Surely, senor," he answered, grinning. "You go your way and I go
mine. Only let the fighting cease. As you say--there is nothing
against me--now."

"Which isn't saying that there won't be, or hasn't been," spoke Snake.
"File out your men--without guns, you understand!" he snapped. "And
then you can hit your own trail. Looks like there'd been a mistake all
round. We thought you the Yaquis."

"Oh, Senor Purdee!" There was false injury in the tones.

"And I'm not so sure but what it will turn out that way in the end,"
added the cowboy grimly. "However, we'll give the benefit of the doubt
for the time being. File out!"

Del Pinzo gave an order, and his band of disreputable half breeds like
himself, including several Indians, though not of the Yaquis tribe,
marched out, hands above their heads, while Snake and his men, the boy
ranchers in the van, watched.

"Is that all?" asked Snake, when the outlaws stood in a row amid the
rocks. He was taking no chances on leaving a hidden, lurking foe to
fire behind their backs.

"All, Senor Purdee. Shall we go?"

"When I tell you to, yes. Now, Del Pinzo, you know I don't trust you,
and there's no use soft soaping the situation. I wouldn't trust you
with a Mexican dollar. So here's what you've got to do.

"March over there," and he indicated a bunch of scrub about half a mile
away. "Stay there until we get breakfast and are on our way. When
we're far enough off I'll fire a shot, and that'll mean you can come
over here again, get your horses and guns, and take after the Yaquis,
if it suits you."

"We want to drive the Indians back," declared Del Pinzo.

"Yes, I reckon they're picking on your preserves, that's the reason,"
said Snake. "Well, this is a free country. As long as you're out of
jail--though how you beat it I can't guess--you can do as you please, I
s'pose--as long as it doesn't interfere with us.

"So hit any trail you like as long as it isn't ours. Now
remember--don't make a break for your horses and guns until I fire a
shot."

"So be it, Senor. And one thing more?"

"What is it?"

"May I put down my hands? I am wounded--"

"Oh, put 'em down? I didn't more than graze you to keep you from
shooting one of our men. Put 'em down!"

With a sigh of relief the outlaw lowered his hands, an example followed
by his men, all of whom were unarmed. They marched behind their leader
to the place designated, and for the first time Snake breathed ea