devil. I must find him ... soon."

"Juan has not been here for two days. I do not know where he is."

The dust of a moving horse was traveling toward them from the hills. A
Mexican pulled up and swung from the saddle. The girl called a greeting
to him quickly before he could speak. "Buenos dios, Manuel. My father
is within, Manuel."

The man looked at her a moment, murmured "Buenos, Bonita," and took a
step as though to enter the house.

Dave barred the way. The flash of apprehension in Bonita's face, her
unnecessary repetition of the name, the man's questioning look at her,
told Sanders that this was the person he wanted.

"Just a minute, Otero. Where did you leave Miss Crawford?"

The Mexican's eyes contracted. To give himself time he fell again into
the device of pretending that he did not understand English. Dave spoke
in Spanish. The loafers in the bar-room came out to listen.

"I do not know what you mean."

"Don't lie to me. Where is she?"

The keeper of the tendejon asked a suave question. He, too, talked in
Spanish. "Who are you, senor? A deputy sheriff, perhaps?"

"No. My name is Dave Sanders. I'm Emerson Crawford's friend. If Juan will
help me save the girl he'll get off light and perhaps make some money.
I'll stand by him. But if he won't, I'll drag him back to Malapi and give
him to a mob."

The sound of his name was a potent weapon. His fame had spread like
wildfire through the hills since his return from Colorado. He had scored
victory after victory against bad men without firing a gun. He had made
the redoubtable Dug Doble an object of jeers and had driven him to the
hills as an outlaw. Dave was unarmed. They could see that. But his quiet
confidence was impressive. If he said he would take Juan to Malapi with
him, none of them doubted he would do it. Had he not dragged Miller back
to justice--Miller who was a killer of unsavory reputation?

Otero wished he had not come just now to see Bonita, but he stuck
doggedly to his statement. He knew nothing about it, nothing at all.

"Crawford is sending out a dozen posses. They will close the passes.
Doble will be caught. They will kill him like a wolf. Then they will kill
you. If they don't find him, they will kill you anyhow."

Dave spoke evenly, without raising his voice. Somehow he made what he
said seem as inevitable as fate.

Bonita caught her lover by the arm and shoulder. She was afraid, and her
conscience troubled her vicariously for his