chess-player. And because he had to count upon possibilities far ahead
he drew Ramon's saddle to him and cut the stirrup-leathers, cinchas, and
latigos. If Ramon got one of their horses, his own jaded animal would be
left. Eventually the rurales would find the saddle and Ramon's horse.
And every rural out of the riding would be a factor in their escape.

The sun blazed down until the pocket of rock was a pit of stagnant
heat. The silence seemed like an ocean rolling in soundless waves across
the hills; a silence that became disturbed by a faint sound as of one
approaching cautiously. Waring thought Ramon had shown cleverness in
working up to him so quietly. He raised on his elbow and turned his
head. On the eastern edge of the pocket stood a rural, and the rural
smiled.




Chapter VI


_Arizona_

Waring, who had known the man in Sonora, called him by name. The other's
smile faded, and his eyes narrowed. Waring thrust up his hands and
jokingly offered to toss up a coin to decide the issue. He knew his man;
knew that at the first false move the rural would kill him. He rose and
turned sideways that the other might take his gun. "You win the throw,"
he said. The Mexican jerked Waring's gun from the holster and cocked it.
Then he whistled.