at the house. Whereupon the detachment of rebels retired to
the bank of the river, beyond the white post that marked the boundary
line, and there they once more drew rein. Belding remained by the
corrals watching them, evidently still in threatening mood. Presently a
single rider left the troop and trotted his horse back down the road.
When he reached the corrals he was seen to halt and pass something to
Belding. Then he galloped away to join his comrades.

Belding looked at whatever it was he held in his hand, shook his burley
head, and started swiftly for the house. He came striding into the
room holding a piece of soiled paper.

"Can't read it and don't know as I want to," he said, savagely.

"Beldin', shore we'd better read it," replied Ladd. "What we want is a
line on them Greasers. Whether they're Campo's men or Salazar's, or
just a wanderin' bunch of rebels--or Rojas's bandits. Sabe, senor?"

Not one of the men was able to translate the garbled scrawl.

"Shore Mercedes can read it," said Ladd.

Thorne opened a door and called her. She came into the room followed
by Nell and Mrs. Belding. Evidently all three divined a critical
situation.

"My dear, we want you to read what's written on this paper," said
Thorne, as he led her to the table. "It was sent in by rebels,
and--and we fear contains bad news for us."

Mercedes gave the writing one swift glance, then fainted in Thorne's
arms. He carried her to a couch, and with Nell and Mrs. Belding began
to work over her.

Belding looked at his rangers. It was characteristic of the man that,
now when catastrophe appeared inevitable, all the gloom and care and
angry agitation passed from him.

"Laddy, it's Rojas all right. How many men has he out there?"

"Mebbe twenty. Not more."

"We can lick twice that many Greasers."

"Shore."

Jim Lash removed his pipe long enough to speak.

"I reckon. But it ain't sense to start a fight when mebbe we can avoid
it."

"What's your idea?"

"Let's stave the Greaser off till dark. Then Laddy an' me an' Thorne
will take Mercedes an' hit the trail for Yuma."

"Camino del Diablo! That awful trail with a woman! Jim, do you forget
how many hundreds of men have perished on the Devil's Road?"

"I reckon I ain't forgettin' nothin'," replied Jim. "The waterholes
are full now. There's grass, an' we can do the job in six days."

"It's three hundred miles to Yuma."

"Beldin', Jim's idea hits me pretty reas