regarded Rhodes with perfectly
friendly and apparently sleepy black eyes.

"Not always, senor, but when Tula sends the call of Miguel, all are
surely coming, and also making the prayer."

"The call of Miguel? Why--Miguel is dead."

"That is true, senor, but he was head man, and he had words of power,
also the old Indians listened. Now Tula has the words, and as you
see,--the words are still alive! I am not knowing what they mean,--the
words,--but when Tula tells me, I take them."

"_O Tippecanoe, and Tyler too!_" hummed Kit studying the boy. "What's
in a word? Do you mean that you take a trail to carry words you don't
understand, because a girl younger than you tells you to?"

The boy nodded indifferently.

"Yes, senor, it is my work when it is words of old prayer, and Tula is
sending them. It would be bad not to go, a quicksand would surely
catch my horse, or I might die from the bite of a _sorrilla rabioso_,
or evil ghosts might lure me into wide _medanos_ where I would seek
trails forever, and find only my own! Words can do that on a man! and
Tula has the words now."

"Indeed! That's a comfortable chum to have around--not! And have you
no fear?"

"Not so much. I am very good," stated Clodomiro virtuously. "Some day
maybe I take her for my woman;--her clan talks about it now. She has
almost enough age, and--you see!"

He directed the attention of Rhodes to the strips of red and green and
pink calico banding his arms, their fluttering ends very decorative
when he moved swiftly.

"Oh, yes, I've been admiring them. Very pretty," said Kit amicably,
not knowing the significance of it, but conscious of the wide range
one might cover in a few minutes of simple Sonora ranch life. From the
tragic and weird to the childishly inane was but a step.

Clodomiro passed on to the kitchen, and Kit smoked his cigarette and
paced the outer corridor, striving for plans to move forward with his
own interests, and employ the same time and the same trail for the
task set by Ramon Rotil.

Rotil had stated that the escort of Dona Jocasta must be as complete
as could be arranged. This meant a duena and a maid at least, and as
he had bidden Tula have her way with her "Judas," it surely meant that
Tula must go to Soledad. Very well so far, and as Rotil would
certainly not question the extent of the outfit taken along, why not
include any trifles Tula and he chanced to care for? He remembered
also that there were some scattered b