taken the trail. Mendoza stopped the car.

"Lots of men been by here," he said. "Soldiers or bandits--mebbe bot'."

"What d'ye mean?" demanded Tom, waking up. "How can you tell?"

"Don' have to be Injun to know dat. See tracks," grunted Mendoza. "Mebbe
hundred men come here from trail, _amigo_."

Tom looked. The banks of the river were broken and trodden by the feet of
many horses. Even in the dim light he could see that, though he would
never have noticed it for himself. He admitted when Mendoza persisted that
it did look as though a large party of horsemen had crossed the river.

"Well, they've passed anyhow, so we should worry. Got a gun?"

"_Si_," grinned Mendoza, cheerfully, "I always got a gun."

"Hold on, what's this?" They had come around the corner and saw, by the
edge of the road, the wrecked wagon. "That's Herrick's wagon," said Tom,
excitedly. "In the ditch!" He got down and went to investigate.

"Wheel's busted. Horses must have got scared and bolted round the curve,"
said the engineer, meditatively. "Nothin' in the wagon. Looks bad to me;
don't it to you, Mendoza?"

"_Si_," responded Mendoza. "We go by Soria's place. He know mebbe what
happen."

"All right," assented Tom, sadly. "If they'd got away on the horses seems
to me we'd have seen or heard somethin' of them on the road. Unless they
went by the trail--in that case them fellers on horseback would have met
'em. Well, step on your gas, Mendoza, and let's get to Soria's."

Soria's place was empty. Not a child, nor a dog, nor a burro. Not a sign
of life on the place anywhere. This was a blow and intensified Tom's
gloomy fears. He did not speak as they drove on to Casa Grande. The moon
was coming up and they saw the badly burned ruins of the barn as they
turned in.

"Ze house is lef'," said Mendoza, consolingly.

"Yes, it is," said Tom. "But look at them windows! Riddled with bullets.
The boys must have put up a good fight with them Indians, anyhow. Tell you
what, Mendoza, I'd give a good deal to see old Scotty's ugly mug in one of
'em! Come on, we may as well go in," and he stepped apprehensively out of
the car.

CHAPTER XVII

AT SORIA'S

Hard and Mrs. Conrad stared at each other in whimsical dismay as the other
couple rode away. Then they looked at the suitcases carefully tucked away
in the brush.

"Not much of a hiding place," observed Hard, "but it's better than leaving
them in the wagon."

"And decidedly better than carr