grim with hate for the gringo, he rode stolidly, praying incoherently
that the gunman might be stricken dead as he rode.

The raw edge of the disappearing sun leveled a long flame of crimson
across the mesa. The crimson melted to gold. The gold paled to a brief
twilight. A faint star twinkled in the north.

Dogs crowded forward in the dusk, challenging the strange riders. A
figure filled the lighted doorway of the Armigo ranch-house. The dogs
drew back.

Ramon dismounted and helped his uncle down. Waring sat his horse until
Juan Armigo stepped from the doorway and asked who came. Waring answered
with his name.

"Si! Si!" exclaimed Armigo. "The señor is welcome."

Waring dismounted. "Juan, I have two of your friends here; José Vaca and
Ramon Ortego."

Armigo seemed surprised. "José Vaca is wounded?" he queried
hesitatingly.

Waring nodded.

"And the horses; they shall have feed, water, everything--I myself--"

"Thanks. But I'll look after the horses, Juan. I'm taking Vaca and Ramon
to Sonora. See what you can do for Vaca. He's pretty sick."