t
called off the Yaquis. You perhaps know that those Indians are excellent
soldiers and that there are many of them in our army."

"You mean to say they didn't go over to see if anything had happened to
the women folks?" demanded Tom, aghast.

"Their orders were positive. They could not take the time. To-day we have
news that some of our troops have crossed the Sinaloa border. These men
who passed Casa Grande were on their way to Hermosillo to guard the
capital."

"Well, it does look like you were pulling it off, don't it?" Tom's voice
was admiring in spite of himself. "What beats me, senor, is how you manage
to pump enough enthusiasm into these fellers to keep them fighting. You've
been at it nearly ten years now. In my country we'd either have put it
through by that time or given it up as a bad job and pretended we'd never
wanted it anyhow."

The Mexican laughed. "My friend," he said, seriously, "people will fight
for more than ten years with the hope of liberty and a good government
ahead of them. This time we hope to get both."

"Well, I hope you do. It's too good a country to go to the dogs. But about
this Juan Pachuca----"

"He is no business of mine," replied the Colonel, briefly. "He was out of
favor with the Carranza government and evidently hopes to get into the
saddle again through the revolution. Personally, I do not believe he will.
General Obregon is not fond of his type. Angel Gonzales is what you call
in your country a regular bad lot. I have orders in this dispatch to look
into his case. As to the automobile. I can give you an order for the car
which you saw outside--the small one. I can't spare any men."

"Mendoza's Ford?" groaned Tom. "I knew I'd draw that. Well, never mind,
senor. I'm obliged to you just the same."

The order written, Mendoza was induced to start. "What the devil are those
for?" demanded Johnson, as he saw the old Mexican putting three large cans
in the car.

"Water," replied Mendoza, tersely. "Las' time I drive him ze radiator he
leak. I mend him, but _quien sabe_? We play safe, eh?"

"My God, yes," murmured Tom. "Come on, _amigo_, it's near six and this
here's no country to be rattlin' round in a damaged Ford after dark."

The little car justified its owner's faith in it, however, for it went
along at a good clip. The road from Conejo was fairly good and they made
good time. The sun was down and the evening had set when they reached the
place where Scott and Polly had