hing to make
him sleep well in these war-times.

"Just the same, I'll bet he'd sleep better if the Lewis outfit was
cleaned up," Dave ventured, and Blaze agreed.

Guzman caught his enemy's name and nodded.

"Ah! That sin verguenza! He sells arms to the Candeleristas and horses
to the Potosistas. Perhaps he steals my calves. Who knows?"

"Senor Lewis doesn't need to steal. He has money," Jones argued.

"True! But who is so rich that he would not be richer? Lewis employs
men who are poor, and he himself is above nothing. I, too, am a friend
of the Rebels. Panchito, the Liberator, was a saint, and I give money
to the patriots who fight for his memory. But I do not aid the tyrant
Potosi with my other hand. Yes, and who is richer, for instance, than
Senor Eduardo Austin?"

"You surely don't accuse him of double-dealing with the Rebels?" Blaze
inquired, curiously.

"I don't know. He is a friend of Tad Lewis, and there are strange
stories afloat."

Just what these stories were, however, Ricardo would not say, feeling,
perhaps, that he had already said too much.

The three men spent that evening together, and in the morning Blaze
rode home, leaving the Ranger behind for the time being as Guzman's
guest.

Dave put in the next two days riding the pastures, familiarizing
himself with the country, and talking with the few men he met. About
all he discovered, however, was the fact that the Guzman range not only
adjoined some of Lewis's leased land, but also was bounded for several
miles by the Las Palmas fence.

It was pleasant to spend the days among the shy brush-cattle, with
Bessie Belle for company. The mare seemed to enjoy the excursions as
much as her owner. Her eyes and ears were ever alert; she tossed her
head and snorted when a deer broke cover or a jack-rabbit scuttled out
of her path; she showed a friendly interest in the awkward calves which
stood and eyed her with such amazement and then galloped stiffly off
with tails high arched.

Law had many times undertaken to break Bessie Belle of that habit of
flinging her head high at sudden sounds, but she was nervous and
inquisitive, and this was the one thing upon which she maintained a
feminine obstinacy.

On the second evening the Ranger rode home through a drizzle that had
materialized after a long, threatening afternoon and now promised to
become a real rain. Ricardo met him at the door to say:

"You bring good fortune with you, senor, for the land is t