n shed its rays upon the saddle and Kendric saw something else at
the horn; a bunch of little blue field flowers, held in place by a bit
of white ribbon.

He snatched the flowers down angrily, trampled on them, ground them
under foot. They seemed to him a bit of Zoraida herself; they taunted
him, they bore the message she sent. They were her summons to come
back to her. He jerked free the tie rope and swung up into the saddle,
eager and anxious to go back to her the swiftest way in order that the
time might come the more swiftly when he could fulfil his word and be
free to leave her. He'd get a rifle from Bruce; with that and his
revolver he'd take his chance, let all of her infernal rabble bar the
way.

From the rear of the house he called to Bruce.

"I've found my horse; they left him behind," he said as Bruce came out.
"I've got to go back, so back I go the quickest I know how. Take
decent care of Barlow; he was a real man once and may be again, if he
can shake that damned woman off. Lend me a rifle if you can spare it.
I'll see you again as soon as the Lord lets me. So long."

"So long, Jim," returned Bruce drearily. He brought out a rifle,
holding it out wordlessly. And Kendric rode away into the night.

In the mountains, though in another narrow pass, he was stopped as he
had been this morning. A lantern was flashed in his face and over his
horse. Then he was allowed to go on while from the darkness a voice
cried after him:

"_Viva La Senorita_!"

From afar he saw lights burning down in the valley and recognized them
as the lamps in the four wall towers. The gates were closed but at his
call a man appeared from the shadows and opened to him. He rode in;
dismounting, he let the rifle slip into a hiding place in the
shrubbery; another man at the front corridor took his horse. At about
midnight he again entered the old adobe building. The main hall into
which he stepped through the front door was still brightly lighted with
its several lamps; through open doors he saw that nowhere in the house
were lights out. Yet it was very quiet; he heard neither voice nor
step.

He knew where Zoraida was; no doubt Rios and Escobar were with her. He
had kept his word and returned to his prison like a good dog; what
reason why he should not take advantage of what appeared an unusual
opportunity and make his attempt at escape? Zoraida would not have
counted on his returning so early; he carried a revolv