some scattered belongings of the Whitely's leftbehind in the haste of departure. Well, a few mule loads would be aneighborly gift to take north when he crossed the border, and Soledadwas nearer the border! It arranged itself very well indeed, and as Tula emerged from thepatio smoothing out an old newspaper fragment discarded by Fidelio, and chewing _chica_ given her by Clodomiro, he hailed her with joy. "Blessed Indian Angel, " he remarked appreciatively, "you greased thetoboggan for several kinds of hell for us this day of our salvation, but your jinx was on the job, and turned the trick our way! Do youknow you are the greatest little mascot ever held in captivity?" But Tula didn't know what "mascot" meant, and was very much occupiedwith the advertisement of a suit and cloak house in the old Nogalespaper in which some trader at the railroad had wrapped Fidelio'stobacco. It had the picture of an alluring lady in a dress of muchmaterial slipping from the shoulders and dragging around the feet. Tothe aboriginal mind that seemed a very great waste, for woven materialwas hard to come by in the desert. She attempted an inquiry concerning that wastefulness of Americanas, but got no satisfactory reply. Kit took the tattered old paper fromher hand, and turned it over because of the face of Singleton staringat him from the other side of the page. It was the account of theinquest, and in the endeavor to add interest the local reporters hadwritten up a column concerning Singleton's quarrel with the rangeboss, Rhodes, --and the mysterious disappearance of the latter acrossthe border! There was sympathetic mention made of Miss Wilfreda Bernard, heiressof Granados, and appreciative mention of the efficient manager, Conrad, who had offered all possible assistance to the authorities inthe sad affair. The general expression of the article was regret thatthe present situation along the border prevented further investigationconcerning Rhodes. The said Rhodes appeared to be a stranger in thelocality, and had been engaged by the victim of the crime despite theobjections of Manager Conrad. There followed the usual praise and list of virtues of the dead man, together with reference to the illustrious Spanish pioneer family fromwhom his wife had been descended. It was the first time Kit had beenaware of the importance of Billie's genealogy, and remembering thegenerally accepted estimates of Spanish pride, he muttered somethingabout a "rose leaf princess, and a Tennessee hill-billy!" "It's some jolt, two of them!" he conceded. _Twinkle, twinkle little star, How I wonder what you are!_ "They say bunches of stars and planets get on a jamboree and crosseach other's trail at times, and that our days are rough or smoothaccording to their tantrums. Wish I knew the name of the luminaryraising hell for me this morning! It must be doing a highland flingwith a full moon, and I'm being plunked by every scattered spark!" CHAPTER XVI THE SECRET OF SOLEDAD CHAPEL It took considerable persuasion to prevail upon Doņa Jocasta that areturn to Soledad would be of any advantage to anybody. To her it wasa place fearful and accursed. "But, seņora, a padre who sought to be of service to you is stillthere, a prisoner. In the warring of those wild men who will speak forhim? The men of Soledad would have killed him but for theirsuperstitions, and Rotil is notorious for his dislike of priests. " "I know, " she murmured sadly. "There are some good ones, but he willnever believe. In his scales the bad ones weigh them down. " "But this one at Soledad?" "Ah, yes, seņor, he spoke for me, --Padre Andreas. " "And a prisoner because of you?" "That is true. You do well to remind me of that. My own sorrows sinkme in selfishness, and it is a good friend who shows me my duty. Yes, we will go. God only knows what is in the heart of Ramon Rotil that hewishes it, but that which he says is law today wherever his men ride, and I want no more sorrow in the world because of me. We will go. " Valencia had gone placidly about preparations for the journey fromthe moment Kit had expressed the will of the Deliverer. To hesitatewhen he spoke seemed a foolish thing, for in the end he always did thething he willed, and to form part of the escort for Doņa Jocastafilled her with pride. She approved promptly the suggestion thatcertain bed and table furnishings go to Soledad for use of the seņora, and later be carried north to Mrs. Whitely, whose property they were. As capitan of the outfit, Kit bade her lay out all such additions totheir state and comfort, and he would personally make all packs anddecide what animals, chests, or provisions could be taken. This was easier managed than he dared hope. Clodomiro rode after mulesand returned with Benito and Mariano at his heels, both joyouslycontent to leave the planting of fields and offer their young lives tothe army of the Deliverer. Isidro was busy with the duties of theranch stock, and there was only Tula to see bags of nuggetsdistributed where they would be least noticed among the linen, Indianrugs, baskets and such family possessions easiest carried to theirowner. He marked the packs to be opened, and Tula, watching, did not need tobe told. The emotions of the night and the uncertainty of what lay ahead leftRhodes and Doņa Jocasta rather silent as they took the trail to thegruesome old hacienda called by Doņa Jocasta so fearful and accursed. Many miles went by with only an occasional word of warning betweenthem where the way was bad, or a word of command for the animalsfollowing. "In the night I rode without fear where I dare not look in thesunlight, " said Jocasta drawing back from a narrow ledge where stonesslipped under the hoofs of the horses to fall a hundred feet below ina dry caņon. "Yes, seņora, the night was kind to all of us, " returned Kit politely. "Even the accidents worked for good except for the pain to you. " "That is but little, and my shoulder of no use to anyone. GeneralRotil is very different, --a wound to a soldier means loss of time. Itis well that shot found him among friends for it is said that when awolf has wounds the pack unites to tear him to pieces, and there aremany, --many pesos offered to the traitor who will trap Rotil by anylucky accident. " "Yet he took no special care at Mesa Blanca. " "Who knows? He brought with him only men of the district as guard. Besure they knew every hidden trail, and every family. Ramon Rotil is acoyote for the knowing of traps. " She spoke as all Altar spoke, with a certain pride in the ability ofthe man she had known as a burro driver of the sierras. For threeyears he had been an outlaw with a price on his head, and as a rebelgeneral the price had doubled many times. "With so many poor, how comes it that no informer has been found? Thereward would be riches untold to a poor _paisano_. " "It might be to his widow, " said Doņa Jocasta, "but no sons of his, and no brothers would be left alive. " "True. I reckon the friends of Rotil would see to that! Faithfulhearts are the ones he picks for comrades. I heard an old-timer saythe Deliverer has that gift. " She looked at him quickly, and away again, and went silent. Hewondered if it was true that there had been love between these two, and she had been unfaithful. Love and Doņa Jocasta were fruitfulthemes for the imagination of any man. Valencia was having the great adventure of her life in her journey toSoledad, and she chattered to Tula as a maiden going to a marriage. Three people illustrious in her small world were at once to becentered on the stage of war before her eyes. She told Tula it was athing to make songs of, --the two men and the most beautiful woman! When they emerged from the caņon into the wide spreading plain, withthe sierras looming high and blue beyond, the eyes of Kit and Tulamet, and then turned toward their own little camp in the lap of themother range. All was flat blue against the sky there, and noindications of caņon or gulch or pocket discernible. Even as they drewnearer to the hacienda, and Kit surreptitiously used the preciousfield glasses, thus far concealed from all new friends of the desert, he found difficulty in locating their hill of the treasure, andrealized that their fears of discovery in the little caņon had beengroundless. In the far-away time when the giant aliso had flourishedthere by the caņon stream, its height might have served to mark thespecial ravine where it grew, but the lightning sent by pagan gods hadannihilated that landmark forever, and there was no other. The glint of tears shone in the eyes of Tula, and she rode withdowncast eyes, crooning a vagrant Indian air in which there were birdcalls, and a whimpering long-drawn tremulo of a baby coyote caught ina trap, a weird ungodly improvisation to hear even with the shiningsun warming the world. Kit concluded she was sending her brand of harmony to Miguel and theghosts on guard over the hidden trail. --And he rather wished she wouldstop it! Even the chatter of Valencia grew silent under the spell of the girl'sgruesome intonings, --ill music for her entrance to a new portal ofadventure. "It sounds of death, " murmured Doņa Jocasta, and made the sign of thecross. "The saints send that the soul to go next has made peace withGod! See, seņor, we are truly crossing a place of death as she sings. That beautiful valley of the green border is the _sumidero_, --thequicksands from hidden springs somewhere above, " and she pointed tothe blue sierras. "I think that is the grave José meant for me atSoledad. " "Nice cheerful end of the trail--not!" gloomed Kit strictly tohimself. "That little imp is whining of trouble like some be-deviledprophetess. " Afterwards he remembered that thought, and wished he could forget! Blue shadows stretched eastward across the wide zacatan meadows, andthe hacienda on the far mesa, with its white and cream adobe walls, shone opal-like in the lavender haze of the setting sun. Kit Rhodes had timed the trip well and according to instruction of thegeneral, but was a bit surprised to find that his little cavalcade wasmerely part of a more elaborate plan arranged for sunset at Soledad. A double line of horsemen rode out from the hacienda to meet them, arather formidable reception committee as they filed in soldier-likeformation over the three miles of yellow and green of the springgrowths, and halted where the glint of water shone in a dam filledfrom wells above. Their officer saluted and rode forward, his hat in his hand as hebowed before Doņa Jocasta. "General Rotil presents to you his compliments, Seņora Perez, andsends his guard as a mark of respect when you are pleased to ride oncemore across your own lands. " "My thanks are without words, seņor. I appreciate the honor shown tome. My generalissimo will answer for me. " She indicated Kit with a wan smile, and her moment of hesitation over, his title reminded him that no name but El Pajarito had been given himby his Indian friends. That, and the office of manager of Mesa Blanca, was all that served as his introduction to her, and to Rotil. With theold newspaper in his pocket indicating that Kit Rhodes was the onlyname connected with the murder at Granados, he concluded it was justas well. The guard drew to either side, and the officer and Kit, with DoņaJocasta between them, rode between the two lines, followed by Tula andValencia. Then the guard fell in back of them, leaving Clodomiro withthe pack animals and the Indian boys to follow after in the dust. Doņa Jocasta was pale, and her eyes sought Kit's in troubled question, but she held her head very erect, and the shrouding lace veil hid allbut her eyes from the strangers. "Seņor Pajarito, " she murmured doubtfully. "The sun is still shining, and there are no chains on my wrists, --otherwise this guard gives muchlikeness to my first arrival at the hacienda of Soledad!" "I have a strong belief that no harm is meant to you by the generalcommanding, " he answered, "else I would have sought another trail, andthese men look friendly. " "God send they be so!" "They have all the earmarks, --and look!" They were near enough the hacienda to see men emerge from the portal, and one who limped and leaned on a cane, moved ahead of the others andstood waiting. "It is an honor that I may bid you welcome to your own estate, DoņaJocasta, " he said grimly. "We have only fare of soldiers to offer youat first, but a few days and good couriers can remedy that. " "I beg that you accept my thanks, _Commandante_, " she murmured lowly. "The trail was not of my choosing, and it is an ill time for women tocome journeying. " "The time is a good time, " he said bluntly, "for there is a limit tomy hours here. And in one of them I may do service for you. " His men stood at either side watching. There were wild tales told ofRamon Rotil and women who crossed or followed his trail, but here wasthe most beautiful of all women riding to his door and he gave her nosmile, --merely motioned to the Americano that he assist her from thesaddle. "The supper is ready, and your woman and the priest will see that careis given for your comfort, " he continued. "Afterwards, in the_sala_----" She bent her head, and with Kit beside her passed on to the innerportal. There a dark priest met her and reached out his hand. "No welcome is due me, Padre Andreas, " she said brokenly. "I turnedcoward and tried to save myself. " "Daughter, " he returned with a wry smile at Kit, and a touch of cynichumor, "you had right in going. The lieutenant would have had nopleasure in adding me to his elopement, and, as we hear, --your stolentrail carried you to good friends. " Kit left them there and gave his attention to space for the packs andoutfit, but learned that the general had allotted to him the smallcorral used in happier days for the saddle horses of the family. Therewas a gate to it and a lock to the gate. Chappo had been given charge, and when all was safely bestowed, he gave the key to the American. The brief twilight crept over the world, and candles were lit when Kitreturned to the corridor. Rotil was seated, giving orders to men whorode in and dismounted, and others who came out from supper, mountedand rode away. It was the guard from a wide-flung arc bringing reportof sentinels stationed at every pass and water hole. Padre Andreas was there presenting some appeal, and to judge by hismanner he was not hopeful of success. Yet spoke as a duty of hisoffice and said so. "What is your office to me?" asked Rotil coldly. "Do your duty andconfess him when the time comes if that is his wish. It is more thanhe would have given to her or the foreman who stored the ammunition. Him he had killed as the German had Miguel Herrara killed on theborder, --and Herrara had been faithful to that gun running for months. When man or woman is faithful to José Perez long enough to learnsecrets, he rewards them with death. A dose of his own brew will befit medicine. " "But the woman, --she is safe. She is----" "Yes, very safe!" agreed Rotil, sneering. "Shall I tell you, piousFather, how safe she is? The cholo who took food to Perez and thatGerman dog has brought me a message. See, it is on paper, and is clearfor any to read. You--no not you, but Don Pajarito here shall read it. He is a neutral, and not a padre scheming to save the soul of a manwho never had a soul!" Kit held it to the light, read it, and returned it to Rotil. "I agree with you, General. He offers her to you in exchange for hisown freedom. " "Yes, and to pay for that writing I had him chained where he could seeher enter the plaza as a queen, if we had queens in Mexico! You had anunseen audience for your arrival. The guard reports that the Germanfriend of Perez seems to love you, Don Pajarito, very much indeed. " "Sure he does. Here is the mark of one of his little love pats with amonkey wrench, " and Kit parted his hair to show the scar of theGranados assault. "I got that for interfering when he was trying tokill his employer's herds with ground glass in their feed. " "So? no wonder if he goes in a rage to see you riding as a lady'scaballero while he feels the weight of chains in a prison. This worldis but a little place!" "That is true, " said Padre Andreas, "regarding Kit, for the story ofthe horses was told to me by Doņa Jocasta here in Soledad!" "How could that be?" demanded Rotil. "Is it not true you met the ladyfirst at Mesa Blanca?" "As you say, " said Kit, alert at the note of suspicion, "if the ladyknows aught of Granados, it is a mystery to me, and is of interest. " "Not so much a mystery, " said the priest. "Conrad boasted much whenglasses were emptied with Perez on the Hermosillo rancho, and DoņaJocasta heard. He told the number of cavalry horses killed by his men, also the owner of that ranch of Granados who had to be silenced forthe cause. " "Thanks for those kind words, Padre, " said Kit. "If Doņa Jocasta has aclear memory of that boasting, she may save a life for me. " "So?" said Rotil speculatively. "We seem finding new trails atSoledad. Whose life?" "The partner of a chum of mine, " stated Kit lightly, as he did somequick thinking concerning the complications likely to arise if he wasregarded as a possible murderer hiding from the law. "My own hunch isthat Conrad himself did it. " "Have you any idea of a trap for him?" "N-no, General, unless he was led to believe that I was under guardhere. He might express his sentiments more freely if he thought Iwould never get back across the border alive. " "Good enough! This offer from Perez is to go into the keeping of DoņaJocasta. You've the duty of taking it to her. We have not yet foundthat ammunition. " "Well, it did cross the border, and somebody got it. " "He says it was moved to Hermosillo before Juan Gonsalvo, theoverseer, died. " "Was shot, you mean, after it was cached. " "Maybe so, but he offers to trade part of it for his liberty, anddeliver the goods north of Querobabi. " "Yes, General, --into the bodies of your men if you trust him. " Rotil chuckled. "You are not so young as you look, Don Pajarito, andneed no warning. It is the room next the _sala_ where I will havePerez and Conrad brought. The seņora can easily overhear what is said. It may be she will have the mind to help when she sees that offer hemade. " "It would seem so, yet--women are strange! They go like the padre, toprayers when a life is at stake. " "Some women, and some priests, boy, " said the dark priest. "It may bethat you do not know Doņa Jocasta well. " This remark appeared to amuse Rotil, for he smiled grimly and with agesture indicated that they were to join Doņa Jocasta. She was rested and refreshed by a good supper. Valencia and Elena, thecook, had waited upon her and the latter waxed eloquent over thestupendous changes at Soledad from the time of Doņa Jocasta's supperthe previous day. Many of the angry men had been ready to start afterMarto who had cheated them, when a courier rode in with the word thatDon José and Seņor Conrad were close behind. Then the surprise of allwhen Don José was captured, and it was seen that Elena had beencooking these many days, not for simple vaqueros, but for somesoldiers of the revolution by which peace and plenty was to come toall the land! It was a beautiful dream, and the Deliverer was to makeit come true! Tula sat in the shadow against the wall, like some slender Indiancarving, mute and expressionless while the eyes of the woman rolled asthe two old friends exchanged their wonder tales of the night and day!Elena made definite engagement to be with the "Judas" trailers on thedark Friday, and both breathed blessings on Rotil who had promisedthem the right man for the hanging. It was this cheerful topic Kit entered upon with the written note fromPerez to the general. He had no liking for his task, as his eyesrested on Doņa Jocasta, beautiful, resigned and detached from thescene about her. He remembered what Rotil had said scoffingly ofsaints lifted from shrines--a man never forgot that shrine was empty! "Mine is a thankless task, seņora, but the general decided you are thebest keeper of this, " and he gave to her the scribbled page torn froma note book. She took it and held it unread, looking at him with dark tragic eyes. "I have fear of written words, seņor, and would rather hear themspoken. So many changes have come that I dread new changes. No matterwhere my cage is moved, it is still a cage to me, " she saidwistfully. "I've a hunch, Doņa Jocasta, that the bars of that cage are going tobe broken for you, " ventured Kit, taking the seat she indicated, "andthis note may be one of the weapons to do it. Evidently Seņor Perezhas had some mistaken information concerning the stealing of you fromhere;--he thought it was by the general's order. So mistaken was hethat he thought you were the object of Rotil's raid on Soledad, andfor his own freedom he has offered to give you, and half his stock ofammunition, to General Ramon Rotil, and agree to a truce between theirfactions. " "Ah! he offers to make gift of me to the man he hates, " she said aftera long silence. "And the guns and ammunition, --he also surrendersthem?" "He offers--but it is written here! Since the guns, however, have beentaken south, he cannot give them; he can only promise them, until suchtime----" "Ho!" she said scornfully. "Is that the tale he tells? It is truethere are guns in the south, but guns are also elsewhere! He forgets, does José Perez, --or else he plays for time. This offer, " and shereferred to the note, "it is not written since we arrived--no. It waswritten earlier, when he thought I was held by that renegade far inthe desert. " "I reckon that is true, seņora, for after receiving it, Rotil had himchained in a room fronting the plaza that he might see you enterSoledad with honors. " "Ramon Rotil did that?" she mused, looking at the note thoughtfully, "and he gives to me the evidence against José? Seņor, in the Perezlands we hear only evil things and very different things about Rotil. They would say this paper was for sale, but not for a gift. And--hegives it to me!" Kit also remembered different things and evil things told of Rotil, but they were not for discussion with a lady. He had wondered a bitthat it was not the padre who was given the message to transmit, yetsuddenly he realized that even the padre might have tried to make it aquestion of barter, for the padre wanted help for his priestly officein the saving of Perez' soul, and incidentally of his life. "Yes, seņora, it seems a free-will offering, and he said to tell youit would be in the room adjoining this that Perez would be questionedas to the war material. Rotil's men have searched, and his officershave questioned, but Perez evidently thinks Rotil will not executehim, as a ransom will pay much better. " "That is true, death pays no one--no one!" Her voice was weighted with sadness, and Kit wondered what the cloudwas under which she lived. The padre evidently knew, but none ofRotil's men. It could not be the mere irregularity of her life withPerez, for to the peon mind she was the great lady of a greathacienda, and wife of the padrone. No, --he realized that the sin ofDoņa Jocasta had been a different thing, and that the shadow of itenveloped her as a dark cloak of silence. "It is true, seņora, that death pays no one, except that the death ofone man may save other lives more valuable. That often happens, "remarked Kit, with the idea of distracting her from her own woe, whatever it was. "It might have seemed a crime if one of his nurseshad chucked a double dose of laudanum into Bill Hohenzollern's babyfeed, but that nurse would have saved the lives of hundreds ofthousands of innocents, so you never can tell whether a murderer is adevil, or a man doing work of the angels. " "Bill?" Evidently the name was a new one to Doņa Jocasta. "That's the name of the Prussian pirate of the Huns across the water. Your friend