er was not a man to be easily puzzled, but the appearance of
such a force there and then was a remarkable circumstance--altogether
unaccountable. So was the action taken by the Mexican colonel in
command. No message of inquiry was sent forward. No greeting was
offered. The only sound to be heard was that of the bugle as it repeated
the signals called for by the few brief, sternly uttered orders that rung
out from the head of the column.

"It isn't too late for us to run, Cap," suggested Bill.

"Yes, it is. They'd catch us in no time. Besides, we haven't done
anything to run for."

"Not to them we haven't."

In a few minutes more it was too late, if it had not been just then, for
the gleaming lances of a full company of the Mexicans began to shine
above the grass and bushes behind the miners.

"Trapped, boys! I wonder what they're going to do?"

The Mexican commander was nearly ready to tell them now, for, as his
really splendid-looking horsemen closed steadily in upon the silent squad
of wild-looking desperadoes, he himself rode forward toward them,
accompanied by two officers in brilliant uniforms.

Captain Skinner rode out as if to meet him, but was greeted by an
imperative, loud-voiced,

"Halt! Dismount!"

The fire flashed from the eyes of the ragged little Captain.

"Close up, boys! Dismount behind your horses, and take aim across the
saddle."

He was obeyed like clock-work, and it was the colonel's turn to "halt,"
for no less than three of those deadly dark tubes were pointing straight
at him, and he saw with what sort of men he was dealing. Had they been
six dozen instead of only less than two, they would not have hesitated a
second about charging in upon his gay lancers, and would probably have
scattered them right and left.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded of Captain Skinner.

"Travelling."

"Where are you going?"

"Going to try and mind our own business."

"Where did you come from?"

"Across the border. Driven out of the mines by Apaches. Didn't expect
to find Mexican regular cavalry worse than the redskins."

"We will see about that, senor. You are our prisoners."

"All right, so long as none of you come too near. It won't be healthy
for any of you to try."

"No harm is intended you, senor. We are sent to guard this frontier
against the Apaches, and to put down a small pronunciamento."

Captain Skinner knew what that meant. There had been some sort of a
little