for Mr. Radford Chase."

A tall, heavy-shouldered fellow rose, boldly enough, even swaggeringly,
and glowered at Gale.

"I'm Radford Chase," he said. His voice betrayed the boldness of his
action.

It was over in a few moments. The tables and chairs were tumbled into
a heap; one of the pool tables had been shoved aside; a lamp lay
shattered, with oil running dark upon the floor. Ladd leaned against a
post with a smoking gun in his hand. A Mexican crouched close to the
wall moaning over a broken arm. In the far corner upheld by comrades
another wounded Mexican cried out in pain. These two had attempted to
draw weapons upon Gale, and Ladd had crippled them.

In the center of the room lay Radford Chase, a limp, torn, hulking,
bloody figure. He was not seriously injured. But he was helpless, a
miserable beaten wretch, who knew his condition and felt the eyes upon
him. He sobbed and moaned and howled. But no one offered to help him
to his feet.

Backed against the door of the hall stood Ben Chase, for once stripped
of all authority and confidence and courage. Gale confronted him, and
now Gale's mien was in striking contrast to the coolness with which he
had entered the place. Though sweat dripped from his face, it was as
white as chalk. Like dark flames his eyes seemed to leap and dance and
burn. His lean jaw hung down and quivered with passion. He shook a
huge gloved fist in Chase's face.

"Your gray hairs save you this time. But keep out of my way! And when
that son of yours comes to, tell him every time I meet him I'll add
some more to what he got to-day!"

XIX

THE SECRET OF FORLORN RIVER

IN the early morning Gale, seeking solitude where he could brood over
his trouble, wandered alone. It was not easy for him to elude the
Yaqui, and just at the moment when he had cast himself down in a
secluded shady corner the Indian appeared, noiseless, shadowy,
mysterious as always.

"Malo," he said, in his deep voice.

"Yes, Yaqui, it's bad--very bad," replied Gale.

The Indian had been told of the losses sustained by Belding and his
rangers.

"Go--me!" said Yaqui, with an impressive gesture toward the lofty
lilac-colored steps of No Name Mountains.

He seemed the same as usual, but a glance on Gale's part, a moment's
attention, made him conscious of the old strange force in the Yaqui.
"Why does my brother want me to climb the nameless mountains with him?"
asked Gale.

"Lluvia d'oro," re