about the trouble
that had driven him to the desert, Malvey considered silence on that
subject emanated from a lack of trust. He wanted to gain Pete's
confidence--for the time being at least. It would make it that much
easier to follow The Spider's instructions in regard to Pete's horse.
But to all Malvey's hints Pete was either silent or jestingly
unresponsive. As the journey thinned the possibilities of Pete's
capture, it became monotonous, even to Malvey, who set about planning
how he could steal Pete's horse with the least risk to himself. Aside
from The Spider's instructions Malvey coveted the pony--a far better
horse than his own--and he was of two minds as to whether he should not
keep the pony for his own use. The Concho was a long cry from
Showdown--while the horse Malvey rode had been stolen from a more
immediate neighborhood. As for setting this young stranger afoot in
the desert, that did not bother Malvey in the least. No posse would
ride farther south than Showdown, and with Pete afoot at Flores's
rancho, Malvey would be free to follow his own will, either to Blake's
ranch or farther south and across the border. Whether Pete returned to
Showdown or not was none of Malvey's affair. To get away with the
horse might require some scheming. Malvey made no further attempt to
draw Pete out--but rode on in silence.

They came upon the canon suddenly, so suddenly that Pete's horse shied
and circled. Malvey, leading, put his own pony down a steep and
winding trail. Pete followed, fixing his eyes on a far green spot at
the bottom of the canon, and the thin thread of smoke above the trees
that told of a habitation.

At a bend in the trail, Malvey turned in the saddle: "We'll bush down
here. Friends of mine."

Pete nodded.

They watered their horses at the thin trickle of water in the canon-bed
and then rode slowly past a weirdly fenced field. Presently they came
to a rude adobe stable and scrub-cedar corral. A few yards beyond, and
hidden by the bushes, was the house. A pock-marked Mexican greeted
Malvey gruffly. The Spider's name was mentioned, and Pete was
introduced as his friend. The horses were corralled and fed.

As Pete entered the adobe, a thin, listless Mexican woman--Flores's
wife--called to some one in an inner room. Presently Flores's daughter
appeared, supple of movement and smiling. She greeted Malvey as though
he were an old friend, cast down her eyes at Pete's direct gaze, an