to be waiting the rebel invasion.

The railroad south of Madera is being destroyed and many Americans who
were traveling to Chihuahua from Juarez are marooned here.

General Rojas executed five men while here for alleged offenses of a
trivial character. Gen. Rosalio y Hernandez, Lieut. Cipriano Amador, and
three soldiers were the unfortunates.

WASHINGTON, July 17.--Somewhere in Mexico Patrick Dunne, an American
citizen, is in prison under sentence of death. This much and no more
the State Department learned through Representative Kinkaid of Nebraska.
Consular officers in various sections of Mexico have been directed to
make every effort to locate Dunne and save his life.

JUAREZ, MEXICO, July 31.--General Orozco, chief of the rebels, declared
to-day:

"If the United States will throw down the barriers and let us have
all the ammunition we can buy, I promise in sixty days to have peace
restored in Mexico and a stable government in charge."

CASAS GRANDES, CHIHUAHUA, July 31.--Rebel soldiers looted many homes
of Mormons near here yesterday. All the Mormon families have fled to
El Paso. Although General Salazar had two of his soldiers executed
yesterday for robbing Mormons, he has not made any attempt to stop his
men looting the unprotected homes of Americans.

Last night's and to-day's trains carried many Americans from Pearson,
Madera, and other localities outside the Mormon settlements. Refugees
from Mexico continued to pour into El Paso. About one hundred came last
night, the majority of whom were men. Heretofore few men came.

Madeline read on in feverish absorption. It was not a real war, but a
starving, robbing, burning, hopeless revolution. Five men executed for
alleged offenses of a trivial nature! What chance had, then, a Federal
prisoner, an enemy to be feared, an American cowboy in the clutches of
those crazed rebels?

Madeline endured patiently, endured for long interminable hours while
holding to her hope with indomitable will.

No message came. At sunset she went outdoors, suffering a torment
of accumulating suspense. She faced the desert, hoping, praying for
strength. The desert did not influence her as did the passionless,
unchangeable stars that had soothed her spirit. It was red, mutable,
shrouded in shadows, terrible like her mood. A dust-veiled sunset
colored the vast, brooding, naked waste of rock and sand. The grim
Chiricahua frowned black and sinister. The dim blue domes of the
Guada