Ricardo and his son burst out of the brush from opposite directions
almost at the same moment, to find the Ranger with his face buried in
his horse's mane.

"Caramba! What is this?" The old man flung himself from the saddle and
came running. "You are injured?"

Pedro, too, bent over the officer, his brown face pale with
apprehension. "Mother of God!" breathed the latter. "It was a wild
thing to do, to ride alone---"

"I'm all right," Law said, rising stiffly, whereupon both Mexicans
voiced their relief.

"The saints be praised!"

"Si! What happened? There was a shot! Did you see nothing?"

Law jerked his head in the direction of the fallen man at his back, and
Pedro uttered a loud cry.

"Look!" Father and son ran through the grass, then recoiled and broke
into a jargon of oaths and exclamations.

Law followed them with his eyes. "Is he dead?" he inquired, coldly.

"God! Yes."

"Right in the mouth! The fellow was in hell before he realized it."

"See! It is as we thought, Pedro; one of Lewis's! Tse! Tse! Tse! What a
sight!"

"Who is he?" queried the officer.

"Pino Garza, one of the worst!" chimed the two Guzmans.

Ricardo was dancing in his excitement. "I told you that Lewis knew
something. The other one got past me, but he rode like the devil, and I
cannot shoot like--this."

"Wait!" exclaimed Pedro. "This is beyond my understanding. I heard but
one shot from here, then after an instant my father's gun. And yet here
is a dead horse and a dead man."

"This fellow and I fired at about the same instant," Dave explained,
but even when he had related the history of the encounter his
companions could scarcely believe that such quick shooting was possible.

It was difficult to secure a connected story from Ricardo, but he
finally made it plain that at the first report the other thief had
fled, exposing himself only long enough for the old man to take a quick
shot in his direction. Ricardo had missed, and the miscreant was
doubtless well away by this time. He had ridden a sorrel horse, that
was all Ricardo could remember.

Law looked only briefly at the gruesome results of his marksmanship,
then he turned back to the body of his beloved mare. Ricardo noticed at
length that he was crying; as the Ranger knelt beside the dead
thoroughbred the old Mexican whispered to his son:

"Valgame Dios! This is a strange fellow. He weeps like a woman. He must
have loved that horse as a man loves his wife. Who can und