Conrad belongs to them. " "My friend! My _friend_, seņor!" and Doņa Jocasta was on her feet, white and furious, her eyes flaming hatred. Kit Rhodes was appalled atthe spirit he had carelessly wakened. He remembered the statement ofthe priest that he evidently did not know the lady well, and realizedin a flash that he certainly did not, also that he would feel morecomfortable elsewhere. "Seņora, I beg a thousand pardons for my foolishness, " he implored. "My--my faulty Spanish caused me to speak the wrong word. Will you notforgive me such a stupid blunder? Everyone knows the German brutecould not be a friend of yours, and that you could have only hatred ofhis kind. " She regarded him steadily with the ever ready suspicion against anAmericano showing in her eyes, but his regret was so evident, and hisdevotion to her interests so sincere, that the tension relaxed, andshe sank back in her chair, her hand trembling as she covered her eyesfor a moment. "It is I who am wrong, seņor. You cannot know how the name of that manis a poison, and why absolution is refused me because I will notforgive, --and will not say I forgive! I will not lie, and because ofthe hate of him my feet will tread the fires of hell. The padre istelling me that, so what use to pray? Of what use, I ask you?" Kit could see no special use if she had accepted the threat of thepriest that hell was her portion anyway. "Oh, I would not take that gabble of a priest seriously if I wereyou, " he suggested. "No one can beat me in detesting the German andwhat he stands for, but I have no plans of going to hell for it--noton your life! To hate Conrad, or to kill him would be like killing arattlesnake, or stamping a tarantula into the sand. He has been letlive to sting too many, and Padre Andreas tells me you heard him boastof an American killing at Granados!" "That is true, seņor, and it was so clever too! It was pleasure forhim to tell of that because of clever tricks in it. They climbed polesto the wires and called the man to a town, then they waited on thatroad and shot him before he reached the town. The alcalde of thatplace decided the man had killed himself, and Conrad laughed with JoséPerez on account of that, because they were so clever!" "They?" queried Kit trying to prevent his eagerness from showing inhis voice. "Who helped him? Not Perez?" "No, seņor, in that sin José had no part. It was a very important manwho did not appear important;--quite the other way, and like a man ofpiety. His name, I am remembering it well, for it is Diego, --but saidin the American way, which is James. " "Diego, said in the American way?" repeated Kit thoughtfully. "Is hethen an American?" "Not at all, seņor! He is Aleman _commandante_ for the border. Hisword is an order for life or death, and José Perez is of his circle. The guns buried by Perez are bought with the German money; it is forwar of Sonora against Arizona when that day comes. " "Shucks! that day isn't coming unless the Huns put more of a forcedown here than is yet in sight, " declared Kit, "but that 'Diego'bothers me. I know many James', --several at Granados, but not the sortyou tell of, seņora. Will you speak of that murder again, and let itbe put on paper for me? I have friends at Granados who may be troubledabout it, and your help would be as--as the word of an angel at theright hour. " "A sad angel, seņor, " she said with a sigh, "but why should I not helpyou to your wish since you have guarded me well? It is a little thingyou ask. " The Indian women at the far end of the _sala_ had lowered theirvoices, but their gossip in murmurs and expressive gestures flowed on, and only Tula gave heed to the talk at the table of wars and guns, andsecrets of murder, and that was no new thing in Sonora. One door of the _sala_ opened from the patio, and another into a roomused as a chapel after the old adobe walls of the mission church hadmelted utterly back into the earth. Rotil had selected it merelybecause its only window was very high, an architectural variationcaused by a wing of the mission rooms still standing when Soledadhacienda was built. A new wall had been built against the older andlower one which still remained, with old sleeping cells of theneophytes used as tool sheds, and an unsightly litter of propped ortumbling walls back of the ranch house. The door from the _sala_ was slightly ajar, and the voice of Fideliowas heard there. He asked someone for another candle, and anotherchair. And there was the movement of feet, and rearrangement offurniture. Rotil entered the _sala_ from the patio, and stood just inside, looking about him. With a brief word and gesture he indicated that Elena and Valenciavacate. At Tula he glanced, but did not bid her follow. He noted thefolded paper in the hand of Doņa Jocasta, but did not address her; itwas to Kit he spoke. "The door will be left open. I learn that Conrad distrusts Perezbecause he paid German money, and shipped the guns across the border, but Perez never uncovered one for him. They are badly scared and readyto cut each other's throats if they had knives. Doņa Jocasta mayoverhear what she pleases, and furnish the knives as well if she sodecides. " But Doņa Jocasta with a shudder put up her hand in protest. "No knife, no knife!" she murmured, and Rotil shrugged his shouldersand looked at Kit. "That little crane in the corner would walk barefoot over embers ofhell to get a knife and get at Conrad, " he said. "You have taste inyour favorites, seņor. " He seemed to get a certain amusement in the contemplation of Kit andTula; he had seen no other American with quite that sort of additionto his outfit. Kit was content to let him think his worst, as to tellthe truth would no doubt lose them a friend. It tickled the general'sfancy to think the thin moody Indian girl, immature and childlike, wasan American's idea of a sweetheart! Voices and the clank of chains were heard in the patio, and then inthe next room. "Why bring us here when your questions were given answer as well inanother place?" demanded a man's voice, and at that Doņa Jocastalooked at Rotil. "Yes, why do you?" she whispered. He stared at her, frowning and puzzled. "Did I not tell you? I did it that you might hear him repeat hisoffer. What else?" "I--see, " she said, bending her head, but as Rotil went to the door, Kit noted that the eyes of Doņa Jocasta followed him curiously. Heconcluded that the unseen man of the voice was José Perez. Then the voice of Conrad was heard cursing at a chain too heavy. Rotillaughed, and walked into the chapel. "I can tell you something, you German Judas!" he said coldly. "Youwill live to see the day when these chains, and this safe old chapel, will be as a paradise you once lived in. You will beg to crawl on yourknees to be again comfortably inside this door. " "Is that some Mexican joke?" asked Conrad, and Rotil laughed again. "Sure it is, and it will be on you! They tell me you collect girls inSonora for a price. Well, they have grown fond of you, --the Indianwomen of Sonora! They say you must end your days here with them. Ihave not heard of a ransom price they would listen to, --though youmight think of what you have to offer. " "Offer?" growled Conrad. "How is there anything to offer in Sonorawhen Perez here has sent the guns south?" "True, the matter of ransom seems to rest with Seņor Perez who issaving of words. " "I put the words on paper, and sent it by your man, " said Perez. "Whatelse is there to say?" "Oh, that?" returned Rotil. "My boys play tricks, and make jokes withme like happy children. Yes, Chappo did bring words on paper, --foolishwords he might have written himself. I take no account of such things. You are asked for the guns, and I get foolish words on paper of awoman you would trade to me, and guns you would send me. " "Well?" "Who gives you right to trade the woman, seņor?" "Who has a better right? She belongs to me. " "Very good! And her name?" "You know the name. " "Perhaps, but I like my bargains with witness, and they must witnessthe name. " "Jocasta--" There was a slight hesitation, and Rotil interrupted. "She has been known as Seņora Jocasta Perez, is it not so?" "Well--yes, " came the slow reply, "but that was foolishness of thepeons on my estates. They called her that. " "Very good! One woman called Jocasta Perez is offered to me in tradewith the guns. José Perez, have you not seen that the Doņa JocastaPerez is even now mistress of Soledad, and that my men and I are asher servants?" Jocasta on the other side of the door strangled a half sob as sheheard him, and crept nearer the door. "Oh, you are a good one at a bargain, Ramon Rotil! You try to pretendthe woman cannot count in this trade, but women always count, --womenlike Jocasta!" "So? Then we will certainly take count of the woman--one woman! Now toguns and ammunition. How many, and where?" "At Hermosillo, and it will take a week. " "I have no week to waste, and I do not mean the guns at Hermosillo. You have five minutes, José Perez. Also those playful boys arebuilding a nice warm fire for the branding irons. And you will bothget a smell of your own burning hides if I wait longer for ananswer. " "Holy God!" shouted Conrad. "Why burn me for his work? From me theguns have been hid as well as from you;--all I got was promises! Theyare my guns, --my money paid, but he is not straight! Here at Soledadhe was to show me this time, but I think now it was a trick to murderme as he murdered Juan Gonsalvo, the foreman who stored them away forhim. " "Animal!" growled Perez. "You have lost your head to talk of murdersto me! Two murders at Granados are waiting for you, and it is not farto ship you back to the border! Walk with care, seņor!" "You are each wasting time with your truth telling, " stated Rotil. "This is no time to count your dead men. It is the count of the guns Iwant. And a sight of the ammunition. " "Give me a guide to Hermosillo, and the price of guns can be got foryou. " "It is not the _price_ of guns I asked you for, it is guns, --the gunsConrad and Herrara got over the border for you. Your time is goingfast, José Perez. " "They are not to be had this side of Hermosillo, send me south if youwant them. But it is well to remember that if an accident happens tome you never could get them, --never! I alone know their hidingplace. " "For that reason have I waited for your visit to Soledad, --you andyour carts and your pack mules, " stated Rotil. "Do not forget thatMarto Cavayso and other men of mine have been for weeks with yourranchmen. Your pack train comes here empty, and means one thingonly--they came for the American guns! Your minutes are going, seņor, and the branding irons are getting heat from the fire. One moreminute!" "Write the figures of the ransom, and grant me a messenger toHermosillo. You have the whip hand, you can make your price. " "But me? What of _my_ ransom?" demanded Conrad. "My money, and my timepaid for those guns--I have not seen one of them this side of theborder! If no guns are paid for me, money must be paid. " "No price is asked for you. I told you the women have named noransom. " "Women? That is foolishness. It is not women for whom you hold me! Hehas turned traitor, has Perez! He wants me sent back across the borderwithout that price of the guns for his mushroom government! He hastold his own tales of Herrara, and of Singleton, and they arelies--all lies!" "But what of the tale of Diego, said in the American way?" asked Kitstepping inside the room. "Diego! Diego!" repeated Conrad and made a leap at Perez. "You havesold me out to the Americans, you scum! James warned me you were scumof the gutters, and now----" The guard caught him, and he stood there shaking with fury in the dimlight. Perez drew away with a curse. "To hell with you and James and your crew on the border, " he growled. "I care nothing as to how soon the damned gringos swing you both. Whenyou Germans want to use us we are your 'dear brothers. ' When weout-trick you, we are only scum, eh? You can tell your _commandante_James that I won the game from him, and all the guns!" "My thanks to you, General Rotil, that I have been allowed to hearthis, " said Kit, "also that I have witness. I'd do as much for you ifthe chance comes. Two men were killed on the border by Conrad underorder of this James. Herrara was murdered in prison for fear he wouldturn informer about the guns. Singleton was murdered to prevent himinvestigating the German poisoning of cavalry horses. The German swinemeant to control Granados rancho a few months longer for their ownpurposes. " "_Meant_ to?" sneered Conrad. "You raw cub!--you are playing withdynamite and due for a fall. So is your fool country! Though Perezhere has lost his nerve and turned traitor to our deal, that is only alittle puff of wind against the bulwarks of the Fatherland! We willhold Granados; we will hold the border; and with Mexico (not thiscrook of the west, but _real_ Mexico) we will win and hold everyborder state and every Pacific coast state! You, --poor fool!--willnever reach Granados alive to tell this. You are but one American inthe Indian wilderness, and you are sure to go under, but you goknowing that though James and I die, and though a thousand more of usdie, there will be ten thousand secret German workers in America tocarry on our plan until all the world will be under the power of thePrussian eagle! You, --who think you know so much, can add _that_ tofinish your education in Sonora, and carry it to hell with you!" His voice, coldly contemptuous at first, had risen to a wrathfulshriek as he faced the American and hurled at him the exultance of theTeuton dream. "I certainly am in great luck to be your one American confessor, "grinned Kit, "but I'll postpone that trip as long as possible. Ireckon General Rotil will let the padre help me make note of thiseducation you are handing out to me. A lot of Americans need it! HaveI your permission, General?" "Go as far as you like, " snapped Rotil. "They have used up their timelimit in scolding like old women. Perez, I wait for the guns. " "Send me to Hermosillo and I will recover enough for a ransom, " saidPerez. Rotil regarded him a moment through half-closed, sinister eyes. "That was your last chance, and you threw it away. Chappo, strip him;Fidelio, fetch the branding irons. " Perez shrank back, staring at Rotil as if fascinated. He was strivingto measure the lengths to which the "Hawk of the Sierras" would go, and a sudden gleam of hope came into his eyes as Padre Andreas heldup a crucifix before Chappo, waving him aside. "No, Rotil, --torture is a thing for animals, not men! Hell waits forthe sinner who----" "Hell won't wait for you one holy minute!" snapped Rotil. "Get backwith the women where you belong; there is men's work to do here. " He caught the priest by the arm in an iron grip and whirled himtowards the _sala_. The man would have fallen but for Kit who caughthim, but could not save the crash of his head against the door. Bloodstreamed from a cut in his forehead, and thus he staggered into theroom where Doņa Jocasta stood, horror-stricken and poised for flight. But the sight of the blood-stained priest, and the sound of a strange, half animal cry from the other room, turned her feet that way. "No, Ramon! No-_no_!" she cried and sped through the door to flingherself between him and his victims. Her arms were stretched wide and she halted, almost touching him, withher back to the chained man towards whom she had not glanced, but shecould not help seeing the charcoal brazier with the red-hot brandingirons held by Fidelio. The gasping cry had come from Conrad by whomthe brazier was set. Ramon Rotil stared at her, frowning as if he would fling her from hispath as he had the priest. "No, Ramon!" she said again, still with that supplicating look andgesture, "send them out of here, --both these men. I would smother anddie in a room with that German beast. You will not be sorry, RamonRotil, I promise you that, --I promise you by the God I dare notface!" [Illustration: "No, Ramon! No!" she cried, and flung herself between himand his victims. ] "Ho!" snarled Perez. "Is the priest also her lover that she----" "Send the German out, and let José Perez stay to see that I keep mypromise, " she said letting her arms fall at her side, but facing Rotilwith an addition of hauteur in her poise and glance. "The price hewill pay for the words he has spoken here will be a heavy price, --onehe has risked life to hold! Send that pale snake and your men outside, Ramon. " Perez was leaning forward, his face strained and white, watching her. He could not see her face, but the glimpse of hope came again into hiseyes--a woman might succeed with Rotil where a priest would fail! Rotil, still frowning at her, waved his hand to Chappo and Fidelio. "Take him away, " he said, "and wait beyond. " The shuffling movement and clank of chains was heard, but she did notturn her head. Instead she moved past Rotil, lifted a candle, and wenttowards the shrine at the end of the room. A table was there with a scarf across it, and back of the table threesteps leading up to a little platform on which were ranged two orthree mediocre statues of saints, once brilliant with blue and scarletand tinsel, but tarnished and dim from the years. In the center was a painting, also dark and dim in which only a halowas still discernible in the light of the candle, but the features ofthe saint pictured there were shadowed and elusive. For a moment she knelt on the lower step and bent her head because ofthose remnants of a faith which was all she knew of earthly hope, --andthen she started to mount the steps. "The curse of God shrivel you!" muttered Perez in cold fury--"comedown from there!" Without heed to the threat, she moved the little statues to right orleft, and then lifted her hand, resting it on the wooden frame of thepainting. "Call the Americano, " she said without turning. "You will need a man, but not a man of Altar. Another day may come when you, Ramon, may haveneed of this house for hiding!" Rotil strode to the door and motioned Kit to enter, then he closedboth doors and gave no heed to Perez, crouched there like a chainedcoyote in a trap. "Come down!" he said again. "You are in league with hell to know ofthat. I never gave it to you! Come down! I meant to tell after he hadfinished with Conrad--I mean to tell!" "He waited too long, and spoke too much, " she said to Rotil. "Keepwatch on him, and let the Americano give help here. " Kit mounted the step beside her, and at her gesture took hold of theframe on one side. She found a wedge of wood at the other side anddrew it out. The loosened frame was lifted out by Kit and carried downthe three steps; it was a panel a little over two feet in width andfour in height. "Set it aside, and watch José Perez while General Rotil looks within, "she said evenly. Rotil glanced at Perez scowling black hate at her, and then turned toJocasta who held out the candle. "It is for you to see, --you and no other, " she said. "You have saved awoman he would have traded as a slave, and I give you more than aslave's ransom. " He took the candle and his eyes suddenly flamed with exultation as hermeaning came to him. "_Jocasta!_" he muttered as if scarce believing, and then he mountedthe step, halted an instant in the panel of shadow, and, holding thecandle over his head, he leaned forward and descended on the otherside of the wall. "You damned she-wolf of the hills!" growled Perez with the concentratedhate of utter failure in his voice. "I fed you, and my money coveredyour nakedness, and now you put a knife in my neck and go back tocattle of the range for a mate! You, --without shame or soul!" "That is true, " she said coldly. "You killed a soul in the _casita_ ofthe oleanders, José Perez, and it was a dead woman you and the Germanchained to be buried in the desert. But even the dead come back tohelp friends who are faithful, José, --and I am as the dead who walk. " She did not look at him as she spoke, but sank on her knees before thedark canvas where only the faint golden halo gave evidence of someincarnated holiness portrayed there. Her voice was low and even, andthe sadness of it thrilled Kit. He thought of music of sweet chords, and a broken string vibrating, for the hopelessness in her voice helda certain fateful finality, and her delicate dark loveliness---- Rotil emerged from the doorway of the shrine and stood there, acurious substitute for the holy picture, looking down on her with awonderful light in his face. "Your ransom wins for you all you wish of me, --except the life of oneman, " he said, and with a gesture indicated that Kit help her to herfeet. He did so, and saw that she was very white and trembling. Rotil looked at Perez over her head, and Perez scowled back, with allthe venom of black hate. "You win!