eir needs. A thorough old campaigner. A man to be relied
on in emergency--a man to be appreciated.

In two hours everything was in readiness, Tresler contenting himself
with a reassuring message to Diane through the medium of Joe.

They rode off. Jezebel was on her good behavior, and Arizona's mount
kept up with her fast walk by means of his cowhorse amble. As they
came to the ford, Tresler drew up and dismounted, and the other
watched him while he produced a wicker-covered glass flask from his
pocket.

"What's that?" he asked. "Rye?"

Tresler shook his head, and tried the metal screw cap.

"No," he replied shortly.

Then he leant over the water and carefully set the bottle floating,
pushing it out as far as possible with his foot while he supported
himself by the overhanging bough of a tree. Then he stood watching it
carried slowly amid-stream. Presently the improvised craft darted out
with a rush into the current, and swept onward with the main flow of
the water. Then he returned and remounted his impatient mare.

"That," he said, as they rode on, "is a message. Fyles's men are down
the river spying out the land, and, incidentally, waiting to hear from
me. The message I've sent them is a request for assistance at Willow
Bluff. I have given them sound reason, which Fyles will understand."

Arizona displayed considerable astonishment, which found expression in
a deprecating avowal.

"Say, I guess I'm too much o' the old hand. I didn't jest think o'
that."

It was all he vouchsafed, but it said a great deal. And the thin face
and wild eyes said more.

Now they rode on in silence, while they followed the wood-lined trail
along the river. The shade was delightful, and the trail sufficiently
sandy to muffle the sound of the horses' hoofs and so leave the
silence unbroken. There was a faint hum from the insects that haunted
the river, but it was drowsy, soft, and only emphasized the perfect
sylvan solitude. After a while the trail left the river and gently
inclined up to the prairie level. Then the bush broke and became
scattered into small bluffs, and a sniff of the bracing air of the
plains brushed away the last odor of the redolent glades they were
leaving.

It was here that Arizona roused himself. He was of the prairie,
belonging to the prairie. The woodlands depressed him, but the prairie
made him expansive.

"Seems to me, Tresler, you're kind o' takin' a heap o' chances--mostly
onnes'ary. Meanin' ther