green ahead; that'll likely be Badger Springs."

Assured they were beyond pursuit, the two unsaddled, and turned the
ponies out to crop the few handfuls of wire grass which the sweet water
bubbling up from a slight depression had coaxed into stunted growth.
There was no wood to be had, although they found evidence of several
camp-fires, and consequently they were obliged to content themselves
with what they could find eatable in their bag. It was hardly a
satisfying meal, and their surroundings did not tend toward a joyful
spirit. Except for a few sentences neither spoke, until Brennan,
having partially satisfied his appetite, produced the note given him by
Miss La Rue, and deliberately slashed open the sealed envelope.

"In the name of the law," he said grimly, hauling out the enclosure.
"Now we'll see what's the row. Holy smoke! it's in Spanish! Here,
Jim, do you read that lingo?"

"I know words here and there," and Westcott bent over the paper, his
brows wrinkling. "Let's see, it's not quite clear, but the sense is
that Mendez will be paid a thousand dollars for something--I can't make
out what, only it has to do with prisoners. Lacy says he'll be there
to confer with him some time to-night."

"Where? At Sunken Valley?"

"The place is not mentioned."

"Lacy write it?"

"Yes; at least he signed it; there's a message there about cattle, too,
but I can't quite make it out."

"Well, we don't care about that. If Lacy aims to meet Mendez to-night,
he ought to be along here soon after nightfall. How'd it do to hide in
these sand-hills, and wait?"

"We can do that, Dan, if we don't hit any trail," said Westcott,
leaning over, his hand on the other's knee, "but if we can get there
earlier, I'd rather not waste time. There's no knowing what a devil
like Mendez may do. Let's take a scout around anyhow."

They started, the one going east, the other west, and made a semicircle
until they met, a hundred yards or so, south of the spring, having
found nothing. Again they circled out, ploughing their way through the
sand, and all at once Brennan lifted his hand into the air and called.
Westcott hurried over to where he stood motionless, staring down at the
track of a wagon-wheel. It had slid along a slight declivity, and left
a mark so deep as not yet to be obliterated. They traced it for thirty
feet before it entirely disappeared.

"Still goin' south," affirmed the marshal, gazing in that direction.
"Do