--but a curse walks where she walks. Ask her? Ask Marto ofthe men she put under witchcraft! Ask Conrad who had good luck tillshe hated him! If you have a love, or a child, or anything dear, lether not look hate on them, for her knife follows that look! Ask her ofthe knife she set in the heart of a child for jealousy of Conrad! Ai, general though you are, your whole army is not strong enough to guardyou from the ill luck you will take with the gift _she_ gives! She isa woman under a curse. Ha! Look at her as I say it, for you hear thetruth. Ask the padre!" Kit realized that Perez was launching against her the direst weight ofevil the Mexican or Indian mind has to face. Though saints and heavenand hell might be denied by certain daring souls, the potency ofwitchcraft was seldom doubted. Men or women accused of it were shunnedas pariahs, and there had been known persons who weakened and dwindledinto death after accusation had been put against them. He thought of it as she cowered under each separate count of the curselaunched against her. She bent like a slender reed under the strokesof a flail, lower and lower against his arm, but when the deadly voiceflung the final taunt at her, she straightened slowly and looked atRotil. "Yes, ask the padre--or ask me!" she said in that velvet soft voice ofutter despair. "That I sent an innocent soul to death is too true. Tomy great sorrow I did it;--I would do it again! For that my life isindeed a curse to me, --but his every other word a lie!" Then she took a step forward, faltered, and fell back into theoutstretched arm of Kit. "Take Seņora Perez to the women, and come back, " said Rotil. Kit notedthat even though he moved close, and bent over the white unconsciousface, he did not touch her. "Seņora Perez!" repeated Perez contemptuously. "You are generous withother men's names for your women! Her name is the Indian mother'sname. " "Half Indian, " corrected Rotil, "and her naming I will decide anothertime. " Kit returned, and without words proceeded to help replace the holypicture in its niche. In the struggle with the padre, a chunk of adobehad been knocked from the wall near the door, and he picked it up, crumbling it to a soft powder and sprinkled it lightly over the stepswhere foot prints were traceable in the dust. Rotil who had gone to the door to recall the guard, halted and watchedhim closely. "Good!" he said. "You also give me a thought concerning this animal;he will bark if he has listeners, and even the German should nothear--one never knows! I need a cage for a few hours. You have been afriend, and know secret things. Will you lock him in your own room andhold the key to yourself?" "Surest thing you know, " answered Kit though with the uncomfortablecertainty that the knowledge of too many secret things in Mexico wasnot conducive to long life for the knower. "I may also assure you thatMarto is keen on giving you honest service that his one fault may beatoned for. " "He will get service, " stated Rotil. "You saved me a good man there, amigo. " He flung open the door of the corridor and whistled for the guard. "Remove this man and take your orders from Capitan----" He halted, andhis eyes narrowed quizzically. "It seems we never were introduced, amigo, and we know only your joyname of the singer, but there must be another. " "Oh, yes, there's another, all right, " returned Kit, knowing thatConrad would enlighten Rotil if he did not. "I'm the hombre suspectedof that Granados murder committed by Conrad, --and the name isRhodes. " "So? Then the scolding of these two comrades gives to you your freedomfrom suspicion, eh? That is good, but--" He looked at Kit, frowning. "See here, I comprehend badly. You told me it was the friend of your_compadre_ who was the suspected one!" "Sure! I've a dandy partner across the border. He's the old man yousaw at Yaqui Spring, and I reckon I'm a fairly good friend of his. He'd say so!" Rotil's face relaxed in a grin. "That is clever, a trick and no harm in it, but--have a care toyourself! It is easy to be too clever, and on a trail of war no onehas time to learn if tricks are of harm or not. Take the warning of afriend, Capitan Rhodes!" "You have the right of it, General. I have much to learn, " agreed Kit. "But no man goes abroad to shout the crimes he is accused of athome, --and the story of this one is very new to me. This morning Ilearned I was thought guilty, and tonight I learn who is the criminal, and how the job was done. This is quick work, and I owe the luck of itto you. " "May the good luck hold!" said Rotil. "And see that the men leave youalone as the guard of Perez. I want no listeners there. " CHAPTER XVII THE STORY OF DOŅA JOCASTA Ramon Rotil stood a long minute after the clank of chains ceased alongthe corridor; then he bolted the outer door of the chapel, and aftercasting a grim satisfied smile at the screen of the faded canvas, heopened the door of the _sala_ and went in. Valencia was kneeling beside Doņa Jocasta and forcing brandy betweenthe white lips, while Elena bustled around the padre whose head shehad been bathing. A basin of water, ruby red, was evidence of the factthat Padre Andreas was not in immediate need of the services of aleech. He sat with his bandaged head held in his hands, and shrankperceptibly when the general entered the room. Doņa Jocasta swallowed some of the brandy, half strangled over it, andsat up, gasping and white. It was Tula who offered her a cup of water, while Valencia, with fervent expressions of gratitude to the saints, got to her feet, eyeing Rotil with a look of fear. After the woundedpriest and the fainting Jocasta emerged from the chapel door, the twowomen were filled with terror of the controlling spirit there. He halted on the threshold, his eyes roving from face to face, including Tula, who stood, back against the wall, regarding him asusual with much admiration. One thing more he must know. "Go you without, " he said with a gesture towards the two women and thepriest. "I will speak with this lady alone. " They all moved to the door, and after a moment of hesitation Tula wasabout to follow when he stopped her. "You stay, girl. The Doņa Jocasta may want a maid, but take yourselfover there. " So Tula slipped silently back into the niche of the window seat wherethe shadows were deepest, and Rotil moved towards the center tabledragging a chair. On the other side of the table was the couch onwhich Jocasta sat, white and startled at the dismissal of the womanand priest. "Be composed, " he said gentling his tone as one would to soothe achild. "There are some things to be said between us here, and too manyears are of no advantage. " She did not reply; only inclined her head slightly and drew herselfupright against the wall, gathering the lace _rebosa_ across her bosomwhere Valencia had unfastened her garments and forgotten them in herfear. "First is the matter of my debt to you. Do you know in your own mindhow great that is?" "I--count it as nothing, seņor, " she murmured. "That is because you do not know the great need, and have not madecount of the cases of rifles and ammunition. " "It is true, I never looked at them. Juan Gonsalvo in dying blamedJosé Perez for the shot. It was fired by another hand, --but God aloneknows! So Juan sent for me, and José never knew. The secret of Soledadwas given to me then, but I never thought to use it, until----" She ceased, shuddering, and he knew she was thinking of theblood-stained priest whirled into her presence. Fallen though thestate of the priesthood might be in Mexico, there were yet women ofJocasta's training to whom an assault on the clergy was little lessthan a mortal sin. He knew that, and smiled grimly at the remembranceof her own priestly father who had refused her in honest marriage to aman of her mother's class, and was busily engaged haggling over thegift price of her with José Perez when death caught him. Thebewildered girl was swept to the estate of Perez without eithermarriage or gift, unless one choose to consider as gift the shelterand food given to a younger sister and brother. All this went through his mind as she shrank and sighed because he hadtossed a priest from his way with as slight regard as he would thepoorest peon. She did not even know how surely the destiny of hermother and her own destiny had been formed by a priest's craft. Shewould never know, because her mind would refuse to accept it. Therewere thousands like her because of their shadowed inheritance. Revolution for the men grew out of that bondage of women, and Rotilhad isolated moments when he dreamed of a vast and blessed freedom ofthe land--schools, and schools, and more schools until knowledge wouldbelong to the people instead of to the priests! But he knew it was no use to tell thoughts like that to women; theywere afraid to let go their little wooden saints and the jargon ofprayers they did not understand. The mystery of it held them! Thus brooded Rotil, unlearned driver of burros and general of an armyof the people! "We will forget all but the ammunition, " he said. "It is as food to mymen, and some of them are starving there to the east; with ammunitionfood can be commandeered. I knew the guns were on Soledad land, buteven a golden dream of angels would not have let me hope for as muchas you have given me. It is packed, --that room, from floor to rooftiles. In the morning I take the trail, and there is much to be donebefore I go. You;--I must think of first. Will you let me be yourconfessor, and tell me any wish of your heart I may help you to?" "My heart has no wish left alive in it, " she said. "There have beendays when I had wish for the hut under the palms where my motherlived. A childish wish, --but other wishes are dead!" "There is no going back, " he said, staring at the tiles, and notlooking at her. "It is of future things we must think. He saidthings--Perez did, and you----" "Yes!" she half whispered. "There is no way but to tell of it, but--Iwould ask that the child wait outside. The story is not a story for agirl child, Ramon. " He motioned to Tula. "Outside the door, but in call, " he said, and without a word or lookTula went softly out. There was silence for a bit between them, her hands were clasped atfull length, and she leaned forward painfully tense, looking not athim, but past him. "It is not easy, but you will comprehend better than many, " she saidat last. "There were three of us. There was my little brother Palemon, who ran away last year to be a soldier--he was only fourteen. Joséwould not let me send searchers for him, and he may be dead. Thenthere was only--only Lucita and me. You maybe remember Lucita?" Her question was wistful as if it would help her to even know heremembered. He nodded his head in affirmation. "A golden child, " he said. "I have seen pictured saints and angels ingreat churches since the days in the hills, but never once so fair achild as little Lucita. " "Yes, white and gold, and an angel of innocence, " she said musingly. "Always she was that, always! And there was a sweetheart, MarianoAvila, a good lad, and the wedding was to be. She was embroidering thewedding shirt for Mariano when--God! God!" She got up suddenly and paced the floor, her arms hugging hershoulders tight as if to keep from sobbing. He rose and stoodwatching, but uttered no word. After a little she returned to the couch, and began to speak in a moreeven tone. "There is so much to tell. Much happened. Conrad was driving José todo many things not at first in their plans. Also there was moredrinking, --much more! It was Conrad made plans for the slave raids. Heno longer asked José's permission for anything; he gave command to themen and José had to listen. Only one secret thing was yet hidden fromhim, the hiding place of the guns from the north. José said if thatwas uncovered he might as well give up his ranchos. In his heart hecould not trust Conrad. Each had a watch set on the other! Juan gothis death because he made rendezvous with the German. "That is how it was when the slave raid was made north of here, andthe most beautiful Indian girl killed herself somewhere in this desertwhen there was no other way to escape the man;--the scar on the faceof Conrad was from her knife. It was a bad cut, and after that therewas trouble, and much drink and mad quarrels. Also it was that timeJuan Gonsalvo was shot and died from it. Juana, his sister, came insecret for me while he could yet speak, and that was when----" She halted, closing her eyes as if to shut out some horror. He thoughtshe shrank from remembrance of how the secret of Soledad was given toher, for Juan must have been practically a dead man when he gave itup. After a moment she went on in the sad tone of the utterlyhopeless. "I speak of the mad quarrels of those two men, Ramon, but it was neverof that I had fear. The fear came each time the quarrel was done, andthey again swore to be friends, for in the new 'friend hours' ofdrinking, strange things happened, strange wagers and strange gifts. " Again she paused, and this time she lifted her eyes to Rotil. "Always I hated the German. I never carried a blade until afterhis eyes followed me! He tried to play the prince, the greatgentleman, with me--a girl of the hills! Only once he touched myhand, and I scoured it with sand afterwards while José laughed. Butthe German did not laugh, --he only watched me! Once when José wasin a rage with me Conrad said he could make of me a great lady in hisown land if I would listen. Instead of listening I showed him myknife. After that God only knows what he told against me, but Josébecame bitter--bitter, and jealous, and spies always at my back! "So Lucita and Mariano and I made plans. They were to marry, and wethree would steal away in secret and cross the border. That washappiness to plan, for my life--my life was hell, so I thought! But Ihad not yet learned what hell could be, " she confessed drearily. "Tell me, " he said very gently. Those who thought they knew "ElGavilan, " the merciless, would not have recognized his voice at thatmoment. "No, I had not learned, " she went on drearily. "I thought that tocarry a knife for myself made all safe--I did not know! I told youJuana Gonsalvo came for me very secretly to hear the last words ofJuan. But I did not tell you we lived in the _casita_, little Lucitaand I. It is across a garden from the hacienda, and was once apriest's house; that was in the days of the mother of José. It is verysweet there under the rose vines, and it was sanctuary for us. WhenJosé and the German had their nights of carouse we went there andlocked ourselves in. There were iron bars on the high windows, andshutters of wood inside, so we were never afraid. I heard Conrad tellJosé he was a fool not to blow it up with dynamite some day of fiesta. It was the night after their great quarrel, and it was a terribletime. They were pledging friendship once more in much wine. Officersfrom the town were at the hacienda with women who were--well, I wouldnot go in, and José was wild. He came to the _casita_ and calledthreats at me. I thought the German was with him, for he said Conradwas right, and the house would be blown up with the first dynamite hecould spare, --but threats were no new thing to us! I tried to soothelittle Lucita by talk of the wedding, and all the pretty bride thingswere taken out of the chest and spread on the bed; one _rebosa_ ofwhite I put over her shoulders, and the child was dancing to show meshe was no longer afraid----! "That was when Juana came to the window. I knew her voice and openedthe door. I did not want Lucita frightened again, so I did not let herknow a man was dying--only that a sick person wanted me for alittle--little minute, and I would be back. "I knew Juan Gonsalvo had been killed because he had been trusted farenough, --I knew it! That thought struck me very hard, for I--I mightbe the next, and I wanted first to send those two children happily outof reach of sorrow. Strange it is that because she was first, the veryfirst in my heart, I went out that door in the night and for the firsttime left her alone! But that is how it was; we had to be soquick--and so silent--and it was her hand closed the door after us, her hand on the bolt! "Juan Gonsalvo had only fought for life until he could see me, andthen the breath went. No one but I heard his whispers of the door ofthe picture here in Soledad. He told me his death was murder, and hislast word was against Perez. It was only minutes, little minutes Iwas there, and the way was not far, but when I went back through thegarden the door of the _casita_ stood wide and light streamed out! Ido not know how I was sure it was empty, but I was, and I seemed to godead inside, though I started to run. "To cross that garden was like struggling in a dream with bands aboutmy feet. I wake with that dream many nights--many!--I heard her beforeI could reach the path. Her screams were not in the _casita_, but inthe hacienda. They were--they were--terrible! I tried to go--and thenI knew she had broken away--I could see her like a white spirit flyback towards the light in the open door. The man following her trippedin some way and fell, and I leaped over him to follow her. We gotinside and drew the bolt. "Then--But there are things not to be told--they belong to the dead! "Perez came there to the door and made demands for Conrad'swoman, --that is how he said it! He said she had gone to Conrad'sapartment of her own will and must go back. Lucita knelt at my feet inher torn bridal garment and told how a woman had come as Juana hadcome, and said that I wanted her. The child had no doubt, shefollowed, and--and it was indeed to that drunken beast they took her! "José was also drunk, crazy drunk. He told me to stand away from thatdoor for they were coming in, also that he had made gift of Lucita tohis friend, and she must be given up. Then they began to fire guns inthe lock! It seemed a long, long time she held to me there and beggedme to save her, but it could not have been. . . . The lock gave way, andonly the bolt held. I clasped her close to me and whispered tellingher to pray, but I never took my eyes off the door. When I saw itshaking, I made the sign of the cross over her, and the knife I hadcarried for myself found her heart quickly! That is how I took on methe shadow of murder, and that is why the priest threatens me with thefires of hell if I do not repent--and I am not repenting, Ramon. " "By God, no!" he muttered, staring into her defiant eyes. "That was afine thing, and your mother gave good blood to her children, Jocasta. And then----?" "I laid her on the bed among her bridal laces, all white--white! Overher breast I folded her still hands, and set a candle at her head, though I dared not pray! The door was giving way. "I pushed back the bolt, also I spoke, but it did not seem me! That isstrange, but of a truth I did not know the voice I heard say: 'Enter, her body is yours--and she no longer flees from you. ' "'Ha! That is good sense at last!' said José, and Conrad laughed andpraised himself as a lover. "'I told you so!' he grunted. 'The little dear one knows that a nicewhite German is not so bad!' "And again I heard the voice strange to me say, 'She knows nothing, José--and she knows all!' "José stumbled in smiling, but Conrad, though drunk, stopped at thedoor when he saw my hand with the knife. I thought my skirt covered itas I waited for him--for the child had told me enough--I--I failed, Ramon! His oath was a curious choked scream as I tried to reach him. I do not know if it was the knife, or the dead girl on the bed madehim scream like that, but I knew then the German was at heart acoward. "José was too strong for me, and the knife could not do its work. Iwas struck, and my head muffled in a _serape_. After that I knewnothing. "Days and nights went by in a locked room. I never got out of it untilI was chained hand and foot and sent north in a peon's ox-cart. Menguarded me until Marto with other men waited for me on the trail. JoséPerez could have had me killed, yes. Or he could have had me beforethe judges for murder, but silence was the thing he most wanted--forthere is Doņa Dolores Terain yet to be won. He has sent me north thatthe General Terain, her father, will think me out of his life. One ofthe guards told an alcalde I was his wife, he was sure that storywould be repeated back to Hermosillo! These are days in Sonora when noone troubles about one woman or one child who is out of sight, and wemay be sure he and Conrad had a well-made story to tell. He knows itis now all over with me, that I have a hate of which he is afraid, sohe does not have me shot;--he only sends me to Soledad in thewilderness where fighting bands of the revolution cross all trails, and his men have orders that I am not to go out of the desert alive. " "I see!" said Rotil thoughtfully, "and--it is all gone now--the loveof him?" "All the love in the world is gone, amigo, " she said, looking awayfrom him through the barred window where the night sky was growingbright from the rising moon. "I was a child enchanted by the glory ofthe world and his love words. Out of all that false glitter of life Ihave walked, a blackened soul with a murderer's hand. How could lovebe again with me?" He looked at her steadily, the slender thing of creamy skin andMadonna eyes that had been the Dream of Youth to him, the one devoteeat an altar in whom he had believed--nothing in the humanity of theworld would ever have faith of his again! "That is so, Jocasta, " he said at last, "you are a woman, and in theshadow. The little golden singing one is gone out of your life, andthe new music must be different! I will think about that for you. Gonow to your sleep, for there is work of men to be done, and the nightscarce long enough for it. " He opened the door for her and stood with bent head as she passed. Hismen lounging in the patio could see that manner of deference, andexchanged looks and comments. To the victor belong the spoils inMexico, and here was a sweeping victory, --yet the general looked theother way! "Child, accompany the seņora, " he said kindly to Tula at the door. "Chappo, bring Marto to see me. The new American capitan said he was aman of value, and the lad was right. Work of importance waits for himtonight. " CHAPTER XVIII RAMON ROTIL DECIDES Whatever the labors of Marto Cavayso for the night they appeared tohave been happy ones, for ere the dawn he came to Kit's door in greatgood humor. "Amigo, " he said jovially, "you played me a trick and took the woman, but what the devil is that to hold a grudge for? My general has madeit all right, and we need help. You are to come. " "Glad to, " agreed Kit, "but what of this guard duty?" "Lock the door--there is but one key. Also the other men are notsleeping inside the portal. It is by order of General Rotil. " Perez awoke to glare at his false major-domo, but uttered no words. Hehad not even attempted conversation with Kit since the evening beforewhen he stated that no Americano could fool him, and added hisconviction that the said Americano was a secret service man of thestates after the guns, and that Rotil was a fool! Kit found Rotil resting in the chapel, looking fagged and spent. "Marto is hell for work, and I had to stay by, " he grumbled with agrin. "Almost I sent for you. No other man knows, and behold!" Stacked on either side were packing cases of rifles and ammunition, dozens and dozens of them. The dusty canvas was back in its place andno sign to indicate where the cases had come from. "It is a great treasure chest, that, " stated Rotil, "and we have hereas much as the mules can carry, for the wagons can't go with us. But Iwant every case of this outside the portal before dawn comes, and itcomes quick! It means work and there are only three of us, and thislimp of mine's a trouble. " "Well, " said Kit, stripping off his coat, "if the two of you got themup a ladder inside, and down the steps to this point I reckon three ofus can get them across that little level on record time. Say, yourcrew will think it magic when guns and ammunition are let fall for youby angels outside of the gate. " "The thought will do no harm, " said Rotil. "Also I am not sure butthat you speak true, and the magic was much needed when it came. " They worked fast, and ere the first hint of dawn the cases werestacked in imposing array on the plaza. And no sign by which theycould be traced. Rotil looked at them, and chuckled at the wonder themen would feel. "It is time they were called, for it is a long trail, go you, Capitan, and waken them, tell them to get ready the pack mules and get amove. " "All right, but if they ask questions?" "Look wise and say nothing! When they see the cases they will thinkyou either the devil or San Antonio to find what was lost in thedesert. It is a favor I am doing you, seņor. " "Sure you are! If the Indians ever get the idea that I can win gunsfrom out the air by hokus-pokus, I will be a big medicine chief, andwax fat under honors in Sonora. Head me to them!" Rotil had seen to it that though sentinels stood guard at Soledad, none were near enough the plaza to interfere with work of the night, and Kit found their main camp down by the _acquia_ a quarter of a mileaway. He gave orders as directed for the pack animals and cook wagonover which a son of the Orient presided. That stolid genius wasalready slicing deer meat for broiling, and making coffee, of which hedonated a bowl to Kit, also a cart wheel of a _tortilla_ dipped ingravy. Both were joyously accepted, and after seeing that the men werearoused from the blankets, he returned to the hacienda full ofconjecture as to the developments to be anticipated from the night'swork. That reserve stock of ammunition might mean salvation to therevolutionists. Rain had fallen somewhere to the east in the night time, and as thestars faded there were lines of palest silver and palest gold in thegrays of dawn on the mountains. As he walked leisurely up the slightnatural terrace to the plaza, he halted a moment and laughed aloudboyishly at a discovery of his, for he had solved the century-oldriddle of the view of El Alisal seen from the "portal" of Soledad. Theportal was not anyone of the visible doors or gateways of the oldmission, it was the hidden portal of the picture, --once leading to alittle balcony under which the neophytes had gathered for the morningblessing and daily commands of their superiors! That explained its height from the floor. The door had at some laterperiod been sealed, and a room built against it from the side towardsthe mountain. In the building of the ranch house that old strongwalled section of the mission had been incorporated as the privatechapel of some pious ranchero. It was also very, very simple after oneknew of that high portal masked by the picture, and after one tracedthe line of vision from the outside