le noise; and Belding relied on these
facts. Belding did not believe a band of night raiders would hold out
against a hot rifle fire. So he began to make up some of the sleep he
had lost. It was noteworthy, however, that Ladd did not share
Belding's sanguine hopes.

Jim Lash rode in, reporting that all was well out along the line toward
the Sonoyta Oasis. Days passed, and Belding kept his rangers home.
Nothing was heard of raiders at hand. Many of the newcomers, both
American and Mexican, who came with wagons and pack trains from Casita
stated that property and life were cheap back in that rebel-infested
town.

One January morning Dick Gale was awakened by a shrill, menacing cry.
He leaped up bewildered and frightened. He heard Belding's booming
voice answering shouts, and rapid steps on flagstones. But these had
not awakened him. Heavy breaths, almost sobs, seemed at his very door.
In the cold and gray dawn Dick saw something white. Gun in hand, he
bounded across the room. Just outside his door stood Blanco Sol.

It was not unusual for Sol to come poking his head in at Dick's door
during daylight. But now in the early dawn, when he had been locked in
the corral, it meant raiders--no less. Dick called softly to the
snorting horse; and, hurriedly getting into clothes and boots, he went
out with a gun in each hand. Sol was quivering in every muscle. Like
a dog he followed Dick around the house. Hearing shouts in the
direction of the corrals, Gale bent swift steps that way.

He caught up with Jim Lash, who was also leading a white horse.

"Hello, Jim! Guess it's all over but the fireworks," said Dick.

"I cain't say just what has come off," replied Lash. "I've got the
Bull. Found him runnin' in the yard."

They reached the corral to find Belding shaking, roaring like a madman.
The gate was open, the corral was empty. Ladd stooped over the ground,
evidently trying to find tracks.

"I reckon we might jest as well cool off an' wait for daylight,"
suggested Jim.

"Shore. They've flown the coop, you can gamble on that. Tom, where's
the Papago?" said Ladd.

"He's gone, Laddy--gone!"

"Double-crossed us, eh? I see here's a crowbar lyin' by the gatepost.
That Indian fetched it from the forge. It was used to pry out the
bolts an' steeples. Tom, I reckon there wasn't much time lost forcin'
that gate."

Belding, in shirt sleeves and barefooted, roared with rage. He said he
had heard the horses r