d in response to the orders "Ketch up!" we were putting animals to
wagons (My Lady still in evidence forward), when a horseman bored in at a
gallop, over the road from the east.

"Montoyo, by Gawd!" Jenks pronounced, in a grumble of disgust rather than
with any note of alarm. "Look alive." And--"He don't hang up my pelt; no,
nor yourn if I can help it."

I saw him give a twitch to his holster and slightly loosen the Colt's. But
I was unburthened by guilt in past events, and I conceived no reason for
fearing the future--other than that now I was likely to lose her. Heaven
pity her! Probably she would have to go, even if she managed later to kill
him. The delay in our start had been unfortunate.

It was dollars to doughnuts that every man in the company had had his eye
out for Montoyo, since daylight; and the odds were that every man had
sighted him as quickly as we. Notwithstanding, save by an occasional quick
glance none appeared to pay attention to his rapid approach. We ourselves
went right along hooking up, like the others.

As chanced, our outfit was the first upon his way in. I heard him rein
sharply beside us and his horse fidget, panting. Not until he spoke did we
lift eyes.

"Howdy, gentlemen?"

"Howdy yourself, sir," answered Mr. Jenks, straightening up and meeting
his gaze. I paused, to gaze also. Montoyo was pale as death, his lips hard
set, his peculiar gray eyes and his black moustache the only vivifying
features in his coldly menacing countenance.

He was in white linen shirt, his left arm slung; fine riding boots
encasing his legs above the knees and Spanish spurs at their heels--his
horse's flanks reddened by their jabs. The pearl butt of a six-shooter
jutted from his belt holster. He sat jaunty, excepting for his lips and
eyes.

He looked upon me, with a trace of recognition less to be seen than felt.
His glance leaped to the wagon--traveled swiftly and surely and returned
to Mr. Jenks.

"You're pulling out, I believe."

"Yes, you bet yuh."

"This is the Adams train?"

"It is."

"I'm looking for my wife, gentlemen. May I ask whether you've seen her?"

"You can."

"You have seen her?"

"Yes, sir. We'll not beat around any bush over that."

He meditated, frowning a bit, eying us narrowly.

"I had the notion," he said. "If you have staked her to shelter I thank
you; but now I aim to play the hand myself. This is a strictly private
game. Where is she?"

"I call yuh, Pedro," my frie