by the blood that pressed like a
stone mask on her face. She had a sense that she was floating, sailing,
drifting, reeling, even while being borne swiftly as a thunderbolt. Her
hands and arms were immovable under the weight of mountains. There was
a long, blank period from which she awakened to feel an arm supporting
her. Then she rallied. The velocity of the car had been cut to the speed
to which she was accustomed. Throwing back the hood, she breathed freely
again, recovered fully.

The car was bowling along a wide road upon the outskirts of a city.
Madeline asked what place it could be.

"Douglas," replied Link. "An' jest around is Agua Prieta!"

That last name seemed to stun Madeline. She heard no more, and saw
little until the car stopped. Nels spoke to some one. Then sight of
khaki-clad soldiers quickened Madeline's faculties. She was on the
boundary-line between the United States and Mexico, and Agua Prieta,
with its white and blue walled houses, its brown-tiled roofs, lay before
her. A soldier, evidently despatched by Nels, returned and said an
officer would come at once. Madeline's attention was centered in the
foreground, upon the guard over the road, upon the dry, dusty town
beyond; but she was aware of noise and people in the rear. A cavalry
officer approached the car, stared, and removed his sombrero.

"Can you tell me anything about Stewart, the American cowboy who was
captured by rebels a few days ago?" asked Madeline.

"Yes," replied the officer. "There was a skirmish over the line between
a company of Federals and a large force of guerrillas and rebels. The
Federals were driven west along the line. Stewart is reported to have
done reckless fighting and was captured. He got a Mexican sentence. He
is known here along the border, and the news of his capture stirred
up excitement. We did all we could to get his release. The guerrillas
feared to execute him here, and believed he might be aided to escape. So
a detachment departed with him for Mezquital."

"He was sentenced to be shot Thursday at sunset--to-night?"

"Yes. It was rumored there was a personal resentment against Stewart. I
regret that I can't give you definite information. If you are friends of
Stewart--relatives--I might find--"

"I am his wife," interrupted Madeline. "Will you please read these." She
handed him the telegrams. "Advise me--help me, if you can?"

With a wondering glance at her the officer received the telegrams. He
read