and realized all that was hiddenby the old harness room and the fragmentary old walls about it. Hechuckled to think of how he would astonish Cap Pike with the storywhen he got back. He also recalled that Conrad had unburdened hisheart to him with completeness because he was so confident an Americannever _could_ get back! He was speculating on that ever-present problem when he noted thatlight shone yellow in the dawn from the plaza windows, and on enteringthe patio it took but a glance to see that some new thing was afoot. Padre Andreas, with his head upholstered in strips of the table linen, was pacing the patio reciting in a murmuring undertone, some prayerfrom a small open volume, though there was not yet light enough toread. Valencia was bustling into the room of Doņa Jocasta with an ollaof warm water, while Tula bore a copper tray with fruit and coffee. "This is of a quickness, but who dare say it is not an act for theblessing of God?" the padre said replying in an absent-minded mannerto the greeting of Kit. "True, Padre, who can say?" agreed the latter politely, without theslightest idea of what was meant. But Marto, who fairly radiated happiness since his reinstatement, approached with the word that General Rotil would have him atbreakfast, for which time was short. "It is my regret that you do not ride with me, seņor, " said Rotil ashe motioned him to a seat. "But there is work to be done at Soledadfor which I shall give you the word. I am hearing that you would helprecover some of the poor ones driven south from Palomitas, if they beleft alive!" "I am pledged to that, General, " stated Kit simply. "Who has your pledge?" "A dead man who cannot free me from it. " "By God!" remarked Rotil in a surprised tone. "By God, Don Pajarito, that is good! And it may be when that pledge is kept, you may be freeto join my children in the fight? I make you a capitan at once, seņor. " "Perhaps, after----" "Sure, --after, " agreed Rotil chuckling. "For I tell you there is workof importance here, and when I am gone the thinking will be up to you!What message did you give the muleteers?" "To bring the animals to the plaza, and pack for the trail all theprovisions found there. " "Provisions is good! They will burn with curiosity. There could be funin that if we had time to laugh and watch them, but there is no time. Marto!" Marto, on guard at the door, came forward. "Has the Seņor Don José Perez received my message for conference?" "Yes, my General. Except that he wished your messenger in hell, hewill be happy to join you according to order. " "Good!" grinned Rotil, "it is well to conduct these matters with graceand ceremony where a lady is concerned. Take him to the _sala_; it isilluminated in his honor. Come, seņor, I want for witness an Americanowho is free from Sonora influence. " "Am I?" queried Kit dubiously. "I'm not so sure! I seem all tangled upwith Sonora influences of all shades and varieties. " Rotil's jocularity disappeared as he entered the sala where quill penand ink and some blank sheets from an old account book gave abusiness-like look to the table where four candles made a radiance. Perez was there, plainly nervous by reason of the mocking civility ofMarto. His eyes followed Rotil, --questioning, fearful! The latter passed him without notice and seated himself at the table. "Call the padre, " he said to Marto. But that was scarce needed as thepadre was hovering near the door waiting for the word. He seatedhimself by the table at a motion from Rotil. The latter turned for the first time to Perez, and bestowed on him along, curious look. "They tell me, seņor, that you were about to take as bride a lovelylady?" Perez frowned in perplexity. Evidently this was the last subject hehad expected to hear touched upon. "Perhaps so, " he said at last, "but if this is a question of ransom wewill not trouble the lady. I will arrange your figures for that. " "This is not a matter of figures, Seņor Perez. It is a marriage we areinterested in, and it is all well arranged for you. The padre herewill draw up the contract of marriage in the old form; it is betterthan the manner of today. You will give him your name, the names ofyour parents, the name of your parish and abode. " "I will see you damned first!" "And, Padre, " continued Rotil, giving no heed to that heartfeltremark, "use less than one-third of the page, for there must be spacefor the record of the bride, and below that the contract between thehappy two with all witnesses added. " "If you think--" began Perez furiously. "I do not think; I know, seņor! Later you also will know, " Rotilpromised with grim certainty. "This marriage is of interest to me, andhas been too long delayed. It is now for you to say if you will be abridegroom in chains, or if it please you to have the irons off. " "This cannot be! I tell you a marriage is not legal if----" "Oh, seņor! Your experience is less than I thought, " interruptedRotil, "and you are much mistaken, --much! We are all witnesses here. Seņor Rhodes will be pleased to unfasten those heavy chains to obligethe lady. The chains might not be a pleasant memory to her. Women havecurious prejudices about such things! But it must be understood thatyou stand quiet for the ceremony. If not, this gun of mine will manageit that you stay quiet forever. " Perez stood up, baffled and beaten, but threatening. "Take them off, you!" he snarled, "though it is a hell of aransom, --and that woman will pay. Let no one forget that her pay willbe heavy!" "That paying is for afterwards!" decided Rotil airily, "but here andnow we men would see a wedding before we leave Soledad. CapitanRhodes, will you bring in Doņa Jocasta?" Kit, in some wonder, went on the errand, and found the women eager todeck her with blossoms and give some joyous note to the wedding of thedawn, but she sat cold and white with the flowers of the desertspringtime about her, and forbade them. "He terrifies me much in sending that word to wake me with thismorning, " she protested. "I tell you I will kill myself before I liveone more day of life with José Perez! I told him all my heart in the_sala_ last night, and it means not anything to Ramon Rotil;--he wouldtie me in slavery to that man I hate!" "Seņora, I do not know what the general means, but I know it is notthat. His work is for your service, even though appearance isotherwise. " "You think that?" "I almost know it. " "Then I go, " she decided. "I think I would have to go anyway, but theheart would be more heavy, _Santa Maria_!--but this place of Soledadis strange in its ways. " It was the first time he had seen her frightened, but her mouthtrembled, and her eyes sought the floor. He reached out and took her hand; it was terribly cold. "Courage, and trust Rotil, " he said reassuringly. "When you sift outthe whole situation that is about all left to any of us here in thedesert. " He led her along the corridor, the women following. Men with packanimals were gathering in wonder around the cases in the plaza, andthrough the portal they saw the impromptu bridal procession, and fellsilent. The Americano appeared to have a hand in every game, --and thatwas a matter of wonder. As they entered, Padre Andreas was reading aloud the brief history ofJocasta Benicia Sandoval, eldest daughter of Teresa Sandoval andIgnatius Sanchez of Santa Ysobel in the Sierras. Padre Andreas hadbalked at writing the paternity of children of Teresa Sandoval, but arevolver in Rotil's hand was the final persuader. "This is to be all an honest record for which there are witnesses inplenty, " he stated. "Teresa Sandoval had only one lover, --even thoughPadre Ignatius Sanchez did call her daughters nieces of his! But themarriage record of Seņora Jocasta Sandoval shall have only truth. "Jocasta wrote her name to the statement as directed, and noted thatJosé had already signed. She did not look at him, but moved nearer to Rotil and kept her eyeson the table. He noted her shrinking and turned to the priest. "Seņor, " he said, "these two people will write their names together onthe contract, but this is a marriage without kisses or clasping ofhands. It is a civil contract bound by word of mouth, and writtenpromise, under witness of the church. Read the service. " There was a slight hesitation on the part of Perez when asked if hewould take Jocasta Sandoval as wife, but the gun of Rotil hastened hisdecision, and his voice was defiantly loud. Jocasta followed quietly, and then in a benediction which was emptiest mockery, José Perez andJocasta Sandoval were pronounced man and wife. "May I now go?" she murmured, but the contract was signed by allpresent before Rotil nodded to Kit. "You will have the honor of conducting the Doņa Jocasta Perez tobreakfast, " he said. "The rest of us have other business here. Seņora, will you do us the favor to outline to this gentleman the specialtasks you would like attention given at once. There are some Indianslaves in the south for whom the Palomitas people ask help. You arenow in a position to be of service there, and it would be a good actwith which to establish a new rule at Soledad. " "Thanks, General Rotil, " she answered, rather bewildered by theswiftness with which he turned over to her the duties devolving uponher newly acquired position. "I am not wise in law, but what I can Iwill do. " "And that will be nothing!" volunteered Perez. "A woman of my namewill not make herself common in the markets or law courts, --to haveher Indian ancestry cast in my teeth!" "As to that, " said Rotil humorously, "there is not so much! The fatherof Teresa Sandoval was the priestly son of a marquise of Spain! onlyone drop of Indian to three of the church in the veins of SeņoraPerez, so you perceive she has done honor to your house. You willleave your name in good hands when God calls you to judgment. " Kit noted the sudden tension of Perez at the last sentence, and a lookof furtive, fearful questioning in his eyes as he looked at Rotil, whowas folding the marriage contract carefully, wrapping it in a sheetof paper for lack of an envelope. But, as squire of dames, Kit was too much occupied to give furtherheed to business in the _sala_. Doņa Jocasta expressed silently adesire to get away from there as soon as might be; she looked whiteand worn, and cast at Rotil a frightened imploring glance as she clungto Kit's arm. He thought he would have to carry her before theycrossed the patio. "When Ramon laughs like that--" she began and then went silent, shuddering. Kit, remembering the look in the eyes of Perez, did notcare to ask questions. The older women went back to the kitchen to finish breakfast andgossip over the amazing morning, but Tula remained near DoņaJocasta, --seeing all and her ears ever open. Padre Andreas followed, under orders from Rotil, who told him to doany writing required of him by the Seņora Perez, and arrange for safecouriers south when she had messages ready. His knowledge of villagesand rancheros was more dependable than that of the vaqueros; he wouldknow the names of safe men. Doņa Jocasta sighed, and looked from one to the other appealingly. "It is much, very much to plan for before the sun is showing, " shemurmured. "Is there not some little time to think and consider?" "Even now the men of Ramon Rotil are packing the beasts for thetrail, " said the priest, "and he wants all your plans and desiresstated before he goes east. " "_My_ desires!" and her smile held bitterness as she turned to Kit. "You, seņor, have never seen the extent of the Perez holdings inSonora. They are so vast that one simple woman like me would be lostin any plans of change there. José Perez meant what he said;--no womancan take control while he lives. " "Still, there are some things a woman could do best, " ventured Kit, "the things of mercy;" and he mentioned the Palomitas slaves---- "That is true. Also I am in debt for much friendship, and this childof Palomitas must have the thing she asks. Tell me the best way. " "Learn from Perez which ranch of General Estaban Terain shelters thepolitical prisoners taken from the district of Altar, " suggested Kit. "Either Perez or Conrad can tell. " Doņa Jocasta looked at the priest. "José Perez will hate you for this marriage, and we must seek safetyfor you in some other place, " she said kindly, "but you are the onemost able to learn this thing. Will it please you to try?" Padre Andreas went out without a word. In his heart he resented themanner of the marriage ceremony, and scarce hoped Perez would beacquiescent or disposed to further converse, and he personally had noinclination to ask help of the General Rotil. He was surprised as he crossed the patio to see Perez, still free fromchains, walking through the portal to the plaza with Marto Cavaysobeside him. He was led past the ammunition cases, and the men in theirjubilant work of packing the mules. Far out up the valley to the northa cloud of dust caught the red glow of sunrise, and the priest knewthe vaqueros with the Soledad cattle were already on the trail for themain body of revolutionists in the field. Saddle horses were held a little apart in the plaza, and Padre Andreashastened his steps lest they mount and be gone, but Marto spoke to himsharply. "Walk in front to do your talking, " he suggested. "This gentleman isnot inviting company for his _pasear_. " José Perez turned a startled, piercing look on the priest. "Did Rotil send you?" he demanded. "No, seņor, I came back to ask a simple thing concerning the Altarpeople who went south for Yucatan. Can you give me the name of theranch where they are held?" "I can, --but I give nothing for nothing!" he said bitterly. "Already Iam caught in a trap by that marriage, and I will see that thearchbishop hears of your share in it. Nothing for nothing!" "Yet there may be some service I can give, or send south, for you, "said the priest. Perez regarded him doubtfully. "Yes--you might get a message to General Terain that I am a prisoner, on my own estate--if Rotil does not have you killed on the road!" "I could try, " agreed the priest. "I--I might secure permission. " "Permission?" "It is true, seņor. I could not attempt it without the word of GeneralRotil, " announced Padre Andreas. "Of what use to risk the life of acourier for no purpose? But I make a bargain: if you will tell whichranch the Altar Indians were driven to I will undertake to get wordfor you to a friend. Of course I can get the information from theGerman if you say no. " "Damn the German!" swore Perez. "Good Father, " said Marto, "you halt us on the way to join theadvance, and we have no mind to take all the dust of the mule train. Make your talk of fewer words. " "Shall I go to the German?" repeated the priest. "No, --let him rot alone! The plantation is Linda Vista, and Conradlied to General Terain to get them housed there. He thought they wererebels who raided ranches in Altar, --political prisoners. Take GeneralTerain word that I am a prisoner of the revolutionists, and----" "Seņor, the sun is too high for idle talk, " said Marto briefly, "andyour saddle waits. " The priest held the stirrup for José Perez, who took the courtesy as amatter of course, turning in the saddle and casting a bitter look atthe sun-flooded walls of Soledad. "To marry a mistress and set her up as the love of another lover--_two_other lovers!--is not the game of a man, " he growled moodily. "If it wasto do over, I----" "Take other thoughts with you, " said Padre Andreas sadly, "and my son, go with God!" He lifted his hand in blessing, and stood thus after they had turnedaway. Perez uttered neither thanks nor farewell. The men, busy with the final packing, stared after him with muchcuriosity, and accosted the priest as he paced thoughtfully back tothe portal. "Padre, is this ammunition a gift of Don José, or is it magic from theold monks who hid the red gold of El Alisal and come back here toguard it and haunt Soledad?" inquired one of the boldest. "There are no hauntings, and that red gold has led enough men astrayin the desert. It is best forgotten. " "But strange things do come about, " insisted another man. "MartoCavayso swore he had witchcraft put on him by the green, jewel eyes ofDoņa Jocasta, and you see that since she follows our general he hasthe good luck, and this ammunition comes to him from God knowswhere!" "It may be the Americano knows, " hazarded the first speaker. "He tookher from Marto, and rides ever beside her. Who proves which is theenchanter?" "It is ill work to put the name of 'enchantment' against any mortal, "chided the priest. "That may be, " conceded the soldier, "but we have had speech of thisthing, and look you!--Doņa Jocasta rode in chains until the Americanocrossed her trail, and Don Ramon, and all of us, searched in vain forthe American guns, until the Americano rode to Soledad! Enchantment ornot, he has luck for his friends!" "As you please!" conceded the priest with more indifference than hefelt. The Americano certainly did not belong to Soledad, and thewonder was that Ramon Rotil gave him charge of so beauteous a lady. Padre Andreas could easily perceive how the followers of Rotil thoughtit enchantment, or any other thing of the devil. Instinctively he disapproved of Rhodes' position in the group; hiscare-free, happy smile ill fitted the situation at Soledad. Before thestealing away of Doņa Jocasta she had been as a dead woman who walked;her sense of overwhelming sin was gratifying in that it gave everyhope of leading to repentance, but on her return the manner of herbehavior was different. She rode like a queen, and even the marriagewas accepted as a justice! Padre Andreas secretly credited the hereticAmericano with the change, and Mexican girls put no such dependence ona man outside of her own family, --unless that man was a lover! He saw his own influence set aside by the stranger and the rebelleader, and with Doņa Jocasta as a firebrand he feared dread and awfulthings now that Rotil had given her power. He found her with bright eyes and a faint flush in her cheeks over theletter Kit was writing to the south. It was her first act as the wifeof José Perez, and it was being written to the girl whom Perez hadhoped to marry! Kit got considerable joy in framing her request as follows: To Seņorita Dolores Terain, Linda Vista Rancho, Sonora, HONORED SEŅORITA: As a woman who desires to secure justice and mercy for some poor peons of our district of Altar, I venture to address you, to whom womanly compassion must belong as does beauty and graciousness. This is a work for the charity of women, rather than debates in law courts by men. I send with this the names of those poor people who were herded south for slavery by Adolf Conrad, a German who calls himself American. To your father, the illustrious General Terain, this man Conrad represented these poor people as rebels and raiders of this region. It is not true. They were simple peaceful workers on little ranches. They were given shelter at your rancho of Linda Vista to work for their food until they could be deported, but I send with this a payment of gold with which to repay any care they have been, or any debts incurred. If it is not enough, I pledge myself to the amount you will regard as justice. Dear Seņorita, my husband, Don José, warns me that women cannot manage such affairs, but we can at least try. Parents wait here for sons and daughters, and little children wait for their parents. Will you aid in the Christian task of bringing them together quickly? At your service with all respect, JOCASTA BENICIA PEREZ, Soledad Rancho, Sonora. "But you write here of gold sent by messenger, seņor!--I have no gold, only words can I send, " protested Doņa Jocasta helplessly. "Ah, but the words are more precious than all, " Kit assured her. "Itis the right word we have waited for, and you alone could give it, seņora. These people have held the gold ransom while waiting thatword, and this child can bring it when the time is right. " Doņa Jocasta regarded Tula doubtfully; she certainly gave noappearance of holding wealth to redeem a pueblo. "You, --the little one to whom even the Deliverer listens?" she saidkindly. "But the wealth of a little Indian ranch would not seem richesto this illustrious lady, the Doņa Dolores Terain. " "Yet will I bring riches to her or to you, Excellencia, if only mymother and my sister are coming again to Palomitas, " said Tulaearnestly. "But whence comes wealth to you in a land where there is no longerwealth for anyone?" Kit listened with little liking for the conversation after the padreentered. It was a direct question, and to be answered with directness, and he watched Tula anxiously lest she say the wrong thing. But shetold the straight truth in a way to admit of no question. "Long ago my father got gold for sacred prayer reasons; he hid ituntil he was old; when he died he made gift of it to me that my motherand sister buy freedom. That is all, Excellencia, but the gold is goodgold. " She slipped her hand under her skirt and unfastened the leatherstrings of the burro-skin belt, --it fell heavily on the tile floor. She untied the end of it and poured a handful on the table. "You see, seņora, there is riches enough to go with your words, butnever enough to pay for them. " "_Santa Maria!