ter he had finished dressing it, he turned to Yeager.

"No use bothering with mine. I'll have worse wounds soon," the man from
Arizona told him calmly.

The little doctor smiled genially because his heart was good. "Quien
sabe, senor? Yet it is my duty," he reminded his patient gently.

"Old Gabriel might not say so," demurred Steve.

Yet he conceded the point and let the surgeon minister to him. There was
no anaesthetic. The patient had to set his teeth and bear the pain while
the bullet was removed and the wound washed and dressed. Little beads of
perspiration stood out on his forehead. The lean muscles of his cheeks
stood out like ropes. But no sound escaped his lips.

"You are a brave man," said the doctor when he had finished. "I wish you
good fortune, sir."

A faint smile rested in the eyes of the cowpuncher. "I'm right likely
to have it, don't you think?" he asked ironically.

Whether Ochampa suspected Holcomb of being in collusion with his
countryman or was merely taking no chances, the prisoner had no way of
telling. But the major refused flatly to let the artillery officer into
the room.

"Tell him he can see the man after the general returns--if the general
wants him to see him," he told the messenger.

They could hear the voice of Holcomb, angry and insistent, protesting
against such treatment. But a file of soldiers stood between him and the
room. He had to retire defeated.

Slate-colored dawn rolled up without the return of Pasquale. With every
passing hour Steve gathered hope. It was certain that Ruth and her
friends had escaped through the lines or they must have been brought
back long ago. And if they once reached the hills and became lost among
them, they would surely be safe from pursuit.

The prisoner was drinking a cup of coffee the doctor had brought him
when the sound of horses' hoofs came to him through the open window.

The voice of Pasquale rang out, and at the sound of it Steve's heart
grew chill. For there was in the timbre of it a brutal, jovial triumph.

"Take these horses, boys,--feed them, water them. Let the girl go to
her room, Ramon, but see that she is watched every minute. Garcia,
attend to the Gringos."

He strode into the room where Yeager was detained. His greedy little
eyes sparkled; his face exuded malice and self-conceit.

"Ho, ho, amigo! Who laughs now?" he jeered. "I found your
friends--stumbled on them in a pocket of the hills while we were
returning. They