and her friends.

The outlaw was irritated. All this clamor of fear annoyed and disturbed
him. This was not the scene he had planned in his drink-inspired
reveries. There had been a time when Joyce had admired the virile force
of him, when she had let herself be kind to him under the impression she
was influencing him for his good. He had misunderstood the reaction of
her mind and supposed that if he could get her away from the influence
of her father and the rest of his enemies, she would again listen to what
he called reason.

"All right. You brought the brat here without orders. Now take him home
again," directed Doble harshly.

Otero protested fluently, with gestures eloquent. He had not yet been
paid for his services. By this time Malapi might be too hot for him. He
did not intend ever to go back. He was leaving the country pronto--muy
pronto. The boy could go back when his sister went.

"His sister's not going back. Soon as it gets dark we'll travel south.
She's gonna be my wife. You can take the kid back to the road an' leave
him there."

Again the Mexican lifted hands and shoulders while he pattered volubly,
trying to make himself heard above the cries of the child. Dug had
silenced Joyce by the simple expedient of clapping his big hand over her
mouth.

Doble's other hand went into his pocket. He drew out a flat package of
currency bound together with rubber bands. His sharp teeth drew off one
of the rubbers. From the bundle he stripped four fifty-dollar bills and
handed them to Otero.

"Peel this kid off'n my leg and hit the trail, Juan. I don' care where
you leave him so long as you keep an eye on him till afternoon."

With difficulty the Mexican dragged the boy from his hold on Doble and
carried him to a horse. He swung to the saddle, dragged Keith up in front
of him, and rode away at a jog-trot. The youngster was screaming at the
top of his lungs.

As his horse climbed toward the notch, Otero looked back. Doble had
picked up his prisoner and was carrying her into the house.

The Mexican formulated his plans. He must get out of the country before
the hue and cry started. He could not count on more than a few hours
before the chase began. First, he must get rid of the child. Then he
wanted to go to a certain tendejon where he would meet his sweetheart
and say good-bye to her.

It was all very well for Doble to speak of taking him to town or to the
road. Juan meant to do neither. He would leave hi