_" cried the amazed priest. "That is _red_ gold! In whatplace was it found?" Tula laid her hand over the nuggets and faced him. "That secret was the secret of Miguel who is dead. " "But--some old Indian must know----" Tula shook her head with absolute finality. "No old Indian in all the world knows that!" she said. "This was asecret of the youth of Miguel, and only when old and dying did hegive it for his people. This I, --Tula, child of Miguel tell you. " Padre Andreas looked from the girl to Kit and back again, knowing thatthe death of Miguel was a recent thing since it had occurred after thestealing of the women. "Where did your father die?" he asked. "In the hills of the desert. " "And--who had absolving and burial of him?" "Absolving I do not know, but this man, his friend, had the making ofthe grave, " she said, indicating Kit, and the eyes of the priestrested again on Kit with a most curious searching regard. Evidentlyeven this little Indian stray of the desert arrived at good fortuneunder the friendship of the American stranger, --and it was anotheradded to the list of enchantings! "Ah, " he murmured meaningly, "then this strange seņor also has theknowing of this Indian gold? Is it truly gold of the earth, orwitches' gold of red clay?" and he went nearer, reaching his hand totouch it. "Why all this question when the child offers it for a good Christianuse?" demanded Doņa Jocasta. "See, here is a piece of it heavy enoughto weigh down many lumps of clay, and north or south it will provewelcome ransom. It is a miracle sent by the saints at this time. " "Would the saints send the red gold of El Alisal to a heretic insteadof a son of the church?" he asked. "And this is that gold for whichthe padres of Soledad paid with their lives long ago. There was neversuch red gold found in Sonora as that, and the church had its ownclaim on it;--it is mission gold!" "No, not now, " said Tula, addressing Doņa Jocasta, --"truly not now!They claimed it long ago, but the holding of it was a thing not forthem. Fire came out of the clouds to kill them there, and no one sawthem alive anymore, and no other priest ever found the gold. This muchis found by Miguel, for a dead man's promise!" "The girl speaks straight, seņora, " ventured Kit. "I have already toldGeneral Rotil of the promise, but no good will come of much talk overthe quality of gold for that ransom. To carry that message south andbring back the women is a task for council, but outside these walls, no tongue must speak of the gold, else there would be no safety forthis maid. " "Yet a priest may ask how an Americano comes far from his home toguard gold and a maid in Sonora?" retorted Padre Andreas. "Strangeaffairs move these days in Altar--guns, ammunition, and the gold ofdead men! In all these things you have a say, seņor, yet you are butyoung in years, and----" "Padre, " interrupted Doņa Jocasta with a note of command, "he was oldenough to save this child from starvation in the desert, and he wasold enough to save me when even you could no longer save me, so whyobject because he has guarded wealth, and means to use it in a way ofmercy? Heretic he may be, but he has the trust of Ramon Rotil, and ofme. Also it is forbidden to mention this belt or what it covers. Ihave given my word, and this is no time to halt the task we have set. It would better serve those lost people if you help us find amessenger who is safe. " It was the first time the new Seņora Perez assumed a tone ofauthority at Soledad, and Kit Rhodes thanked his lucky stars that shewas arrayed with him instead of against him, for her eyes glowed greenlightning on the priest whose curiosity had gotten him into trouble. Kit could not really blame him, for there was neither priest nor peonof the land who had not had visions of conquest if only the red goldof the Alisal should be conveniently stumbled upon! And Tula listened to the words of Doņa Jocasta as she would havelistened to a god. "I go, " she said eagerly. "The trail it is strange to me, but I willfind that way. I think I find in the dark that trail on which themother of me was going!" Doņa Jocasta patted the hand of the girl, but looked at Kit. "Thattrail is not for a maid, " she said meaningly. "I came over it, andknow. " "I think it is for me, " he answered. "The promise was mine. I knownone of the people, but the names are written. It is eighty miles. " "Three days. " "More, double that, " he said thoughtfully, and the eyes of Tula methis in disapproval. It was the merest hint of a frown, but it served. She could do the errand better than she could guard the rest of thegold. If her little belt was lost it was little, but if his storeshould be found it would be enough to start a new revolution inSonora;--the men of Rotil and the suspicious padre would unite on thetreasure trail. It was the padre who gave him most uneasiness, becausethe padre was guessing correctly! The dream of a mighty church of thedesert to commemorate all the ruined missions of the wilderness, wasa great dream for the priest of a little pueblo, and the eyes of thePadre Andreas were alight with keen, --too keen, anticipation. "I go, " stated Tula again. "No other one is knowing my people. " "That is a true word, " decided Padre Andreas, "a major-domo of evilmind at Linda Vista could take the gold and send north whatever unrulyvagabonds he had wished to be free from. Let the maid go, and I canarrange to see her there safe. " This kind offer did not receive the approval deserved. Kit wished noman on the trail with Tula who knew of the gold, and Tula herself wasnot eager to journey into unknown regions with a man of religion, whohad already learned from Valencia of the elaborate ceremony plannedfor a "Judas day!" Little though Tula knew of churchly observances, she had an instinctive fear that she would be detained in the southtoo long to officiate in this special ceremony on which she had sether heart. "Not with a priest will I go, " she announced. "He would shut me in aschool, and in that place I would die. Clodomiro can go, or Isidro, who is so good and knowing all our people. " "That is a good thought, " agreed Doņa Jocasta, who had no desire thatPadre Andreas meet the family of Terain and recount details of thePerez marriage, --not at least until she had worn her official title alittle longer and tested the authority it gave her. "That is a goodthought, for I have no wish that my house be left without a priest. Seņor Rhodes, which man is best?" But before Kit could answer Ramon Rotil stood in the door, and hiseyes went to the papers on the table. Tula had recovered her belt, andfastened it under the _manta_ she wore. "So! you are working in council, eh?" he asked. "And have arrived atplans? First your own safety, seņora?" "No, seņor, --first the bringing back of the people driven off by theslavers. The letter is written; this child is to take it because thepeople are her people, but a safe man is wanted, and these two Icannot let go. You know José Perez, and his wife must not be without aman of religion as guard, yet he alone would not save me from others, hence the American seņor----" "Sure, that is a safe thought, " and he took the seat offered by Kit. But he shook his head after listening to their suggestions. "No. Isidro is too old, and Clodomiro with his flying ribbands of awould-be lover, is too young for that trail. You want--you want----" He paused as his mind evidently went searching among his men for onedependable. Then he smiled at Kit. "You saved me the right man, seņor! Who would be better than theforeman of Soledad? Would it not be expected that Seņora Perez wouldsend the most important of the ranchmen? Very well then. Marto issafe, he will go. " "But Marto--" began Padre Andreas, when Rotil faced about, staring himinto silence. "Marto will return here to Soledad today, " he said, and the face ofthe priest went pale. It was as if he had said that the task of Martoon the east trail would be ended. "Yes, Marto Cavayso has been at Hermosillo, " assented Doņa Jocasta. "He will know all the ways to arrive quickly. " "That will be attended to. Will you, seņor, see to it that horse andprovision are made ready for the trail? And you, seņora? Soledad inthe wilderness is no good place for a lady. When this matter of theslaves is arranged, will it please you to ride south, or north? Troopsof the south will be coming this way;--it will be a land of soldiersand foraging. " "How shall I answer that?" murmured Doņa Jocasta miserably. "In thesouth José Perez may make life a not possible thing for me, --and inthe north I would be a stranger. " "José Perez will not make trouble; yet trouble might be made, --atfirst, " said Rotil avoiding her eyes, and turning again to Kit. "Seņor, by the time Marto gets back from the south, the pack muleswill be here again. Until they are gone from Soledad I trust you incharge of Seņora Perez. She must have a manager, and there is none sonear as you. " "At her service, " said Kit promptly, "but this place----" "Ai, that is it, " agreed Rotil. "North is the safer place for womenalone, and you--did you not say that on Granados there were friends?" "Why, yes, General, " replied Kit. "My friend, Captain Pike, issomewhere near, and the owner of Granados is a lady, and among uswe'll do our best. But it's a hard trip, and I've only one gun. " "You will take your choice of guns, horses, or men, " decided Rotil. "That is your work. Also you will take with you the evidence of SeņoraPerez on that matter of the murder. The padre can also come in onthat, --so it will be service all around. " Chappo came to the door to report that all was ready for the trail, and Rotil stood up, and handed to Doņa Jocasta the marriage contract. "Consider the best way of protecting this until you reach an alcaldeand have a copy made and witnessed, " he said warningly. "It protectsyour future. The fortunes of war may take all the rest of us, but thewife of Perez needs the record of our names; see to it!" She looked up at him as if to speak, but no words came. He gazedcuriously at her bent head, and the slender hands over the papers. Inhis life of turmoil and bloodshed he had halted to secure for her theright to a principality. In setting his face to the east, and thebattle line, he knew the chance was faint that he would ever see heragain, and his smile had in it a touch of self-derision at thethought, --for after all he was nothing to her! "So--that is all, " he said, turning away. "You come with me a littleways, seņor, and to you, seņora, _adios_!" "Go with God, Ramon Rotil, " she murmured, "and if ever a friend is ofneed to you, remember the woman to whom you gave justice and a name!" "_Adios_, " he repeated, and his spurs tinkled as he strode through thepatio to the portal where the saddle horses were waiting. The packmules were already below the mesa, and reached in a long line over therange towards the caņon of the eastern trail. "You have your work cut out, " he said to Kit. "For one thing, MartoCavayso will carry out orders, but you must not have him enter a roomwhere Doņa Jocasta may be. It would be to offend her and frighten him. He swears to the saints that he was bewitched. That is as may be, butit is an easy way out! When the pack mules come back, and Marto ishere, it is for you two to do again the thing we did last night. I mayneed Soledad on another day, and would keep all its secrets. After youhave loaded the last of the guns it is best for you to go quickly. Here is a permit in case you cross any land held by our men;--it isfor you, your family, and all your baggage without molestation. SeņoraPerez has the same. This means you can take over the border any of thefurnishings of Soledad required by the lady for a home elsewhere. Thewagons sent north by Perez will serve well for that, and they arehers. " "But if he should send men of his own to interfere----" "He won't, " stated Rotil. "You are capitan, and Soledad is undermilitary rule. There is only one soul here over which your word is notlaw. I have given the German Judas to your girl, and the women canhave their way with him. He is as a dead man; call her. " There was no need, for Tula had followed at a discreet distance, andfrom beside a pillar gazed regretfully after her hero, the Deliverer, whom she felt every man should follow. "_Oija, muchacha!_" he said as Kit beckoned her forward, "go toFidelio. He is over there filling the cantins at the well. Tell him togive you the key to the quarters of El Aleman, and hearken you!--Iwash my hands of him from this day. If you keep him, well, but if heescapes, the loss is to you. I go, and not again will Ramon Rotil trapa Judas for your hellishness. " Tula sped to Fidelio, secured the key and was back to hold the stirrupof Rotil as he was helped to the saddle. "If God had made me a man instead of a maid, I would ride the world asyour soldier, my General, " she said, holding the key to her breast asan amulet. "Send your lovers instead, " he said, and laughed, "for you will havethem when you get more beef on your bones. _Adios_, soldier girl!" She peered up at him under her mane of black hair. "Myself, --I think that is true, " she stated gravely, "also my lovers, when they come, must follow you! When I see my own people safe inPalomitas it may be that I, Tula, will also follow you, --and the helpof the child of Miguel may not be a little help, my General. " Kit Rhodes alone knew what she meant. Her intense admiration for therebel leader of the wilderness had brought the glimmer of a dream toher;--the need of gold was great as the need of guns, and for thedeliverer of the tribes what gift too great? But the others of the guard laughed at the crazy saying of the brownwisp of a girl. They had seen women of beauty give him smiles, andmore than one girl follow his trail for his lightest word, but to noneof them did it occur that this one called by him the young crane, orthe possessor of many devils, could bring more power to his hand thana regiment of the women who were comrades of a light hour. But her solemnity amused Rotil, and he swept off his hat withexaggerated courtesy. "I await the day, Tulita. Sure, bring your lovers, --and later yoursons to the fight! While you wait for them tell Marto Cavayso he is tohave a care of you as if you were the only child of Ramon Rotil! I toowill have a word with him of that. See to it, Capitan of the roads, and _adios!_" He grinned at the play upon the name of Rhodes, and whirled his horse, joining his men, who sat their mounts and watched at a littledistance. Within the portal was gathered all those left of the household ofSoledad to whom the coming and the going of the revolutionary leaderwas the great event of their lives, and all took note of the title of"Capitan" and the fact that the Americano and the Indian girl had hislast spoken words. They had gone scarce a mile when Fidelio spurred his horse back andwith Mexican dash drew him back on his haunches as Kit emerged fromthe corridor. "General Rotil's compliments, " he said with a grin, "and Marto willreport to you any event requiring written record, --and silence!" "Say that again and say it slow, " suggested Kit. "That is the word as he said it, Capitan, 'requiring the writing ofrecords, and--silence!'" "I get you, " said Kit, and with a flourish and a clatter, Fidelio wassoon lost in the dust. Kit was by no means certain that he did "get" him. He felt that he hadquite enough trouble without addition of records and secrecy for actsof the Deliverer. CHAPTER XIX THE RETURN OF TULA The sentinel palms of Soledad were sending long lines of shadowstoward the blue range of the Sierras, and gnarled old orange trees inthe ancient mission garden drenched the air with fragrance from manypetals. There had been a sand storm the day before, followed by rain, and allthe land was refreshed and sparkling. The pepper trees swung tasselsof bloom and the flaming coral of the occotilla glowed like tropicbirds poised on wide-reaching wands of green. Meadow larks echoed eachother in the tender calls of nesting time, and from the jagged peakson the east, to far low hills rising out of a golden haze in the west, there was a great quiet and peace brooding over the old missiongrounds of the wilderness. Doņa Jocasta paced the outer corridor, watched somberly by PadreAndreas on whom the beauty of the hour was lost. "Is your heart turned stone that you lift no hand, or speak no wordfor the soul of a mortal?" he demanded. "Already the terrible women ofPalomitas are coming to wait for their Judas, and this is the morningof the day!" "It is no work of mine, Padre, " she answered wearily. "I amsick, --here!--that the beast has been all these days and nights undera roof near me. I know how the women feel, though I think I would notwait, as they have waited, --for Good Friday. " "It is murder in your heart to harbor such wickedness of thought, " heinsisted. "Your soul is in jeopardy that you do not contemplateforgiveness. Even though a man be a heretic, a priest must do hisoffice when it comes to a sentence of death. After all--he is ahuman. " "I do not know that, " replied Doņa Jocasta thoughtfully, and she sankinto a rawhide chair in the shade of a pillar. "Listen, Padre. I amnot learned in books, but I have had new thoughts with me these days. Don Pajarito is telling me of los Alemanos all over the world;--soulsthey have not, and serpents and toads are their mothers! Here inMexico we have our flag from old Indian days with the eagle and thesnake. Once I heard scholars in Hermosillo talk about that; they saidit was from ancient times of sky worship, and the bird was a bird ofstars, --also the serpent. " Padre Andreas lifted his brows in derision at the childishness ofIndian astrology. "Myself, I think the Indian sky knowers had the prophet sight, " wenton Doņa Jocasta. "They make their eagle on the standard and they putthe serpent there of the reason that some day a thing of poison wouldcrawl to the nest of the eagle of Mexico to comrade there. It hascrawled over the seas for that, Padre, and the beak and claws and wingof the eagle must all do battle to kill the head and the heart ofit;--for the heart of a serpent dies hard, and they breed and hatchtheir eggs everywhere in the soil of Mexico. Seņor Padre, the Indianwomen of Palomitas are right!--the girl Tula is a child of the eagle, and her stroke at the heart of the German snake will be a true stroke. I will not be one to give the weak word for mercy. " Her gaze, through half-closed lids, was directed towards the far trailof the caņon where moving dots of dark marked the coming of thePalomitas women. A ray of reflected light touched the jewel green ofher eyes like shadowed emeralds in their dusky casket, and the priest, constantly proclaiming the probable loss of her soul, could not butbring his glance again and again to the wondrous beauty of her. Shehad bloomed like a royal rose in the days of serene rest at Soledad. "If the heretic Americano gives you these thoughts which are notChristian, it will be a day of good luck when you see the last ofhim, " was his cold statement as he watched her. "My mind is not wellsatisfied as to his knowledge of secret things here in Sonora. TheIndians say he is an enchanter or Ramon Rotil would never have lefthim here as capitan with you, --and that belt of gold----" "But it was not the belt of the Americano!" "No, but he _knows_! I tell you that gold is of the gold lost beforewe were born, --the red gold of the padres' mine!" "But the old women are telling me that the gold was Indian gold longbefore Spanish priests saw the land! Does the Indian girl then nothave first right?" "None has right ahead of the church, since all those pagans are underthe rule of church! They are benighted heathen who must come underinstruction and authority, else are they as beasts of the field. " "Still, --if the girl makes use of her little heritage for a piouspurpose----" "Her intent has nothing to do with that secret knowledge of theAmericano!" he insisted. "Has he bewitched you also that you have solittle interest in a mine of gold in anyone of the arroyas of yourland?" She smiled at that without turning her head. "If a mountain of gold should be uncovered at Soledad, of whatdifference to me? Would he let a woman make traffic with it? Surelynot. " "He?" "José Perez, --who else?" Padre Andreas closed his eyes a moment and arose, but did not answer. He paced the length of the corridor and back before he spoke. "It is for you to ask the Americano that the prisoner be given apriest if he wants prayer, " he said returning to their originalsubject of communication. "It is a duty that I tell you this; it isyour own house. " "Seņor Rhodes is capitan, " she returned indifferently. "It is his taskto give me rest here to prepare for that long north journey. I do notrest in my mind or my soul when you talk to me of the German snake, soI will ask that you speak with Capitan Rhodes. He has the knowing ofSpanish. " "Too much for safety of us, " commented the priest darkly. "Who is tosay how he uses it with the Indians? It is well known that theAmerican government would win all this land, and work with the Indiansthat they help win it. " "So everyone is saying in Hermosillo, " agreed Doņa Jocasta, "but theAmerican capitan has not told me lies of any other thing, and he issaying that is a lie made by foreign people. Also--" and she looked athim doubtfully, "the man Conrad cursed your name yesterday as a damnedAustrian whose country had cost his country much. " "My mother was not Austrian!" retorted Padre Andreas, "and all mychildhood was in Mexico. But how did Conrad know?" "He told Elena it was his business to know such things. The Germanshelp send many Mexican priests north over the border. He had thethought that you are to go with me for some reason political of whichI knew nothing!" "I? Did _I_ come in willingness to this wilderness? From the beginningto the end I am as a prisoner here;--as much a prisoner as is ElAleman behind the bars! No horse is mine;--if I walk abroad for my ownhealth a vaquero ever is after me that I ride back with no fatigue tomyself! It is the work of the heretic Americano who will have his owncurse for it!" He fumed nervously over the unexpected thrust of Austrian ancestry, and the beautiful eyes of Doņa Jocasta regarded him with awakenedinterest. She had never thought of his politics, or possibleaffiliations, but after all it was true that he had been stationed ata pueblo where everything on wheels must pass coming north towardsthe border, also that was a very small pueblo to support a padre, andperhaps---- "Padre, " she said after a moment, "but for the Americano you would bea dead man. Think you what Ramon would have done to a priest who let avaquero carry me to the ranges! Also I came back to Soledad becausethe Americano told me it was only duty and justice that I come foryour sake as Ramon has no liking for priests. You see, seņor, ourAmerican capitan of Soledad is not so bad;--he had a care of you. " "Too much a care of me!" retorted the priest. "Know you not that thedoor of my sleeping room is bolted each night, and unbolted at dawn?He laughs with a light heart, and sings foolishly, --your newAmericano; but under that cloak of the simple his plotting is notidle!" "As to that, I think his light heart is not so light these days, " saidDoņa Jocasta. "Two days now the Indian girl and Marto Cavayso couldhave been back in Soledad, and he is looking, looking ever over thatempty trail. Before the sun was above the sierra today he was farthere coming across the mesa. " "A man does not go in the dark to look for a trail, " said PadreAndreas meaningly. "He unbolted my door on his return, and to me helooked as a man who has done work that was heavy. What work is therefor him to do alone in the hills?" "Who knows? A horse herd is somewhere in a caņon beyond. There arecolts, and the storm of yesterday might make trouble. The old fatherof Elena says that storm has not gone far and will come back! Andwhile the Americano rides to learn of colts, and strays, he alsopicks the best mules for our journey to the border. " "Does he find the best mules with packs already on their backs in thecaņons?" demanded the padre skeptically. "From my window I saw themreturn. " "I also, " confessed Doņa Jocasta amused at the persistence ofsuspicion, "and the load was the water bags and _serape_! Does any buta fool go into the wilderness without water?" "You cover him well, seņora, but I think it was not horses he went inthe night to count, " said the priest sarcastically. "Gold in the landis to him who finds it, --and I tell you the church will hear of thatred gold belt from me! Also there will be a new search for it! If itis here the church will see that it does not go with Americanrenegades across the border!" "Padre, all the land speaks peace today, yet you are as a threateningcloud over Soledad!" "I speak in warning, not threat, --and I am not the only cloud in thesky. The women of vengeance are coming beyond there where the willowsare green. " Doņa Jocasta looked the way he pointed, and stood up with anexclamation of alarm. "Clodomiro! Call Clodomiro!" she said hurriedly, and as the priestonly stared at her, she sped past him to the portal and called the boywho came running from the patio. She pointed as the priest had pointed. "They are strangers, they do not know, " she said. "Kill a horse, butmeet them!" His horse was in the plaza, and he was in the saddle before shefinished speaking, digging in his heels and yelling as though leadinga charge while the frightened animal ran like a wild thing. Doņa Jocasta stood gazing after him intently, shading her eyes withher hand. Women came running out of the patio and Padre Andreas staredat her. "What new thing has given you fear?" he asked in wonder. "No new thing, --a very old thing of which Elena told me! That greenstrip of willow is the edge of a quicksand where no one knows thedepth. The women are thinking to make a short path across, and the onewho leads will surely go down. " The priest stared incredulous. "How a quicksand and no water?" he asked doubtfully. "There _is_ water, --hidden water! It comes under the ground from thehills. In the old, old days it was a wide well boiling like a kettleover a fire, also it was warm! Then sand storms filled that valley andfilled the well. It is crusted over, but the boiling goes on farbelow. Elena said not even a coyote will touch that caņoncita thoughthe dogs are on his trail. The Indians say an evil spirit lives underthere, but the women of Mesa Blanca and Palomitas do not know theplace. " "It should have a fence, --a place like that. " "It had, but the wind took it, and, as you see, Soledad is a forgottenplace. " They watched Clodomiro circle over the mesa trail and follow the womendown the slope of the little valley. It was fully three miles away, yet the women could be seen running in fear to the top of the mesawhere they cast themselves on the ground resting from fright andexertion. Quite enjoying his spectacular dash of rescue, Clodomiro cantered backalong the trail, and when he reached the highest point, turned lookingto the southeast where, beyond the range, the old Yaqui trail led tothe land of despair. He halted there, throwing up his hand as if in answer to some signal, and then darted away, straight across the mesa instead of toward thebuildings. "Tula has come!" said Doņa Jocasta in a hushed voice of dread. "Shehas come, and Seņor Rhodes is needed here. That coming of Tula maybring an end to quiet days, --like this!" She sighed as she spoke, for the week had been as a space of restfulparadise after the mental and physical horrors she had lived through. In a half hour Clodomiro came in sight again just as Kit rode in fromthe west. "Get horses out of the corrals, " he called, "all of them. That trailhas been long even from the railroad. " It was done quickly, and the vaqueros rode out as Clodomiro reachedthe plaza. "_Tula?