truck it further down after I jumped the gully.
Otherwise you fellows would have lost me."

"Good work, Jo," said Jim. "Now we will have it easier going."

So in single file they galloped along the path, until they found
themselves by noon, at the foot of a spur of mountains that extended
from the main coast range to the ocean. Jim regarded this barrier in
their way with a practised eye.

"This will slow us down, Senor," he said. "It looks like a pass below
there, about two miles."

"Yes," said the Senor, "we can get through there all right, but it is
pretty rough going."

They had to advance more slowly now, as the ground was broken into stony
ravines, and there was a good deal of brush. In this kind of country
Jo's horse more than held its own with the bigger animals, for he was as
nimble as a goat.

"I hope we will find water, Senor," remarked Jim. "Our horses are pretty
dry now."

"Yes," replied the Spaniard, "there is a good spring at the foot of the
Pass."

They found it all right, in the entrance to the Pass, where there was a
small green cove, surrounded with bushes, and on one side was a sheep
herder's shanty. Jo investigated this immediately and found nothing in
it but the charred remnants of a fire and a pair of discarded overalls.

Jim, who had himself been looking around, made a more important find.

"There has been somebody here recently," he announced. "Here are some
tracks around the spring and not over twelve hours old."

"Yes, I have no doubt," said the Spaniard carelessly puffing at his
cigarette. "This Pass is used occasionally by ranchmen and herders."

"There have been five or six horses here," said Jim, whose experiences
had made him suspicious.

"There are no Indians," said Jo, "in this section, at least none who are
on the warpath."

"I suppose you do have cattle rustlers, Senor?" inquired Jim.

"Yes, there is a band of outlaws," replied the Spaniard, "that raids
from as far north as our ranch, south to San Diego, but we have seen no
trace of them for many months."

"Then, Senor," remarked Jim, "it is about time that they paid you
another visit."

"Ah, Senor Darlington," exclaimed the Spaniard. "We Castilians do not
reason so. We say that there is no trouble today, why worry about
tomorrow. Perhaps these bandits may have starved to death, or been hung,
or the good Padres may have persuaded them by the fear of Hell, to
become quiet, sheep raising citizens. God knows."

"I