er horse upon
the ranch than Brazos the thing could never have been done; but the
kindly little pony stood in statuesque resignation while the heavy
Mexican tree was banged and thumped against his legs and ribs, until a
lucky swing carried it to his wethers.

Saddled and bridled Barbara led him to the rear of the building and
thus, by a roundabout way, to the back of the office building. Here she
could see a light in the room in which Billy was confined, and after
dropping the bridle reins to the ground she made her way to the front of
the structure.

Creeping stealthily to the porch she peered in at the window. Eddie was
stretched out in cramped though seeming luxury in an office chair.
His feet were cocked up on the desk before him. In his lap lay his
six-shooter ready for any emergency. Another reposed in its holster at
his belt.

Barbara tiptoed to the door. Holding her breath she turned the knob
gently. The door swung open without a sound, and an instant later she
stood within the room. Again her eyes were fixed upon Eddie Shorter.
She saw his nerveless fingers relax their hold upon the grip of his
revolver. She saw the weapon slip farther down into his lap. He did not
move, other than to the deep and regular breathing of profound slumber.

Barbara crossed the room to his side.

Behind the ranchhouse three figures crept forward in the shadows. Behind
them a matter of a hundred yards stood a little clump of horses and with
them were the figures of more men. These waited in silence. The other
three crept toward the house. It was such a ranchhouse as you might find
by the scores or hundreds throughout Texas. Grayson, evidently, or some
other Texan, had designed it. There was nothing Mexican about it, nor
anything beautiful. It stood two storied, verandaed and hideous, a blot
upon the soil of picturesque Mexico.

To the roof of the veranda clambered the three prowlers, and across it
to an open window. The window belonged to the bedroom of Miss Barbara
Harding. Here they paused and listened, then two of them entered the
room. They were gone for but a few minutes. When they emerged they
showed evidences, by their gestures to the third man who had awaited
outside, of disgust and disappointment.

Cautiously they descended as they had come and made their way back to
those other men who had remained with the horses. Here there ensued a
low-toned conference, and while it progressed Barbara Harding reached
forth a ste