_" asked Kit. "Tula is as the living whose mind is with the dead, " said the boy. "Many are sick, some are dead, --the mother of Tula died on the traillast night. " "Good God!" whispered Kit. "After all that hell of a trail, to save noone for herself! Where is Marto?" "Marto walks, and sick ones are on his horse. I go back now that Tulahas this horse. " "No, I will go. Stay you here to give help to the women. Bring outbeds in every corridor. Bring straw and blankets when the beds aredone. " Doņa Jocasta put out her hand as he was about to mount. "And I? What task is mine to help?" she asked, and Kit looked down ather gravely. "Seņora, you have only to be yourself, gracious and kind of heart. Also remember this is the first chance in the lands of Soledad to showthe natives they have not alone a padrona, but a protecting friend. Indays to come it may be a memory of comfort to you. " Then he mounted, and led the string of horses out to meet the exiles. While she looked after him murmuring, "In days to come?" And to the padre she said, "I had ceased to think of days to come, forthe days of my life had reached the end of all I could see or think. He gives hope even in the midst of sadness, --does the Americano. " Kit met the band where the trail forked to Palomitas and Mesa Blanca. Some wanted to go direct to their own homes and people, while Martoargued that food and rest and a priest awaited them at Soledad, andbecause of their dead, they should have prayers. Tula said nothing. She sat on the sand, and caressed a knife with aslightly curved blade, --a knife not Mexican, yet familiar to Kit, andlike a flash he recalled seeing one like it in the hand of Conrad atGranados. She did not even look up when he halted beside her though the otherswelcomed with joy the sight of the horses for the rest of the trail. "Tula!" he said bending over her, "Tula, we come to welcome you, --myhorse is for your riding. " She looked up when he touched her. "Friend of me, " she murmured wistfully, "you made me put a mark atthat place after we met in the first dawn, --so I was knowing it well. Also my mother was knowing, --and it was where she died last nightunder the moon. See, this is the knife on which Anita died in thatplace. It is ended for us--the people of Miguel, and the people ofCajame!" "Tula, you have done wonderful things, many deeds to make the spiritof Miguel proud. Is that not so, my friends?" and he turned to theothers, travel-stained, sick and weary, yet one in their cries of thegratitude they owed to Tula and to him, by which he perceived thatTula had, for her own reasons, credited him with the plan of ransom. They tried brokenly to tell of their long fear and despair in thestrangers' land, --and of sickness and deaths there. Then the miracleof Tula walking by the exalted excellencia of that great place, andnaming one by one the Palomitas names, forgetting none;--until all wholived were led out from that great planting place of sugar cane andmaize, and their feet set on the northern way. When they reached this joyous part of the recital words failed, andthey wept as they smiled at him and touched the head of Tula tenderly. Even a gorgeous and strange _manta_ she now wore was pressed to thelips of women who were soon to see their children or their desolatemothers. His eyes grew misty as they thronged about her, --the slender darkchild of the breed of a leader. The new _manta_ was of yellow wool andcotton, bordered with dull green and little squares of flaming scarletwoven in it by patient Indian hands of the far south coast. It madeher look a bit royal in the midst of the drab-colored, weary band. She seemed scarcely to hear their praise, or their sobs and prayers. Her face was still and her gaze far off and brooding as her fingersstroked the curved blade over and over. "An Indian stole that knife from the German after his face was cutwith it by her sister, " said Marto Cavayso quietly while the vaqueroswere helping the weaker refugees to mount, two to each animal. "Thatman gives it to her at the place where Marta, her mother, died in thenight. So after that she does not sleep or eat or talk. It is as yousee. " "I see! Take you the others, and Tula will ride on my saddle, " saidKit in the same tone. Then he pointed to the beautifully worked_manta_, "Did she squander wealth of hers on that?" Marto regarded him with an impatient frown--it seemed to him an illmoment for the American joke. "Tula had no wealth, " he stated, "we lived as we could on the finegold you gave to me for myself. " "Oh yes, I had forgotten that, " declared Kit in some wonder at thisinformation, "but _mantas_ like that do not grow on trees in Sonora. " "That is a gift from the very grand daughter of the General Terain, "said Marto. "Also if you had seen affairs as they moved there at LindaVista you would have said as does Ramon Rotil, that this one isdaughter of the devil! I was there, and with my eyes I saw it, but ifI had not, --an angel from heaven would not make me believe!" "What happened?" "The Virgin alone knows! for women are in her care, and no man couldsee. As ordered, I went to the gates of that hacienda very grand. _Sangre de Christo!_ if they had known they would have strung me to atree and filled me with lead! But I was the very responsible vaqueroof Rancho Soledad in Altar--and the lizards of guards at the gate hadno moment of suspicion. I told them the Indian girl carried a letterfor the eyes of their mistress and the sender was Doņa Jocasta Perez. At that they sent some messenger on the run, for they say the DoņaDolores is fire and a sword to any servant of theirs who is slow inher tasks. " "I heard she was a wonder of pride and beauty, " said Kit. "Did you seeher?" "That came later. She sent for Tula who would give the letter to noone, --not even to me. The guard divided their dinner with me while Iwaited; if they were doing work for their general I was doing work formine and learned many things in that hour! At last Tula came walkingdown that great stair made from one garden to another where laureltrees grow, and with her walked a woman out of the sun. There is noother word, seņor, for that woman! Truly she is of gold and rose; hermother's family were of old Spain and she is a glory to any day!" "Did you feel yourself under witchcraft--once more?" queried Kit. "_Sangre de Christo!_ Never again! But José Perez had a good eye formaking choice of women, --that is a true word! So Doņa Dolores walkeddown to the drive with that _manta_ over her arm, also a belt in herhand, --a belt of gold, seņor, see!" To the astonished gaze of Kit Rhodes he drew from under his coat theburro-skin belt he had directed the making of up there in the hiddencaņon of El Alisal. Marto balanced it in his hand appreciatively. "And there was more of it than this!" he exulted, "for the way on therailroad was paid out of it for all the Indians. That is why we losttwo days, --our car was put on a side track, and for the sick it wasworse than to walk the desert. " "Yes; well?" "Doņa Dolores got in a fine carriage there. _Madre de Dios!_ whathorses! White as snow on the sierras, and gold on all the harness! Me, I am dreaming of them since that hour! They got in, Tula also in herpoor dress, and a guard told me to follow the carriage. It was as ifSan Gabriel made me invitation to enter heaven! Twenty miles we wentthrough that plantation, a deep sea of cane, seņor, and maize of atree size, --the richness there is riches of a king. Guards wereeverywhere and peons rode ahead to inform the major-domo, and he cameriding like devils to meet Doņa Dolores Terain. I am not a clever man, seņor, but even I could see that never before had the lady of LindaVista made herself fatigue by a plantation ride there, and I thinkmyself he had a scare that she see too much! At the first when DoņaDolores had speech with him, it was easy to see he blamed me, and hiseyes looked once as if to scorch me with fire. Then she pointed to thechild beside her, and gave some orders, and he sent a guard with Tulathrough another gate into a great corral where men and women werepacked like cattle. Seņor, I have been in battles, but I never heardscreams of wounded like the screams of joy I heard in that corral!Some of these Indians dropped like dead and were carried out of thegate that way as Tula stood inside and named the names. "When it was over that woman of white beauty told that manager to havethem all well fed, and given meat for the journey, for he would answerto the general if any stroke of harm came to anyone of them on theplantation of Linda Vista. Then she gave to my hand the belt of goldto care for the poor people on the trail;--also she said the peoplewere a free gift to Doņa Jocasta Perez, and there was no ransom topay. Myself I think the Doņa Dolores had happiness to tell thegeneral, her father, that José Perez had a wife, for that plan ofmarriage was but for politics. _Sangre de Christo!_ what a woman! Whenall was done she held out the _manta_ to Tula, and her smile was ashoney of the mesquite, and she said, "In my house you would not takethe gift I offered you, but now that you have your mother, and yourfriends safe, will you yet be so proud?" and Tula with her arms aroundher mother, stood up and let the thing be put over her head as yousee, and that, Seņor Capitan, is the way of the strange _manta_ ofTula. " "And that?" queried Kit, indicating the belt. Marto smiled a bitsheepishly and lowered his voice because the last of the horses werebeing loaded with the homesick human freight, and the chatter, andclatter of hoofs had ceased about them. "Maybe it is the _manta_, and maybe I am a fool, " he confessed, "butshe told me to spend not one ounce beyond what was needed, for it wasto use only for these sick and poor people of hers. There was a goodgame going on in that train, --and fools playing! I could have wonevery peso if I had put up only a little handful of the nuggets. Thatis why I think my general knew when he said she was the devil, for shestood up in that straight rich garment of honor and looked at me--onlylooked, not one spoken word, seņor!--and on my soul and the soul of mymother, the wish to play in that game went away from me in thatminute, and did not come back! How does a man account for a thing likethat; I ask you?" Kit thought of that first night on the treasure trail in the mountainabove them, and smiled. "I can't account for it, though I do recognize the fact, " he answered. "It is not the first time Tula has ruled an outfit, and it is not the_manta_!" Then he walked over and lifted her from the ground as he would lift achild, she weighed so little more! "Little sister, " he said kindly, "now that you are rested, you willride my horse to Soledad. Your big work is done for your people. Allis finished. " "No, seņor, --not yet is the finish, " she said shaking her head, "notyet!" Kit felt uncomfortably the weight in his pocket of the key of Conrad'sroom. He had made most solemn promise it would be guarded till shecame. He had studied up some logical arguments to present to herattention for herding the German across the border as a murderer theUnited States government would deal justice to, but after the reportof Marto concerning her long trail, and the death of her mother in thedesert, he did not feel so much like either airing ideas or askingquestions. He was rather overwhelmed by the knowledge that she had notallowed even Marto to guess that the bag of gold was her very own! He took her on the saddle in front of him because she drooped sowearily there alone, and her head sank against his shoulder as ifmomentarily she was glad to be thus supported. "Poor little eaglet!" he said affectionately, "I will take you northto Cap Pike, and someone else who will love you when she hears allthis; and in other years, quieter years, we will ride again intoSonora, and----" She shook her head against his shoulder, and he stopped short. "Why, Tula!" he began in remonstrance, but she lifted her hand with acurious gesture of finality. "Friend of me, " she said in a small voice with an undertone of sadfatefulness, "words do not come today. They told you I am not sleepingon this home trail, and it is true. I kept my mother alive long afterthe death birds of the night were calling for her--it is so! Alsotoday at the dawn the same birds called above me, --above _me_! andlook!" They had reached the summit of the valley's wall and for a half mileahead the others were to be seen on the trail to Soledad, but it wasnot there she pointed, but to the northeast where a dark cloud hungover the mountains. Its darkness was cleft by one lance of lightning, but it was too far away for sound of thunder to reach them. "See you not that the cloud in the sky is like a bird, --a dark angrybird? Also it is over the trail to the north, but it is not foryou, --_I_ am the one first to see it! Seņor, I will tell you, but Itelling no other--I think my people are calling me all the time, inevery way I look now. I no knowing how I go to them, but--I think Igo!" CHAPTER XX EAGLE AND SERPENT Marto Cavayso gave to Kit Rhodes the burro-skin belt and a letter fromDoņa Dolores Terain to the wife of José Perez. "My work is ended at the hacienda until the mules come back for moreguns, and I will take myself to the adobe beyond the corrals for whatrest there may be. You are capitan under my general, so this goes toyou for the people of the girl he had a heart for. Myself, --I likelittle their coyote whines and yells. It may be a giving of thanks, orit may be a mourning for dead, --but it sounds to me like an anthemmade in hell. " He referred to the greeting songs of the returned exiles, and thewails for the dead left behind on the trail. The women newly come fromPalomitas sat circled on the plaza, and as food or drink was offeredeach, a portion was poured on the sand as a libation to the ghosts ofthe lately dead, and the name of each departed was included in thewailing chant sung over and over. It was a weird, hypnotic thing, made more so by the curious light, yellow and green in the sky, preceding that dark cloud coming slowlywith sound of cannonading from the north. Though the sun had not set, half the sky was dark over the eastern sierras. "The combination is enough to give even a sober man the jim-jams, "agreed Kit. "Doņa Jocasta is sick with fear of them, and has gone into pray as far from the sound as possible. The letter will go to her, and the belt will go to Tula who may thank you another day. This dayof the coming back she is not herself. " "Mother of God! that is a true word. No girl or woman is like that!" The priest, who had talked with the sick and weary, and listened totheir sobs of the degradation of the slave trail, had striven to speakwith Tula, who with head slightly drooped looked at him under herstraight brows as though listening to childish things. "See you!" muttered Marto. "That _manta_ must have been garb of someking's daughter, and no common maid. It makes her a different thing. Would you not think the padre some underling, and she a ruler givinglaws?" For, seated as she was, in a chair with arms, her robe of honorreached straight from her chin to her feet, giving her appearance ofgreater height than she was possessed of, and the slender bandaholding her hair was of the same scarlet of the broideries. Kitremembered calling her a young Cleopatra even in her rags, and now heknew she looked it! He was not near enough to hear the words of the priest, but with allhis energy he was striving to win her to some view of his. Shelistened in long silence until he ceased. Then her hand went under her _manta_ and drew out the curved knife. She spoke one brief sentence, and lifted the blade over her head. Itcaught the light of the hovering sun, and the Indians near enough tohear her words set up a scream of such unearthly emotion that thepriest turned ashen, and made the sign to ward off evil. It was merely coincidence that a near flash of lightning flamed fromthe heavens as she lifted the knife, --but it inspired every Indian toa crashing cry of exultation. And it did not end there, for a Palomitas woman had carried across thedesert a small drum of dried skin stretched over a hollow log, and atthe words of Tula she began a soft tum-tum-tum-tum on the hiddeninstrument. The sound was at first as a far echo of the thunder backof the dark cloud, and the voices of the women shrilled their emphasisas the drum beat louder, or the thunder came nearer. Kit Rhodes decided Marto was entirely correct as to the inspirationback of that anthem. "_Sangre de Christo!_ look at that!" muttered Marto, who meant to turnhis back on the entire group, yet was held by the fascination of theunexpected. Four Indian youths with a huge and furious bull came charging down themesa towards the corral. A _reata_ fastened to each horn and hind footof the animal was about the saddle horn of a boy, and the ragingbellowing creature was held thus at safe distance from all. The boys, shouting with their joy of victory, galloped past the plaza to wherefour great stakes had already been driven deep in the hard ground. Tothose stakes the bull would be tied until the burden was ready forhis back--and his burden would be what was left of "Judas" when thewomen of the slave trail got through with him! "God the father knows I am a man of no white virtues, " muttered Martoeyeing the red-eyed maddened brute, "but here is my vow to covet nocomradeship of aught in the shape of woman in the district ofAltar--bred of the devil are they!" He followed after to the corral to watch the tying of the creature, around which the Indian men were gathered at a respectful distance. But Rhodes, after one glance at the bellowing assistant of Indianvengeance, found himself turning again to Tula and the padre. Thatwild wail and the undertone of the drum was getting horribly on hisnerves, --yet he could not desert, as had Marto. Tula sat as before, but with the knife held in her open hand on thearm of the chair. She followed with a grim smile the careering of thebull, then nodded her head curtly to the priest and turned her gazeslowly round the corridor until she saw Rhodes, and tilted back herhead in a little gesture of summons. "Well, little sister, " he said, "what's on your mind?" "The padre asks to pray with El Aleman. I say yes, for the padre hasgood thoughts in his heart, --maybe so! You have the key?" "Sure I have the key, but I fetch it back to you when visitors startgoing in, and--oh yes--there's your belt for your people. " "No; you be the one to give, " she said with a glance of sorrowtowards a girl who was youngest of the slaves brought back. "You, amigo, keep all but the key. " "As you say, " he agreed. "Come along, padre, you are to get theprivilege you've been begging for, and I don't envy you the task. " Padre Andreas made no reply. In his heart he blamed Rhodes that theprisoner had not been let escape during the absence of the girl, andalso resented the offhand manner of the young American concerning theduty of a priest. The sun was at the very edge of the world, and all shadows spreadingfor the night when they went to the door of Conrad's quarters. Kitunlocked the door and looked in before opening wide. The one windowfaced the corral, and Conrad turned from it in shaking horror. "What is it they say out there?" he shouted in fury. "They call wordsof blasphemy, that the bull is Germany, and 'Judas' will ride it tothe death! They are wild barbarians, they are----" "Never mind what they are, " suggested Kit, "here is a priest whothinks you may have a soul worth praying for, and the Indians have lethim come--once!" Then he let the priest in and locked the door, going back to Tula withthe key. She sat where he had left her, and was crooning again theweird tuneless dirge at which Marto had been appalled. But she handed him a letter. "Marto forgot. It was with the Chinaman trader at the railroad, " shesaid and went placidly on fondling the key as she had fondled theknife, and pitching her voice in that curious falsetto dear to Indianceremonial. He could scarce credit the letter as intended for himself, as it wasaddressed in a straggling hand filling all the envelope, to CapitanChristofero Rhodes, Manager of Rancho Soledad, District of Altar, Sonora, Mexico, and in one corner was written, "By courtesy of SeņorFidelio Lopez, " and the date within a week. He opened it, and walkedout to the western end of the corridor where the light was yet good, though through the barred windows he could see candles already lit inthe shadowy _sala_. The letter was from Cap Pike, and in the midst of all the accumulatedhorror about him, Kit was conscious of a great homesick leap of theheart as he skimmed the page and found her name--"Billie is allright!" How are you, Capitan? (began the letter). That fellow Fidelio rode into the _cantina_ here at La Partida today. He asked a hell's slew of questions about you, and Billie and me nearly had fits, for we thought you were sure dead or held for ransom, and I give it to you straight, Kit, there isn't a peso left on the two ranches to ransom even Baby Buntin' if the little rat is still alive, and that ain't all Kit: it don't seem possible that Conrad and Singleton mortgaged both ranches clear up to the hilt, but it sure has happened, every acre is plastered with ten per cent paper and the compound interest strips it from Billie just as sure as if it was droppin' through to China. When Conrad was on the job he had it all blanketed, but now saltpeter can't save it without cash. Billie is all right, but some peaked with worry. So am I. But you cheer up, for I got plans for a hike up into Pinal County for us three on a search for the Lost Dutchman Mine, lost fifty years and I have a hunch we can find it, got the dope from an old half breed who knew the Dutchman. So don't you worry about trailing home broke. The Fidelio hombre said to look for you in six days after Easter, and meet you with water at the Rio Seco, so we'll do that. He called you capitan and said the Deliverer had made you an officer; how about it? He let loose a line of talk about your two women in the outfit, but I sort of stalled him on that, so Billie wouldn't get it, for I reckon that's a greaser lie, Kit, and you ain't hitched up to no gay Juanita down there. I had a monkey and parrot time to explain even that Tula squaw to Billie, for she didn't savvy--not a copper cent's worth! She is right here now instructin' me, but I won't let her read this, so don't you worry. She says to tell you it looks at last like our old eagle bird will have a chance to flop its wings in France. The pair of us is near about cross-eyed from watchin' the south trail into Altar, and the east trail where the troops will go! She says even if we are broke there is an adobe for you at Vijil's, and a range for Buntin' and Pardner. Billie rides Pardner now instead of Pat. I reckon that's all Kit, and I've worked up a cramp on this anyway. I figured that maybe you laid low down there till the Singleton murder was cleared up, but I can alibi you on that O. K. , when Johnny comes marchin' home! So don't you worry. Yours truly, Pike. He read it over twice, seeking out the lines with _her_ name anddwelling on them. So Billie was riding Pardner, --and Billie had a campready for him, --and Billie couldn't savvy even a little Indian girl inhis outfit--_say!