boots and felt the
familiar drag of his cartridge-belt, when he tested his free muscles,
he realized that he was another man. Even yet he could not put much
faith in Phil Strange's words--nevertheless, there might be a danger
threatening Alaire; and if so, it was time to act.

Phil watched his friend saddle the bay mare, then as Dave tied his
Winchester scabbard to its thongs he laughed nervously.

"You're loaded for bear."

The horseman answered, grimly: "I'm loaded for Jose Sanchez. If I lay
hands on him I'll learn what he knows."

"You can't get nothing out of a Mexican,"

"No? I've made Filipinos talk. Believe me, I can be some persuasive
when I try." With that he swung a leg over Montrosa's back and rode
away.

Law found it good to feel a horse between his knees. He had not
realized until now how long Montrosa's saddle had been empty. The sun
was hot and friendly, the breeze was sweet in his nostrils as he swept
past the smiling fields and out into the mesquite country. Heat waves
danced above the patches of bare ground; insects sang noisily from
every side; far ahead the road ran a wavering course through a
deceitful mirage of rippling ponds. It was all familiar, pleasant; it
was home; black moods were impossible amid such surroundings. The
chemistry of air and earth and sunshine were at work dissolving away
the poisons of his imagination. Of course Dave's trouble did not wholly
vanish; it still lurked in the back of his mind and rode with him; but
from some magic source he was deriving a power to combat it. With every
mile he covered his strength and courage increased.

Such changes had come into his life since his last visit to Las Palmas
that it gave him a feeling of unreality to discover no alteration in
the ranch. He had somehow felt that the buildings would look older,
that the trees would have grown taller, and so when he finally came in
sight of his destination he reined in to look.

Behind him he heard the hum of an approaching motor, and he turned to
behold a car racing along the road he had just traveled. The machine
was running fast, as a long streamer of choking dust gave evidence, and
Dave soon recognized it as belonging to Jonesville's prosecuting
attorney. As it tore past him its owner shouted something, but the
words were lost. In the automobile with the driver were several
passengers, and one of these likewise called to Dave and seemed to
motion him to follow. When the machine slowed do