inally
swung it with a rather nice accuracy to fly, bandana and all, through
the opening. After a short interval of suspense I saw the reflection of
a light and so knew my message had been received.

There was nothing to do now but return to a point of observation. On my
way I stubbed my stockinged foot against a stone _metate_ or mortar in
which Indians and Mexicans make their flour. The heavy pestle was there.
I annexed it. Dropped accurately from the height of the roof it would
make a very pretty weapon. The trouble, of course, lay in that word
"accurately."

But I soon found the fates playing into my hands. At the end of a
quarter hour the sentry emerged from under the verandah, looked up at
the sky, yawned, stretched, and finally sat down with his back against
the wall of the building opposite. Inside of ten minutes he was sound
asleep and snoring gently.

I wanted nothing better than that. The descent was a little difficult to
accomplish noiselessly, as I had to drop some feet, but I managed it.
After crouching for a moment to see if the slight sounds had aroused
him, I crept along the wall to where he sat. The stone pestle of the
_metate_ I had been forced to leave behind me, but I had the heavy
barrel of my gun, and I was going to take no chances. I had no
compunctions as to what I did to any one of this pack of mad dogs.
Cautiously I drew it from its holster and poised it to strike. At that
instant I was seized and pinioned from behind.

CHAPTER XI

I did not struggle. I would have done so if I had been able, but I was
caught in a grip so skillful that the smallest move gave me the most
exquisite pain. At that time I had not even heard the words _jiu jitsu_,
but I have looked them up since. Cortinez, the sleepy sentry, without
changing his position, had opened his eyes and was grinning at me.

I was forced to my feet and marched to the open door of the corner room.
There I was released, and turned around to face Hooper himself. The old
man's face was twisted in a sardonic half-snarl that might pass for a
grin; but there was no smile in his unblinking wildcat eyes. There
seemed to be trace neither of the girl nor the girl's occupation.

"Thank you for your warning of your intended visit," said Hooper in
silky tones, indicating my bandana which lay on the table. "And now may
I inquire to what I owe the honour of this call? Or it may be that the
visit was not intended for me at all. Mistake in the