and perhaps
they'll know something about it there."

Investigation revealed the fact that Mendoza had succeeded in getting his
car out of town without attracting the attention of anyone but his
dish-washing compatriot. When it leaked out that there was a kidnapping
involved, the chivalrous instincts of Chula Vista were aroused. Horses
were eagerly offered and a posse was to be formed as soon as Sam Penhallow
could be located. Unfortunately, the only machine in town, owned by the
sheriff, had been loaned that morning to Ed Merriam who had driven it over
to the railroad junction. In an incredibly short time, Scott and Hard were
clattering down the road which the three Mexicans had taken half an hour
before.

"It's useless, of course," grunted Scott "They'll meet the car and shake
the horses before we can get to them; but, by God, Hard, I'll get that boy
if I have to comb New Mexico for him."

Hard was trying to be optimistic, but on a strange horse and with a lame
knee, optimism came with difficulty. "I may be wrong, Scott," he said,
between jolts; "but Pachuca doesn't seem to me to be just that kind of a
scamp. He'd elope with your wife in a second if she gave him an
opportunity, but I can't seem to see him carrying off your sweetheart
against her will. There is such a thing as type, you know."

"In Boston, maybe. Out here a man's decent or he ain't," growled the
other.

Hard relapsed into reflection. The road they were traveling forked at
about a mile out of town. Ahead of them, it continued on the flat; to
their left it became narrower and wound toward the foothills, remaining,
however, a road possible for a car or a wagon.

"Which?" queried Hard, looking ahead as the fork became visible.

"The left," replied Scott. "They'll hit out for the hills. The other road
goes along the railroad tracks."

"I don't think so," muttered Hard. "I think they'll stick to a good road."
But Scott had spurred his horse. Hard followed him a moment in silence,
then he called: "Scott, I hear a machine! By Jove, I see it--it's coming
toward us, down the main road."

Scott pulled up his horse. They peered into the dusk ahead of them. The
car was coming toward them.

"You brought a gun, I suppose?" he asked.

Hard nodded. "What do we do?"

"Hold 'em up." They pulled their horses down to a walk. "No headlights,"
observed Scott. "We'll keep this side of that little rise. If they haven't
seen us, they won't see us till they're on