wait.

The girl hurried out of the house after him, in time to see him slap a
saddle on his bronco, swing to his seat lightly, and gallop in a cloud
of dust to the road.

Valencia waited for no more. Quickly running to her room, she slipped on
a khaki riding-skirt. Her deft, tapering fingers moved swiftly, so that
she was ready, crop in hand, booted and spurred, by the time Juan
brought round her horse.

It took but an instant to lift herself to the saddle and send Billy
galloping forward.

Already her cousin had disappeared in great clouds of dust over the brow
of the hill.

CHAPTER XXII

THE ATTACK

Dick Gordon and Davis were sitting on the porch of their cabin, which
was about an eighth of a mile from the main buildings of the Corbett
place. They had returned the day before from Santa Fe, along with two
deputy sheriffs who had come to arrest Pablo and Sebastian. The officers
had scoured the valley for two days, and as yet had not caught a glimpse
of the men they had come to get. Their inquiries were all met by a
dogged ignorance on the part of the Mexicans, who had of a sudden turned
surprisingly stupid. No, they had seen nothing of Pablo or of Sebastian.
They knew nobody of that name--unless it was old Pablo Gardiez the
_senors_ wished to see. Many strangers desired to see him, for he was
more than a hundred years old and still remembered clearly the old days.

Gordon laughed at the discomfiture of his sleuths. "I dare say they may
have been talking to the very men they wanted. But everybody hangs
together in this valley. I'm going out with them myself to-morrow after
the gentlemen the law requires."

"No, I wouldn't do that, Dick. With every greaser in the valley
simmering against you, it won't do for you to go trapsing right down
among them," Davis explained.

"That's where I'm going, anyhow--to-morrow morning. The deputies are
staying up at Morrow's. I'm going to phone 'em to-night that I'll ride
with them to-morrow. Bet you a new hat we flush our birds."

"What's the sense of you going into the police business, Dick? I'll tell
you what's ailing you. You're just honing to see Miss Valdes again. You
want to go grand-standing around making her mad at you some more."

"You're a wiz, Steve," admitted his friend dryly. "Maybe you're right.
Maybe I do want to see her again. Why shouldn't I?"

"What good does it do you when you quarrel all the time you're together?
She's declared herself alread