"So long, old man," said Billy. "If I'm goin' to be of any help to you
and Mig the less I'm seen with you the better. I'll blow over and mix
with the Dago bunch, an' practice sittin' on my heels. It seems to be
the right dope down here, an' I got to learn all I can about bein' a
greaser seein' that I've turned one."

"Good-bye Billy, remember Rio," said Bridge.

"And the revolvers, senor," added Miguel.

"You bet," replied Billy, and strolled off in the direction of the
little circle of cigarette smokers.

As he approached them Rozales looked up and smiled. Then, rising,
extended his hand.

"Senor Captain," he said, "we welcome you. I am Captain Rozales." He
hesitated waiting for Billy to give his name.

"My monacker's Byrne," said Billy. "Pleased to meet you, Cap."

"Ah, Captain Byrne," and Rozales proceeded to introduce the newcomer to
his fellow-officers.

Several, like Rozales, were educated men who had been officers in
the army under former regimes, but had turned bandit as the safer
alternative to suffering immediate death at the hands of the faction
then in power. The others, for the most part, were pure-blooded Indians
whose adult lives had been spent in outlawry and brigandage. All were
small of stature beside the giant, Byrne. Rozales and two others spoke
English. With those Billy conversed. He tried to learn from them the
name of the officer who was to command the escort that was to accompany
Bridge and Miguel into the valley on the morrow; but Rozales and the
others assured him that they did not know.

When he had asked the question Billy had been looking straight at
Rozales, and he had seen the man's pupils contract and noticed the
slight backward movement of the body which also denotes determination.
Billy knew, therefore, that Rozales was lying. He did know who was to
command the escort, and there was something sinister in that knowledge
or the fellow would not have denied it.

The American began to consider plans for saving his friend from the fate
which Pesita had outlined for him. Rozales, too, was thinking rapidly.
He was no fool. Why had the stranger desired to know who was to command
the escort? He knew none of the officers personally. What difference
then, did it make to him who rode out on the morrow with his friend? Ah,
but Miguel knew that it would make a difference. Miguel had spoken to
the new captain, and aroused his suspicions.

Rozales excused himself and rose. A moment later h