oes not know, but I know. I
am of the blood to know. You will take him there, for it is a medicine
place, much medicine! He has said it to you, senor, and that gift is
great. You will come, alone,--with us, senor?"

Kit smiled at her entreaty, patted her hair, and dug out a worn deck
of cards and shuffled them, slowly regarding the sleeping Indian the
while.

"What's on your mind?" demanded Cap Pike, returning with his white
locks dripping from a skimpy bath. "Our grub stake is about gone, and
you've doubled the outfit. What's the next move?"

"I'm playing a game in futures with Miguel," stated Kit, shuffling the
cards industriously.

"Sounds loco to me, Bub," observed the veteran. "Present indications
are not encouraging as to futures there. Can't you see that he's got a
jar from which his mind isn't likely to recover? Not crazy, you know,
not a lunatic or dangerous, but just jarred from Pima man back to
Yaqui child. That's about the way I reckon it."

"You reckon right, and it's the Yaqui child mind I'm throwing the
cards for. Best two out of three wins."

"What the----"

"Highest cards for K. Rhodes, and I hike across the border with our
outfit; highest cards for Miguel and my trail is blazed for the red
gold of Alisal. This is Miguel's hand--ace high for Miguel!"

Again he shuffled and cut.

"A saucy queen, and red at that! Oh, you charmer!"

"You got to hustle to beat that, Bub. Go on, don't be stingy."

Rhodes cut the third time, then stared and whistled.

"The cards are stacked by the Indian! All three covered with war
paint. What's the use in a poor stray white bucking against that?"

He picked out the cards and placed them side by side, ace, king and
queen of hearts.

"Three aces could beat them," suggested Pike. "Go on Bub, shuffle them
up, don't be a piker."

Rhodes did, and cut ten of clubs.

"Not even the right color," he lamented. "Nothing less than two aces
for salvation, and I--don't--get--them!"

A lonely deuce fell on the sand, and Rhodes eyed it sulkily as he
rolled a cigarette.

"You poor little runt," he apostrophized the harmless two-spot.
"You've kicked me out of the frying pan into the fire, and a good
likely blaze at that!"

"Don't reckon I care to go any deeper into trouble than what we've
found," decided Pike. "Ordinary Indian scraps are all in the day's
work--same with a Mexican outfit--but, Bub, this slave-hunting graft
game with the state soldiery doing the raiding