They are mine,
body and soul. They eat, sleep, starve, and die at my word. Is it not
so?"

The charging line had wheeled and was coming back like the distant roll
of thunder. "Viva Pasquale!" they shouted as they galloped. Steve had a
momentary qualm lest they charge over him and their chief, but the tough
little horses were dragged to a halt five yards from them in a great
cloud of dust. Bullets zipped into the air in their wild enthusiasm.
Wild whoops and cheers increased the tumult.

"Looks that way," agreed the American.

Returning to the village, Steve observed a bunch of cattle a hundred
yards from the trail. A Mexican lad, half asleep, was herding them.
Immediately a devouring curiosity took hold of the cowpuncher. He wanted
to see the brand on those cattle. It struck him that the shortest way
was the quickest. He borrowed the field-glasses of Pasquale.

As he lowered the glasses after looking through them, Yeager laughed.
"Funny how things come out. In this country cattle are like chips in a
poker game. They ain't got any home, I reckon."

"Meaning, senor?" suggested the insurgent chief.

"Meaning that less than a week ago I paid a perfectly good check of the
Lunar Company for that bunch of steers. We did aim to use them in some
roundup sets, but I expect you've got another use for them."

"Si, senor."

"Hope Harrison held you up for a good price," suggested the American
casually.

Pasquale showed his teeth in a grin. "He was some anxious to unload in a
hurry--had to take the market he could find handy."

"Looks like he was afraid the goods might spoil on his hands," Steve
commented dryly.

"Maybeso. I didn't ask any questions and he didn't offer any
explanations. Fifteen gold on the hoof was what I agreed to pay. Were
you in on this with Harrison?"

"I was and I wasn't. Me, I drove that bunch 'most forty miles, then he
held me up and took the whole outfit from me."

Pasquale saw he had made a mistake and promptly lied. "It wasn't
Harrison I got them from at all--just wanted to see what you'd say."

"Well, they didn't cost me a red cent. You're welcome to 'em as far as
I'm concerned. Slow elk suits me fine. I'll help you eat them while I'm
here, and that will be a week anyhow."

"You're a good sport, Yeager, as you Gringos say. We'll get along like
brothers. Not so?"

The revolutionary chief was an incessant card-player. He had a greasy
pack out as soon as they reached camp. Steve was invite