n the slightest. It was
evident that the fighting blood of her father was aroused in her, for
she said, calmly:

"When it gets light enough to shoot, I'm going to get Tad Lewis."

"Don't act too quickly," cautioned Alaire. "Perhaps your father and
Dave have come and gone. Anyhow, we can warn them just as well by
firing into the air."

In reply to this suggestion Paloma merely muttered something under her
breath.

The brief night ride had given Alaire time in which to recover from her
first apprehensions, and now she was surprised at her own coolness.
Ed's behavior had shocked and horrified her; she was still half
paralyzed at his treachery; nevertheless, her mind was clear, and she
was determined to avert a tragedy if possible. She knew only too well
what would happen when Blaze Jones and Dave Law encountered the Lewis
gang; the presence of Longorio's soldiers merely made more certain the
outcome of that meeting. The general was furious; it was plain that he
would not tolerate this expedition, the avowed purpose of which was to
prove him a liar. It would make but little difference, therefore,
whether the quest for Ricardo Guzman's body had been successful or not:
even the fact that this was American soil would not deter Longorio from
violent action, for the Rio Grande was no real boundary, and this part
of Texas was as truly Mexican as that other river-bank which lay two
hundred yards distant.

A confusion of such thoughts were racing through Alaire's mind as she
felt her way out of the boiler-room and into that part of the building
where the pumping machinery stood. Dusty, cobwebbed windows let in a
faint ghost-glow of moonlight, but prevented clear observation of
anything outside; Alaire's fumbling fingers found the latch of the
front door and began to lift it, when some one spoke, just outside the
building.

"What did you discover?" inquired a voice which neither woman
recognized. Paloma clutched blindly for her companion; the two
eavesdroppers stood rooted in their tracks. The pounding of their
hearts sounded loudly. Since the building was little more than a wooden
shell, they could plainly hear the answer:

"The house is full of Greasers. I can't tell who they are."

A third man spoke, this time in Spanish. "That was Tad Lewis who just
came, senor."

There followed some whispered words indistinguishable to the listeners,
then a rustle of bodies moving through the tall grass and weeds.

Paloma placed h