t here. My husband
is close at hand. If you do not leave us, I'll call him. He will protect
us from you."

"Pardon, senyorita," said Carker, also speaking in Spanish. "Permit me to
offer my protection. I will see that this man gives neither you nor
Senyorita Garcia further annoyance."

He rose and placed himself squarely before Murillo.

The Mexican glared fiercely at Greg.

"Gringo dog!" he sneered. "Who are you that offers your protection to
these ladies?"

"I am their friend, senyor, and the friend of Mrs. Gallup's husband.
It'll be a good thing for you if you move along and move at once."

Murillo laughed.

"You miserable gringo!" he exclaimed. "Do you think you can frighten me?
Do you think you can drive me away with words? I have followed that girl
a very long distance. She belongs to me by the promise of her father.
She cannot run away from me! I will have her!"

"Look here, Senyor Murillo," retorted Greg quietly, "if you don't move
along, I'll throw you out of that window!"

The Mexican fell back, and his hand was thrust into his bosom.

"Touch me, and you'll regret it!" he hissed, keeping his black eyes
fastened on Carker.

"Is it a knife or a pistol you have in your hand?" questioned Greg
quietly. "I know you've reached for one or the other. All the same I'll
make good by throwing you out of the window if you don't pass on!"

Teresa grasped Carker's arm and whispered in his ear:

"Wait! Here come the boyees!"

Ephraim and Barney were returning from the smoking compartment. The
moment they saw Murillo they hurried forward, realizing that something
unpleasant was taking place. Gallup uttered a cry of exasperation as he
recognized the Mexican.

"Look here, Barney," he exclaimed, "here's old Wan! Consarn his pate,
he's followed Juanita!"

"Begorra, we'll have to soak the persistint gint in the neck!" burst
from the young Irishman.

Murillo backed away a bit, and his hand came forth from his bosom. It
grasped a small shining revolver.

"Touch me, you gringo curs, and I'll keel you!" he threatened.

A stalky, broad-shouldered young man, wearing a broad-brimmed Stetson
hat, came down the aisle behind the Mexican. There was a certain breezy,
Western air about this broad-hatted stranger. He gave one sharp look at
Murillo, and a moment later he had the threatening Mexican in a grip of
iron. One of the stranger's hands shot over Murillo's shoulder and
grasped the revolver, turning the muzzle towa