_ He was smiling at that with a very warm glow in his heart for theresentment of Billie. He could just imagine Pike's monkey and parrottime trying to make Billie understand accidents of the trail inSonora. He would make that all clear when he got back to God'scountry! And the little heiress of Granados ranches was only an ownerof debt-laden acres, --couldn't raise a peso to ransom even the littleburro! Well, he was glad she rode Pardner instead of another horse;that showed---- Then he smiled again, and drifted into dreams. He would let Buntingtravel light to the Rio Seco, and then load him for her as no burroever was loaded to cross the border! He wondered if she'd tell himagain he couldn't hold a foreman's job? He wondered---- And then he felt a light touch on his arm, and turned to see thestarlike beauty of Doņa Jocasta beside him. Truly the companionship ofDoņa Jocasta might be a more difficult thing to explain than that ofthe Indian girl of a slave raid! Her face was blanched with fear, and her touch brought him back fromhis vision of God's country to the tom-tom, and the weird chant, andthe thunder of storm coming nearer and nearer in the twilight. "Seņor!" she breathed in terror, "even on my knees in prayer it is notfor anyone to shut out this music of demons. Look! Yesterday she was achild of courage and right, but what is she today?" She pointed to Tula and clung to him, for in all the wild chorus Tulawas the leader, --she who had the words of ancient days from the deadMiguel. She sat there as one enthroned draped in that gorgeous thing, fit, as Marto said, for a king's daughter, while the others sat in theplaza or rested on straw and blankets in the corridor looking up ather and shrilling savage echoes to the words she chanted. "And that animal, --I saw it!" moaned Doņa Jocasta. "Mother of God!that I should deny a priest who would only offer prayers for thatwicked one who is to be tortured on it! Seņor, for the love of Godgive me a horse and let me go into the desert to that storm, anyplace, --any place out of sight and sound of this most desolate house!The merciful God himself has forsaken Soledad!" As she spoke he realized that time had passed while he read andre-read and dreamed a dream because of the letter. The sun was far outof sight, only low hues of yellow and blue melting into green to showthe illumined path it had taken. By refraction rays of copper lightreached the zenith and gave momentarily an unearthly glow to the mesaand far desert, but it was only as a belated flash, for the dusk ofnight touched the edge of it. And the priest locked in with Conrad had been forgotten by him! At anymoment that girl with the key might give some signal for the ceremony, whatever it was, of the death of the German beast! "Sure, seņora, I promise you, " he said soothingly, patting her handclinging to him. "There is my horse in the plaza, and there isMarto's. We will get the padre, and both of you can ride to the littleadobe down the valley where Elena's old father lives. He is Mexican, not Indian. It is better even to kneel in prayer there all the nightthan to try to rest in Soledad while this lasts. At the dawn I willsurely go for you. Come, --we will ask for the key. " Together they approached Tula, whose eyes stared straight out seeingnone of the dark faces lifted to hers, she seemed not to see Kit whostopped beside her. "Little sister, " he said, touching her shoulder, "the padre waits tobe let out of the room of El Aleman, and the key is needed. " She nodded her head, and held up the key. "Let me be the one, " begged Doņa Jocasta, --"I should do penance! I wasnot gentle in my words to the padre, yet he is a man of God, anddevoted. Let me be the one!" The Indian girl looked up at that, and drew back the key. Then somememory, perhaps that kneeling of Doņa Jocasta with the women ofPalomitas, influenced her to trust, and after a glance at Kit shenodded her head and put the key in her hand. "You, seņor, have the horses, " implored Doņa Jocasta, "and I will atonce come with Padre Andreas. " "_Pronto!_" agreed Kit, "but I must get you a _serape_. Rain may fallfrom that cloud. " She seemed scarcely to hear him as she sped along the patio towardsthe locked door. Kit entered his own room for a blanket just as shefitted the key in the lock, and spoke the padre's name. The next instant he heard her screams, and a door slam shut, and as hecame out with the blanket, he saw the priest dash toward the portalleading from the patio to the plaza. He ran to her, lifting her from the tiles where she had been thrown. "Conrad!" she cried pointing after the flying figure. "There! Quickly, seņor, quickly!" He jerked open the door and looked within, a still figure with theface hidden, crouched by a bench against the wall. In two strides Kitcrossed from the door and grasped the shoulder, and the figure proppedthere fell back on the tiles. It was the dead priest dressed in theclothes of Conrad, and the horror of that which had been a face showedhe had died by strangulation under the hands of the man for whom hehad gone to pray. Doņa Jocasta ran wildly screaming through the patio, but the Indianvoices and the drum prevented her from being heard until she burstamong them just as Conrad leaped to the back of the nearest horse. "El Aleman! El Aleman!" she screamed pointing to him in horror. "Hehas murdered the padre and taken his robe. It is El Aleman! Your Judashas killed your priest!" Kit ran for his own horse, but with the quickness of a cat Tula wasbefore him in the saddle, and whirling the animal, leaning low, andher gorgeous _manta_ streaming behind like a banner she sped after theGerman screaming, "Judas! Judas! Judas of Palomitas!" And, as in the other chants led by her, the Indian women took up thisone in frenzied yells of rage. The men of the corral heard and leaped to saddles to follow the flyingfigures, but Kit was ahead, --not much, but enough to be nearest thegirl. Straight as an arrow the fugitive headed for Mesa Blanca, the nearestranch where a fresh horse could be found, and Doņa Jocasta and some ofthe women without horses stood in the plaza peering after that wildrace in the gray of the coming night. [Illustration: The Indian girl was steadily gaining on the German. ] A flash of lightning outlined the three ahead, and a wail of utterterror went up from them all. "Mother of God, the caņon of the quicksand!" cried Doņa Jocasta. "Tula! Tula! Tula!" shrilled the Indian women. Tula was steadily gaining on the German, and Kit was only a few rodsbehind as they dashed down the slight incline to that too green beltin the floor of the brown desert. He heard someone, Marto he thought, shouting his name and calling"_Sumidero! Sumidero!_" He did not understand, and kept right on. Others were shouting at Tula with as little result, the clatter of thehorses and the rumble of the breaking storm made all a formless chaosof sound. The frenzied scream of a horse came to him, and another lightningflash showed Conrad, ghastly and staring, leap from the saddle--in themiddle of the little valley--and Tula ride down on top of him! Then a rope fell around Kit's shoulders, pinioning his arms and he wasjerked from the horse with a thud that for a space stunned him intosemi-unconsciousness, but through it he heard again the pitiful screamof a dumb animal, and shouts of Marto to the frenzied Indians. "Ha! Clodomiro, the _reata_! Wait for the lightning, then over hershoulders! Only the horse is caught;--steady and a true hand, boy!Ai-yi! You are master, and the Mother of God is your help! Run yourhorse back, --run, curse you! or she will sink as he sinks! _Sangre deChristo!_ she cuts the _reata_!" Kit struggled out of the rope, and got to his feet in time to see theflash of her knife as she whirled to her victim. Again and again itdescended as the man, now submerged to the waist, caught her. Hisscreams of fear were curdling to the blood, but high above the Germanvoice of fear sounded the Indian voice of triumph, and from thevengeful cry of "Judas! Judas! Judas of the world!" her voice turnedsharply to the high clear chant Kit had heard in the hidden caņon ofthe red gold. It was as she said--there would be none of her caste andclan to sing her death song to the waiting ghosts, and she was singingit. As those weird triumphant calls went out from the place of death everyIndian answered them with shouts as of fealty, and in the darkness Kitfelt as if among a circle of wolves giving tongue in some signal notto be understood by men. He could hear the sobs of men and boys about him, but not a measure ofthat wild wail failed to bring the ever recurring response from thebrown throats. Marto, wet and trembling, cursed and prayed at the horror of it, andmoved close to Kit in the darkness. "Jesus, Maria, and José!" he muttered in a choked whisper, "one wouldthink the fathers of these devils had never been christened! _Sangrede Christo!_ look at that!" For in a vivid sheet of lightning they saw a terrible thing. Tula, on the shoulders of the man, stood up for one wavering instantand with both hands raised high, she flung something far out from herwhere the sands were firm for all but things of weight. Then her hightriumphant call ended sharply in the darkness as she cast herselfforward. She died as her sister had died, and on the same knife. Doņa Jocasta stumbled from a horse, and clung to Kit in terror. "Mother of God!" she sobbed. "It is as I said! She is the Eagle ofMexico, and she died clean--with the Serpent under her feet!" * * * * * In a dawn all silver and gold and rose after the storm, there was onlya trace at the edge of the sand where two horses had carried riders tothe treacherous smiling arroya over which a coyote would not cross. And one of the Indian women of Palomitas tied a _reata_ around thebody of her baby son, and sent him to creep out as a turtle creeps tothat thing cast by Tula to the women cheated of their Judas. The slender naked boy went gleefully to the task as to a new game, andspit in the dead face as he dragged it with him to his mother who hadpride in him. It was kicked before the women back over the desert to Soledad, andthe boys used it for football that day, and tied what was left of itbetween the horns of the roped wild bull at the corral. The bellowingof the bull when cut loose came as music to the again placid Indianwomen of Palomitas. They were ready for the home trail with theirexiles. It had been a good ending, and their great holiday at Soledadwas over. CHAPTER XXI EACH TO HIS OWN A straggling train of pack mules followed by a six-mule wagon, trailedpast Yaqui Springs ten days later, and was met there by the faithfulChappo and two villainous looking comrades, who had cleaned out thewater holes and stood guard over them until arrival of the ammunitiontrain. "For beyond is a dry hell for us, and on the other side the Delivereris circled by enemy fighters who would trap him in his own land. Helies hid like a fox in the hills waiting for this you bring. Watermust not fail, and mules must not fail; for that am I here to give theword for haste. " "But even forty mule loads will not serve him long, " said Kitdoubtfully. "Like a fox in the hills I tell you, Seņor Capitan, --and only one wayinto the den! Beyond the enemy he has other supplies safe--this is tofight his way to it. After that he will go like a blaze through drymeadows of zacatan. " Kit would have made camp there for the night, but Chappo protested. "No, seņor! Every drop in the sand here is for the mules of the army. It is not my word, it is the word of my general. Four hours north youwill find Little Coyote well. One day more and at the crossing of RioSeco, water will be waiting from the cold wells of La Partida. It isso arrange, seņor, and the safe trail is made for you and forexcellencia, the seņora. In God's name, take all your own, and go inpeace!" "But the seņora is weary to death, and----" "That is true, Capitan, " spoke Doņa Jocasta, who drooped in the saddlelike a wilted flower. "But the seņora will not die, and if she does itis not so much loss as the smallest of the soldiers of El Gavilan. Wewill go on, and go quickly, see!--there is yet water in the cantin, and four hours of trail is soon over. " Ugly Chappo came shyly forward and, uncovered, touched the hem of herskirt to his lips. "The high heart of the excellencia gives life to the men who fight, "he said and thrust his hand in a pocket fastened to his belt. "This isto you from the Deliverer, seņora. His message is that it brought tohim the lucky trail, and he would wish the same to the Doņa JocastaPerez. " It was the little cross, once sent back to her by a peon in bitternessof soul, and now sent by a general of Mexico with the blessing of asoldier. "Tell him Jocasta takes it as a gift of God, and his name is in herprayers, " she said and turned away. Clodomiro pushed forward, --a very different Clodomiro, for thefluttering bands of color were gone from his arms and his hair--theheart of the would-be bridegroom was no longer his. He was stripped asfor the trail or for war, and fastened to his saddle was the gun andammunition he had won from Cavayso who had gone quickly onward withhis detachment of the pack. But Clodomiro halted beside Chappo, regardless of need for haste onthe trail, and asked him things in that subdued Indian tone withoutlight, shade, or accent, in which the brown brothers of the desertveil their intimate discourse. "There, beyond!" said Chappo, "two looks on the trail, " and he pointedwest. "Two looks and one water hole, and if wind moves the sand no onecan find the way where we go. It is not a trail for boys. " "I am not now a boy, " said Clodomiro, "and when the safety trail ofthe seņora is over----" But Chappo waved him onward, for the wagon and the pack mules, andeven little gray Bunting had turned reluctant feet north. Clodomiro had come from Soledad because Elena, --who never had beenout of sight of the old adobe walls, --sat on the ground wailing atthought of leaving her old sick father and going to war, for despiteall the persuasions of Doņa Jocasta, Elena knew what she knew, and didnot at all believe that any of them would see the lands of theAmericano, --not with pack mules of Ramon Rotil laden with guns! "If Tula had lived, no other would have been asked, " Rhodes hadstated. "But one is needed to make camp for the seņora on thetrail, --and to me the work of the packs and the animals. " "That I can do, " Clodomiro offered. "My thought was to go where Tulasaid lovers of hers must go, and that was to El Gavilan. But thisdifferent thing can also be my work to the safe wells of the American. That far I go. " Thus the three turned north from the war trail, and Clodomirofollowed, after making a prayer that the desert wind would hear, andbe very still, and fill no track made by the mules with theammunition. This slight discussion at the parting of the ways concerning twodefinite things, --need of haste, and conserving of water, --left nomoment for thought or query of the packs of furnishings deemed of useto Seņora Perez in her removal to the north. Doņa Jocasta herself had asked no question and taken no interest inthem. Stripped of all sign of wealth and in chains, she had riddeninto Soledad, and in comfort and much courtesy she was being conductedelsewhere. How long it might endure she did not know, and no power ofhers could change the fact that she had been made wife of JoséPerez;--and at any turn of any road luck might again be with hiswishes, and her estate fall to any level he choose to enforce. At dusk they reached the Little Coyote well, and had joy to find waterfor night and morning, and greasewood and dead mesquite wood for afire. The night had turned chill and Clodomiro spread the _serape_ ofDoņa Jocasta over a heap of flowering greasewood branches. It was veryquiet compared with the other camps on the trail, and had a restfulair of comfort, and of that Jocasta spoke. "Always the fear is here, seņor, " she said touching her breast. "Allthe men and guns of Ramon Rotil did not make that fear go quiet. Every caņon we crossed I was holding my breath for fear of hidden menof José Perez! You did not see him in the land where he is strong; butmen of power are bound to him there in the south, and--against onewoman----" "Seņora, I do not think you have read the papers given to you by PadreAndreas to put with the others given by General Rotil, " was Kit'squiet comment. He glanced toward the well where the boy was dippingwater into a wicker bottle. "Have you?" "No, seņor, it is my permit to be passed safely by all the men ofRamon Rotil, " she said. "That I have not had need of. Also there isthe record that the American murder at Granados was the crime ofConrad. " "But, seņora, there is one other paper among them. --I would have toldyou yesterday if I had known your fear. I meant to wait until thetrail was ended, but----" "Seņor!" she breathed leaning toward him, her great eyes glowing withdreadful question, "_Seņor!_" "I know the paper, for I signed it, " said Kit staring in the leapingblaze. "So did the padre. It is the certificate of the burial of JoséPerez. " "Seņor! _Madre de Dios!_" she whispered. "Death reached him on his own land, seņora. We passed the grave thefirst day of the trail. " Her face went very white as she made the sign of the cross. "Then he--Ramon----?" "No, --the general did not see Perez on the trail. He tried to escapefrom Cavayso and the man sent a bullet to stop him. It was the end. " She shuddered and covered her eyes. Kit got up and walked away. He looked back from where he tethered themules for the night, but she had not moved. The little crucifix was inher hand, he thought she was praying. There were no more words to besaid, and he did not go near her again that night. He sent Clodomirowith her _serape_ and pillow, and when the fire died down to glowingash, she arose and went to the couch prepared. She went without glanceto right or left--the great fear had taken itself away! Clodomiro rolled himself in a _serape_ not far from her place of rest, but Kit Rhodes slept with the packs and with two guns beside him. Fromthe start on the trail no man had touched his outfit but himself. Hegrinned sometimes at thought of the favorable report the men of Rotilwould deliver to their chief, --for the Americano had taken allpersonal care of the packs and chests of Doņa Jocasta! He was as anowl and had no human need of sleep, and let no man help him. The trail to the caņon of the Rio Seco was a hard trail, and a longday, and night caught them ere they reached the rim of the dry washwhere, at long intervals, rain from the hills swept down its age-oldchannel for a brief hour. Doņa Jocasta, for the first time, had left the saddle and crept to therude couch afforded by the piled-up blankets in the wagon; Clodomirodrove; and Kit, with the mules, led the way. A little water still swished about in their water bottles, but notenough for the mules. He was more anxious than he dared betray, for itwas twenty miles to the lower well of La Partida, and if by anystroke of fortune Cap Pike had failed to make good--Cap was old, andliable to---- Then through the dusk of night he heard, quite near in the trailahead, a curious thing, the call of a bird--and not a night bird! It was a tremulous little call, and sent a thrill of such wild joythrough his heart that he drew back the mule with a sharp cruel jerk, and held his breath to listen. Was he going _loco_ from lack ofsleep, --lack of water, --and dreams of---- It came again, and he answered it as he plunged forward down abarranca and up the other side where a girl sat on a roan horse underthe stars:--his horse! also his girl! If he had entertained any doubts concerning the last--but he knew nowhe never had; a rather surprising fact considering that no word hadever been spoken of such ownership!--they would have been dispelled bythe way she slipped from the saddle into his arms. "Oh, and you didn't forget! you didn't forget!" she whimpered with herhead hidden against his breast. "I--I'm mighty glad of that. Neitherdid I!" "Why, Lark-child, you've been right alongside wherever I heard thatcall ever since I rode away, " he said patting her head and holding herclose. He had a horrible suspicion that she was crying, --girls weremysterious! "Now, now, now, " he went on with a comforting pat to eachword, "don't worry about anything. I'm back safe, though in big needof a drink, --and luck will come your way, and----" She tilted her cantin to him, and began to laugh. "But it has come my way!" she exulted. "O Kit, I can't keep it aminute, Kit--we did find that sheepskin!" "What? A sheepskin?" He had no recollection of a lost sheepskin. "Yes, Cap Pike and I! In the bottom of an old chest of daddy's! We'reall but crazy because it came just when we were planning to give upthe ranch if we had to, and now that you are here--!" her sentenceended in a happy sigh of utter content. "Sure, now that I'm here, " he assented amicably, "we'll stop all thatmoving business--_pronto_. That is if we live to get to water. What doyou know about any?" "Two barrels waiting for you, and Cap rustling firewood, but I heardthe wagon, and----" "Sure, " he assented again. "Into the saddle with you and we'll getthere. The folks are all right, but the cayuses----" A light began to blaze on the level above, and the mules, smellingwater, broke into a momentary trot and were herded ahead of the twowho followed more slowly, and very close together. Cap Pike left the fire to stand guard over the water barrels and shoothe mules away. "Look who's here?" he called waving his hat in salute. "The patriotsof Sonora have nothing on you when it comes to making collections ontheir native heath! I left you a poor devil with a runt of a burro, acripple, and an Indian kid, and you've bloomed out into a bloatedaristocrat with a batch of high-class army mules. And say, you're justin time, and you don't know it! We're in at last, by Je-rusalem, we're_in_!" Kit grinned at him appreciatively, but was too busy getting water toask questions. The wagon was rattling through the dry river bed andwould arrive in a few minutes, and the first mules had to be got outof the way. "You don't get it, " said Billie alongside of him. "He means war. We'rein!" "With Mexico? _Again?_" smiled Kit skeptically. "No--something real--helping France!" "No!" he protested with radiant eyes. "Me for it! Say, children, thisis some homecoming!" The three shook hands, all talking at once, and Kit and Billie forgotto let go. "Of course you know Cap swore an alibi for you against that suspicionConrad tried to head your way, " she stated a bit anxiously. "Youstayed away so long!" "Yes, yes, Lark-child, " he said reassuringly, "I know all that, and alot more. I've brought letters of introduction for the government tosome of Conrad's useful pacifist friends along the border. Don't youfret, Billie boy; the spoke we put in their wheel will overturn theirapplecart! The only thing worrying me just now, --beautifullest!