uane
watching and waiting. Toward sundown Stevens awoke, and his eyes seemed
clearer. Duane went to get some fresh water, thinking his comrade would
surely want some. When he returned Stevens made no sign that he wanted
anything. There was something bright about him, and suddenly Duane
realized what it meant.

"Pard, you--stuck--to me!" the outlaw whispered.

Duane caught a hint of gladness in the voice; he traced a faint surprise
in the haggard face. Stevens seemed like a little child.

To Duane the moment was sad, elemental, big, with a burden of mystery he
could not understand.

Duane buried him in a shallow arroyo and heaped up a pile of stones
to mark the grave. That done, he saddled his comrade's horse, hung the
weapons over the pommel; and, mounting his own steed, he rode down the
trail in the gathering twilight.

CHAPTER IV

Two days later, about the middle of the forenoon, Duane dragged the
two horses up the last ascent of an exceedingly rough trail and found
himself on top of the Rim Rock, with a beautiful green valley at his
feet, the yellow, sluggish Rio Grande shining in the sun, and the great,
wild, mountainous barren of Mexico stretching to the south.

Duane had not fallen in with any travelers. He had taken the
likeliest-looking trail he had come across. Where it had led him he had
not the slightest idea, except that here was the river, and probably the
inclosed valley was the retreat of some famous outlaw.

No wonder outlaws were safe in that wild refuge! Duane had spent the
last two days climbing the roughest and most difficult trail he had ever
seen. From the looks of the descent he imagined the worst part of his
travel was yet to come. Not improbably it was two thousand feet down to
the river. The wedge-shaped valley, green with alfalfa and cottonwood,
and nestling down amid the bare walls of yellow rock, was a delight and
a relief to his tired eyes. Eager to get down to a level and to find a
place to rest, Duane began the descent.

The trail proved to be the kind that could not be descended slowly. He
kept dodging rocks which his horses loosed behind him. And in a short
time he reached the valley, entering at the apex of the wedge. A stream
of clear water tumbled out of the rocks here, and most of it ran into
irrigation-ditches. His horses drank thirstily. And he drank with that
fullness and gratefulness common to the desert traveler finding sweet
water. Then he mounted and rode down