ill
quivering strip of material. More bulges appeared and disappeared,
fragments fallen and retrieved. Then a sharp point pierced downward, the
tip of a knife slitting the tough stuff. A slash, and the manta peeled
back against the wall of the cell.

"_Senor_--?" It was so faint a whisper Drew hardly caught it.

"Yes!" He looked up with desperate eagerness into what he had hoped to
see--the dark splotch of a hole.

A rawhide lariat smoothly braided, oiled into supple silkiness, dangled
through. Drew got his hands on it, pulled it back against the wall as the
sentry returned. He held his breath during that pause beside the spy hole,
a pause which lengthened alarmingly. Then his body jerked in answer to a
sound a half second before he realized what manner of sound. The sentry
had sneezed. He sniffled, too, loudly; then he went on to complete his
beat. The blanket and the straw--they had worked!

Drew pulled at the lariat, was answered by a return jerk. He jumped and
began to climb. Then, with a wrench he was through the hole, other hands
helping to pull.

"Come--pronto!" The hands were pushing, urging. He wriggled forward.
Teodoro Trinfan! But why?

There was no time to ask; Drew could only obey directions. They made a
worm's progress along the full length of the old ranch building, and
dropped the lariat for a ladder to the ground. They crossed the small part
of the camp near the ravine with the same caution they had used on the
roof.

"_Senor_..." Teodoro's lips were at Drew's ear as the boy pressed against
him in a thin cover of shadow. "Left--a big stone--put your hands on
it--swing about and down."

Drew had to take that on blind trust. He had no idea what kind of a drop
waited below, and only by firm will power did he follow orders. But his
boot soles met a solid surface. Then he was caught about the waist and
Hilario's voice whispered to him.

"_Senor_, you stand--so." Hands fumbled about him, looping him with a
supporting lariat. "Now--we go! Your hand, _senor_." Drew's left hand was
caught in a tight grip which pulled him to the right, face to the wall. So
secured, he inched along what he knew must be the face of the ravine, his
toes on some small ledge midway between lip and foot.

Somehow the three of them reached ground level, their diagonal course of
descent putting some distance between them and the camp. In spite of the
cold of the night, Drew was wet with sweat as they threaded through heady
s