--iswhether you'll wait for me till I enlist, get to France, do my stuntto help clean out the brown rats of the world, and come back home tomarry you. " "Yip-pee!" shrilled Pike who was slicing bacon into a skillet. "I'mgetting a line now on how you made your other collections!" Billie laughed and looked up at him a bit shyly. "I waited for you before without asking, and I reckon I can do itagain! I'm--I'm wonderfully happy--for I didn't want you to worry overcoming home broke--and----" "Whisper, Lark-child. _I'm not!_" "What?" "Whisper, I said, " and he put one hand over her mouth and led her overto the little gray burro. "Now, not even to Pike until we get home, Billie, --but I've come out alive with the goods, while every othersoul who knew went 'over the range'! Buntin' carries your share. Iknew you were sure to find the sheepskin map sooner or later, " he liedglibly, "but luck didn't favor me hanging around for it. I had to getit while the getting was good, but we three are partners for keeps, Buntin' is yours, and I'll divide with Pike out of the rest. " Billie touched the pack, tried to lift it, and stared. "You're crazy, Kit Rhodes!" "Too bad you've picked a crazy man to marry!" he laughed, and took offthe pack. "Seventy-five pounds in that. I've over three hundred. Lark-child, if you remember the worth of gold per ounce, I reckonyou'll see that there won't need to be any delay in clearing off theranch debts, --not such as you would notice! and maybe I might qualifyas a ranch hand when I come back, --even if I couldn't hold the job thefirst time. " "O Kit! O Cap! O me!" she whispered chantingly. "Don't you dare wakeme up, for I'm having the dream of my life!" But he caught her, drew her close and kissed her hair rumpled in thedesert wind. And as the wagon drew into the circle of light, that was the pictureDoņa Jocasta saw from the shadows of the covered wagon:--young love, radiant and unashamed! She stared at them a moment strangely in a sudden mist of tears, asClodomiro jumped down and arranged for her to alight. Cap Pike lookingup, all but dropped the coffeepot. "Some little collector--that boy!" he muttered, and then aloud, "You_Kit_!" Kit turned and came forward leading Billie, who suddenly developedpanic at vision of the most beautiful, tragic face she had ever seen. "Some collector!" murmured Cap Pike forgetting culinary operations tostare. "Shades of Sheba's queen!" But Kit, whose days and nights of Mesa Blanca and Soledad had ratherunfitted him for hasty adjustments to conventions, or standardizedsuspicion regarding the predatory male, held the little hand of Billievery tightly, and did not notice her gasp of amazement. He wentforward to assist Doņa Jocasta, whose hesitating half glance about heronly enhanced the wonder of jewel-green eyes whose beauty had beentheme of many a Mexic ballad. For these were the first Americanos she had ever met, and it was saidin the south that Americanos might be wild barbaros, --though the seņorof the songs---- The seņor of the songs reached his hand and made his best bow as henoted her sudden shrinking. "Here, Doņa Jocasta, are friends of good heart. We are now on the edgeof the lands of La Partida, and this little lady is its padronawaiting to give you welcome at the border. Folks, this is Seņora Perezwho has escaped from hell by help of the guns of El Gavilan. " "Doņa Jocasta!" repeated Cap Pike standing in amazed incredulity withthe forgotten skillet at an awkward angle dripping grease into thecamp fire, but his amazement regarding personality did not at allchange his mental attitude as to the probable social situation. "Somecollector, Brother, but hell in Sonora isn't the only hell you canblaze the trail to with the wrong combination!" Kit turned a silencing frown on the philosopher of the skillet, butBillie went toward the guest with outstretching hands. "Doņa Jocasta, oh!" she breathed as if one of her fairy tales ofbeauty had come true, and then in Spanish she added the sweet graciousold Castillian welcome, "Be at home with us on your own estate, SeņoraPerez. " Jocasta laid her hands on the shoulder of the girl, and looked in theclear gray eyes. "You are Spanish, Seņorita?" "My grandmother was. " "Thanks to the Mother of God that you are not a strange Americana!"sighed Jocasta in sudden relief. Then she turned to her Americancourier and guard and salvation over the desert trails. "I saw, " she said briefly. "She is as the young sister of me who--whois gone to God! Make yourself her guard forever, Don Pajarito. May yousing many songs together, and have no sorrows. " After the substantial supper, Kit heard at first hand all the veiledsuspicion against himself as voiced in the fragment of old newspaperwrapped around Fidelio's tobacco, and he and Doņa Jocasta spread outthe records written by the padre, and signed by Jocasta and theothers, as witness of how Philip Singleton met death in the arroya ofthe cottonwoods. "It is all here in this paper, " said Jocasta, "and that is best. I cantell the alcalde, yes, but if an--an accident had come to me on thetrail, the words on the paper would be the safer thing. " "But fear on the trail is gone for you now, " said Kit smiling at heracross the camp fire. Neither of them had said any word of life atMesa Blanca or Soledad, or of the work of Tula at the death. The German had strangled a priest, and escaped, and in ignorance oftrails had ridden into a quicksand, and that was all the outer worldneed know of his end! The fascinated eyes of Billie dwelt on Jocasta with endless wonder. "And you came north with the guns and soldiers of Ramon Rotil, --howwonderful!" she breathed. "And if the newspapers tell the truth Ireckon he needs the guns all right! Cap dear, where is that one JoséOrtego rode in with from the railroad as we were leaving La Partida?" "In my coat, Honey. You go get it--you are younger than thisold-timer. " Jocasta followed Billie with her eyes, though she had not understoodthe English words between them. It was not until the paper wasunfolded with an old and very bad photograph of Ramon Rotil staringfrom the front page that she whispered a prayer and reached out herhand. The headline to the article was only three words in heavy typeacross the page: "Trapped at last!" But the words escaped her, and that picture of him in the old dayswith the sombrero of a peon on his head and his audacious eyes smilingat the world held her. No picture of him had ever before come her way;strange that it should be waiting for her there at the border! The Indian boy at sight of it, stepped nearer, and stood a few pacesfrom her, looking down. "It calls, " he said. It was the first time he had spoken except to make reply sinceentering the American camp. Doņa Jocasta frowned at him and he moved alittle apart, leaning, --a slender dark, semi-nude figure, against thegreen and yellow mist of a palo verde tree, --listening with downcasteyes. Doņa Jocasta looked from the pictured face to the big black lettersabove. "Is it a victorious battle, for him?" she asked and Kit hesitated tomake reply, but Billie, not knowing reason for silence, blurted outthe truth even while her eyes were occupied by another column. "Not exactly, seņora. But here is something of real interest to you, something of Soledad--oh, I _am_ sorry!" "What does it say, --Soledad?" "See!--I forgot you don't know the English!" * * * * * Troops from the south to rescue Don José Perez from El Gavilan atSoledad turn guns on that survival of old mission days, and level itto the ground. Soledad was suspected as an ammunition magazine for thebandit chief, and it is feared Seņor Perez is held in the mountainsfor ransom, as no trace of him has been found. * * * * * "Now you've done it, " remarked Kit, and Billie turned beseeching eyeson the owner of Soledad, and repeated miserably--"I _am_ so sorry!" But Doņa Jocasta only lifted her head with a certain disdain, andveiled the emerald eyes slightly. "So!" she murmured with a shrug of the shoulder. "It is then a bandithe is called in the words of the American newspaper?" Cap Pike not comprehending the rapid musical Spanish, leaned forwardfishing for a coal to light his pipe, noting her voice and watchingher eyes. "There you have it already!" he muttered to Kit. "All velvet, and madas hell!" Billie, much bewildered, turned to Kit as for help, but the slenderhand of Doņa Jocasta reached out pointing to the headlines. "And--this?" she said coldly. "It is, you say, not victorious forRamon Rotil, that--bandit?" "It says, seņora, " hesitated Billie, "that he is hid in the hills, and----" "That we know, " stated Doņa Jocasta, "what other thing?" "'He has a wound and was carried by his men to one of his retreats, ahidden place, '" read Billie slowly, translating into Spanish as shewent on. "That is all except that the Federals had to retreattemporarily because a storm caused trouble and washed out a bridgeover which their ammunition train has to go. The place of the accidentis very bad. Timber and construction engineers are being rushed toservice there, but for a few days luck is with the Hawk. " "So!--For a few days!" repeated Doņa Jocasta in the cool sweet voice. "In a few days Ramon Rotil could cross Mexico. He is El Gavilan!" Things were coming too fast for Billie. She regarded the serenity ofDoņa Jocasta with amazement, and tried to imagine how she would feelif enemy guns battered down the old walls of Granados, or--thought ofterror--if Kit should be held in the hills and tortured for ransom! "Speaking of floods, " remarked Pike in amiable desire to bridge overan awkward pause, "we've used half the water we brought, and need tomake a bright and early start tomorrow. Rio Seco is no garden spot toget caught in short of water. Our La Partida mules are fresh asdaisies right off a month of range, but yours sure look as if they hadmade the trip. " "What does he say, --the old seņor?" asked Doņa Jocasta. Billie translated for her, whereupon she arose and summoned Clodomiroby a gesture. "My bed, " she said briefly, "over there, " and she indicated a thicketof greasewood the wagon had passed on their arrival. "Also this firstnight of safety you will be the sentinel to keep guard that SeņorRhodes may at last have sleep. All the danger trail he had none. " Cap Pike protested that he do guard duty, but the smile of DoņaJocasta won her way. "He is younger and not weary, seņor. It is good for him, and itpleases me, " she said. "The camp is yours, " he agreed weakly, and against his betterjudgment. He did not like Indians who were like "sulky slim brown dumbsnakes"; that was what he muttered when he looked at Clodomiro. In hisirritation at the Indian's silence it didn't even occur to him that henever had known any snakes but dumb ones. But if the voice of Clodomiro was uncannily silent, his eyes spoke forhim as they followed Doņa Jocasta. Kit could only think of a lost, homesick dog begging for the scent of the trail to his own kennel. Hesaid so to Billie as he made her bed in the camp wagon. "Cap and I will be right here at the hind wheels, " he promised. "Yes, --sure, I'll let the Indian ride herd for the night. Doņa Jocastais right, it's his turn, and we seem to have passed the danger line. " "Knock wood!" cautioned Billie. So he rapped his head with his knuckles, and they laughed together asyoung happy things do at trifles. Then he stretched himself for sleepunder the stars and almost within arm's reach of the girl--the girlwho had ridden to meet him in the night, the wonderful girl who hadpromised to wait until he came back from France . . . Of course he couldget into the army _now_! They would need men too badly to turn himdown again. If there was a trifle of discrepancy in sight of hiseyes--which he didn't at all believe--he had the dust now, also thenuggets, to buy any and all treatment to adjust _that_ little matter. He had nearly four hundred pounds, aside from giving all he dared giveat once as Tula's gift to those women of the slave raid. After thewar was over he would find ways of again crossing over to the greattreasure chest in the hidden caņon. The little information Pike hadmanaged to convey to him about that sheepskin map told him that themost important indications had been destroyed during those years ithad been buried for safe-keeping. The only true map in existence wasthe one in his own memory, --no use to tell Pike and Billie that! Hecould leave them in comfort and content, and when he got back fromFrance--He wondered how long it would last--the war. Hadn't thegreatest of Americans tried three years ago to hammer the fact intothe alleged brain pans of the practical politicians that the soonerthe little old United States made guns, and ships, and flying machinesfor _herself_, the sooner she could help end that upheaval of hell inEurope?. . . And they wouldn't listen! Listen?--They brought every ounceof influence they could round up to silence those facts, --theeternally condemned ostriches sticking their own heads in the sand toblind the world to the situation! Now they were in, and he wondered ifthey had even ten rounds of ammunition for the cartridge belts of thefew trained soldiers in service? They had not had even three roundsfor the showy grand review attempted in Texas not long since; also thetransportation had been a joke, some of the National Guards started, but never did arrive--and France was a longer trail than Texas. God!they should be ready to fight as the French were ready, in twelvehours--and it would have to be months--a long unequal hell for a timeover there, but only one finish, and the brown rats driven back totheir den! After that the most wonderful girl would--would--would---- Then all the sleep due him on the sleepless trail settled over himlike a net weighted, yet very caressing, and the world war and thewonderful girl drifted far away! Beyond, on the other side of the fire, and out of the circle of light, Clodomiro bore the _serape_ of Doņa Jocasta, and made clear the placefor her couch. She had returned to the light of the fire and wasscanning again the annoying paper of the Americanos. Especially thatremembered face of the audacious eyes. They were different eyes inthese latter days, level and cynical, and sometimes cruel. "He calls, " said Clodomiro again beside her. She had not heard him, and turned in anger that he dare startle her. "Who does he call?" she asked irritably tossing aside the paper. "All Mexico, I think. All Mexico's heart, " and he touched his breast. "Me, I do not sleep. I do your work and when the end of the trail isyours, I ask, Excellencia, that you send me back that I find himagain, --the Deliverer!" "What did Ramon Rotil ever do for you that you fret like a chainedcoyote because his enemies are strong?" "Not anything, Excellencia. Me, he would not know if I told him myname, but--he is the Deliverer who will help the clans. Also, _she_would go, --Tula. _Sangre de Christo!_ there would be no chain strongenough to hold her back if his wounds cried for help. " "If--his wounds cried for help!" repeated Doņa Jocasta mechanically. "It is true, Excellencia, El Gavilan was giving help to many people inthe lands he crossed. Now the many will forget, and like a hawk withthe weight of an arrow in his breast he will fly alone to a high nestof the hills. Death will nest with him there some night or some day, Excellencia. And the many will forget. " "Quiet you!" ordered Doņa Jocasta angrily. Abashed, Clodomiro went silent, and with a murmured apology tookhimself into the shadows. She lifted the pictured face barely discernible now in the diminishedlight. "And--the many will forget!" she repeated irritably. "The boy has thetruth of it, but if _she_ had lived, so terribly wicked, --so lost ofGod, I wonder if----" She lifted her face looking up at the still stars as if for light on athought, then flung her hands out despairingly and turned away to thecouch by the green bush of fragrant yellow bloom. But not to sleep. Long after the Americanos were wrapped in slumber alittle blaze sent glimmer of light through the undergrowth, and shesaw Clodomiro stretched beside the fire. He had tossed a bit ofgreasewood on the coals that he might again study the face of ElGavilan. She had heard him say that if no desert wind lifted the sand he couldfollow to that hidden nest of the Hawk. It was very dark now exceptfor glimmer of stars through lacy, slow-drifting clouds, --there was nowind. Later there would be a waning moon! Much of every waking lifeis a dream, and her dreams were of the No Man's Land of thedesert, --the waterless trail from which she had been rescued forpeace! Twice during the night Kit roused from the depths sufficiently torealize that sleep is one of the greatest gifts to man. Once Clodomirowas stretched by the little fire inspecting the paper he could notread, the second time he thought Baby Bunting was nosing around tryingto get close to human things. Both times he reached out his hands tothe precious packs beside which he slept on the trail. All were safe, and he drifted again into a great ocean of slumber. He was wakened at dawn by the voice of Cap Pike, keyed high for anultra display of profanity. "By the jumping Je-hosophat, I knew it!" he shrilled. "That's yourlatest collection, begod! I hoped he wouldn't, and knew he would! Theall-firedest finest pair of mules on Granados, and every water bag inthe outfit! Can you beat it?" At the first shout Kit jumped to his feet, his eyes running rapidlyover his pack saddle outfit. All was safe there, and as Billie liftedher head and looked at him drowsily over the edge of the wagon bed herealized that in the vital things of life all was well with hisworld. "Let Sheba run your camp, and run it to hell, will you?" went on CapPike accusingly. He was thrashing around among the growth back ofthe Soledad outfit wagon where the mules had been tethered. "Two--four--six, and Baby Buntin'--yes sir! Lit out by the dark ofthe moon, and left neither hide nor hair, --" "Oh, be reasonable, Cap!" protested Kit. "Buntin' isn't gone--she'sright alongside here, waiting for breakfast. " "You're shoutin' she's here; so is every dragged-to-death skate youhit camp with! It's Billie's crackerjack mules, the pick of the ranch, that the bare-legged greasy heathen hit the trail with! And everywater bag!" "Well, " decided Kit, verifying the water statement by a glance at thebarrels, "no one is to blame. The boy didn't want to come this trail. He stuck until we were over the rough of it, and then he cut loose. Apair of mules isn't so bad. " "Now, of course not!" agreed Cap sarcastically. "A mere A-number-onepair of mules belonging to another fellow is only a flea bite to offera visitor for supper! Well, all _I_ got to say----" "Don't say it, Cap dear, " suggested Billie. "The Indian was herebecause of Doņa Jocasta, and _she_ can't help it! As she doesn'tunderstand English, she'll probably think you're murdering some of usover here. Whist now, and put your muzzle on! We'll get home withoutthe two mules. I'll go and tell her that the hysterics is your way ofoffering morning prayers!" She slipped away, laughing at his protests, but when a little past thefire place she halted, standing very still, peering beyond atsomething on the ground under the greasewood where the _serape_ ofDoņa Jocasta had been spread. No _serape_ or sleeper was there! Kit noted her startled pause, and in a few strides was beside her;then, without a word, the two went forward together and he picked upthe package of papers laid carefully under the greasewood. He knewwithout opening them what they were, --the records made for her safety, and for his, in Soledad, place of tragedies. "They are the papers I was to put on record for her in case--Well, I'll do it, and you'll take care of the copies for her, Billie, and--and do your best for the girl if a chance ever comes. We owe hera lot more than she will ever guess, --our gold come out of Mexicounder the guard arranged for her, and when I come back----" "But Kit, " protested Billie, "to think of her alone with that thievingIndian! He took flour and bacon too! And if she hopes to find herhusband----" "She doesn't, " concluded Kit thoughtfully turning over the certificatesigned by the padre and him, of the husband's safe burial in the sandsof Soledad. He glanced at Billie in doubt. One never knew how safe itwas to tell things, --some things, --to a woman; also Billie was soenchanted by Jocasta's sad beauty, and---- "No, I reckon she doesn't hope much along that line. She has probablygone back to the wilderness for another reason, --one I never suspecteduntil last night. And Lark-child, we won't talk about that, not atleast till I return from the 'back of beyond' over there, " and hepointed eastward where shafts of copper light touched the gray veil ofthe morning. After his first explosion of amazement Cap Pike regarded theelopement, as he called it, very philosophically, considering hisdisgust over lost mules and flour and bacon. "What did I tell you right here last night?" he demanded of Kit. "Softas velvet and hard as hell, --that's what I said! She looks to me likea cross between a saint in a picture frame and a love bird in a tree, and her eyes! Yet after all no man can reckon on that blood, --she isonly a girl of the hills down there, and the next we hear of hershe'll likely be leaden' a little revolution of her own. " The young chap made no reply, but busied himself hastening a scantbreakfast in order that the worn mules be got to water before theworst heat of a dry day. Also the losses to the culinary outfit didmake problems for the trip. Cap eyed him askance for a space, and then with a chuckle wilfullymisconstrued his silence and lowered his tone. "I don't blame you for feeling downhearted on your luck, Bub, for shesure was a looker! But it's all in a lifetime, and as you ramble alongin years, you'll find that most any hombre can steal them, and takethem home, but when it comes to getting a permanent clinch on thefemale affections----" Billie, who was giving a short ration of water to the burro, calledacross to ask what Kit was laughing at in that hilarious way. She alsostated that she did not think it a morning for hilarity, not at all!That wonderful, beautiful, mystery woman might be going to her death! After the packs were all on, Cap Pike swung the mules of the firstwagon into the home trail and passed over the mesa singing rakishly. _Oh-h! Biddy McGee has been after me, Since I've been in the army!_ And Billie turned in the saddle to take a last look over the trailwhere the woman of the emerald eyes had passed in the night. "All my life I have looked, and looked into the beautiful mirages ofthe south desert wondering what would come out of it--and _she_ wasthe answer, " she said, smiling at Kit. "Tomorrow I'll feel as if itwas all a dream, all but the wonderful red gold, and you! Some fineday we'll take a little _pasear_ down there, I'll follow that dreamtrail, and----" "You will not!" decided the chosen of her heart with rude certainty. "The dreams of that land of mirages are likely to breed nightmares. You are on the right side of the border for women to stay. Our oldAmerican eagle is a pretty safe bird to roost with. " "Well, " debated the only girl, "if it comes to that, Mexico also hasthe eagle, and had it first!" "Yes, contrary child, " he conceded, herding the mules into line, "soit has, --but the eagle of Mexico is still philandering with a helmetedserpent. Wise gamblers reserve their bets on that game, we can onlyhope that the eagle fights its way free!"