his head, but showing no emotion in his swarthy, sallow, haggard
countenance.

Although Thurstane trusted that danger from that quarter was over, he
nevertheless called Meyer aside and muttered to him, "Sergeant, I have
some confidential orders for you. If murder happens to me, or to any other
person in this party, have that Texan shot immediately."

"I will addend to it, Leftenant," replied Meyer with perfect calmness and
with his mechanical salute.

"You may give Kelly the same instructions, confidentially."

"Yes, Leftenant."

Texas Smith, fifteen or twenty yards away, watched this dialogue with an
interest which even his Indian-like stoicism could hardly conceal. When
the sergeant returned to the cooking-fire, he gave him a glance which was
at once watchful and deprecatory, made place for him to sit down on a junk
of adobe, and offered him a corn-shuck cigarito. Meyer took it, saying,
"Thank you, Schmidt," and the two smoked in apparently amicable silence.

Nevertheless, Texas knew that his doom was sealed if murder should occur
in the expedition; for, as to the protection of Coronado, he did not
believe that that could avail against the uniform; and as to finding
safety in flight, the cards there were evidently "stocked agin him."
Indeed, what had quelled him more than anything else was the fear lest he
should be driven out to take his luck among the Apaches. Suppose that
Thurstane had taken a fancy to swap him for that girl Pepita? What a
bright and cheerful fire there would have been for him before sundown! How
thoroughly the skin would have been peeled off his muscles! What neat
carving at his finger joints and toe joints! Coarse, unimaginative,
hardened, and beastly as Texas Smith was, his flesh crawled a little at
the thought of it. Presently it struck him that he had better do something
to propitiate a man who could send him to encounter such a fate.

"Sergeant," he said in his harsh, hollow croak of a voice.

"Well, Schmidt?"

"Them creeturs oughter browse outside."

"So. You are right, Schmidt."

"If the Capm'll let me have three good men, I'll take 'em out."

Meyer's light-blue eyes, twinkling from under his sandy eyelashes, studied
the face of the outlaw.

"I should zay it was a goot blan, Schmidt," he decided. "I'll mention it
to the leftenant."

Thurstane, on being consulted, gave his consent. Meyer detailed Shubert
and two of the Mexican cattle-drivers to report to Smith for duty. The