l his horse could
come up. Once in the saddle he would have laughed at their attempts to
take him. It was a desperate resolve,--a perilous running of the
gauntlet,--almost certain death; but still more certain death was the
alternative if he remained where he was.

There was no time for hesitation. Already several men had dismounted,
and were making towards the bridge. He must cross before they had
reached it; one was already upon it. He must be beaten back.

Carlos, cocking his pistol, rushed forward to the gate. The man had
reached it from the other side. They met face to face, with the gate
still shut between them. Carlos saw that his antagonist was Roblado
himself!

Not a word was spoken between them. Roblado also had his pistol in
readiness and fired first, but missed his aim. He perceived this, and,
dreading the fire from his adversary, he staggered back to the bank,
shouting to his followers to discharge their carbines.

Before they could obey the order, the crack of the cibolero's pistol
rang upon the air, and Roblado, with a loud oath, rolled down by the
edge of the water. Carlos dashed open the gate, and was about to rush
onward, when he perceived through the smoke and darkness several
carbines brought to the level, and aimed at him. A sudden thought came
into his mind, and he changed his design of crossing the bridge. The
time was but the pulling of a trigger, but, short as it was, he effected
his purpose. The carbines blazed and cracked, all nearly at the same
instant, and when the smoke cleared away Carlos was no longer on the
bridge! Had he gone back into the garden? No--already half-a-dozen men
had cut off his retreat in that direction!

"He is killed!" cried several voices, "Carajo!--he has fallen into the
river! _Mira_!"

All eyes were turned upon the stream. Certainly a body had plunged into
it, as the bubbles and circling waves testified, but only these were to
be seen! "He has sunk! he's gone to the bottom!" cried some.

"Be sure he hasn't swum away!" counselled a voice; and several ran along
the banks with their eyes searching the surface.

"Impossible! there are no waves."

"He could not have passed here," said one who stood a little below the
bridge. "I have been watching the water."

"So have I," cried another from above. "He has not passed my position."

"Then he is dead and gone down!"

"Carajo! let us fish him out!" And they were proceeding to put this
idea