unarmed, can you?"

"Never mind me. You stay here till I come for you. If anybody bothers you,
you shoot. Understand?"

"Yes, I do."

Scott proceeded to climb cautiously out of the arroyo and in a moment was
out of Polly's sight. He looked back once and saw the girl standing where
he had left her, holding the reins of the two horses, her eyes big with
excitement, watching his every movement. He waved his hand, then turned
his back upon her.

"That's a good youngster," he said to himself. "Plenty of spunk but knows
when to mind. I'm afraid that if I was ten years younger I might make a
fool of myself--for she'd never look at me."

The spot at which he had left the sheltering arroyo was two or three
hundred feet from the cabin in which he was living with Hard and Adams.
His idea was to steal into the house from the rear, arm himself, and then
see what he could do, though, of course, he realized that their small
force could do little against Pachuca, who not only had some twenty-five
or thirty men of his own, but who could easily count on the Mexicans who
worked on the place.

As he walked quickly in the direction of the house, he noticed Pachuca,
for he it was on the sorrel horse, giving orders loudly in Spanish to his
men who were scattered around the place--many of them down at the corral.
He did not see any of his own people, which puzzled him a little. As he
entered his cabin and crossed the living-room to go to the bedroom, where
he kept an extra gun, he nearly stumbled over the body of a man.

It was Adams, lying in the middle of the room, dead--or had the boy only
fainted? Scott rummaged in the cupboard for the whiskey bottle and poured
a bit of the liquor down his throat. Jimmy opened his eyes and stared
dizzily around. Scott saw that the floor around him was covered with
blood.

"What is it, boy? Those hounds shoot you?" he demanded. Adams grinned
shakily.

"You've hit it, brainy one," he muttered. "Help me into a chair, Scotty, I
ain't dead, only winged in the left hin' leg."

Scott lifted him gently and placed him in the chair, then went into his
room and secured the gun. He brought a towel back with him and staunched
the flow of blood from the leg with a clumsily fashioned bandage.

"He busted in on us while we were taking our afternoon naps," said Jimmy,
weakly. "I happened to be taking mine in the office as per usual. I saw
Pachuca riding up so I grabbed my gun and beat it for the door. They had