hen an object catches the quick eye of the ex-Ranger, causing
him to utter a sharp ejaculation.

Something seen west, the way they want to go.

Pointing it out to Hamersley, the two stand observing. No great
scrutiny needed to tell them 'tis a cloud of dust, although in breadth
not bigger than a blanket. But while they are regarding it it gradually
spreads out, at the same time showing higher above the surface of the
plain.

It may be a swirl of the wind acting on the dry sand of the desert--the
first commencement of a regular whirlwind--a thing common on the table
lands of New Mexico. But it has not the round pillar-like form of the
_molino_, nor do they believe it to be one. Both are too well
acquainted with this phenomenon to be deceived by its counterfeit.

If they had any doubts, as they stand gazing these are resolved. The
cloud presents a dense dark head, with a nucleus of something more solid
than dust. And while guessing at the true character of this opaque
central part, a circumstance occurs disclosing it. A puff of wind
striking the dust causes it to swirl sideways, showing underneath a body
of mounted men. Men, too, in military array, marching in double file,
armed, uniformed, with lances borne erect, their blades glinting in the
sun.

"Sogers!" exclaims the ex-Ranger.

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

DREAD CONJECTURES.

It is Wilder who so emphatically proclaims the character of the
cavalcade. He has no need, Hamersley having already made it out
himself.

"Yes; they are soldiers," he rejoins, mechanically, adding, "Mexican, as
a matter of course. None of our troops ever stray this fair west. 'Tis
out of United States territory. The Texans claim it. But those are not
Texans: they are uniformed, and carry lances. Your old friends, the
Rangers, don't affect that sort of thing."

"No," responds Wilder, with a contemptuous toss of the head, "I shedn't
think they did. We niver tuk to them long sticks; 'bout as much use as
bean-poles. In coorse they're Mexikins, _lanzeeros_."

"What can they be doing out here? There are no Indians on the Staked
Plain. If there were, such a small party as that, taking it to be
Mexican, would not be likely to venture after them."

"Maybe it's only a advance guard, and thar's a bigger body behint. We
shell soon see, as they're ridin' deerect this way. By the 'Tarnal,
'twon't do to let 'em sight us; leastwise, not till we've seen more o'
them, an' know wh