titude. He
did not seem to know of the proximity of any other traveler, and to care
less. His handsome head was slightly thrown back, as if he was caroling
after his usual fashion, but the distance was too great to make his
melody audible to them, or to allow Barker's shout of invitation to
reach him. Suddenly he lowered his tightened rein, the mustang sprang
forward, and with a flash of silver spurs and bridle fripperies he had
disappeared. But as the trail he was pursuing crossed theirs a mile
beyond, it seemed quite possible that they should again meet him.

They were now fairly into the Boomville valley, and were entering a
narrow arroyo bordered with dusky willows which effectually excluded the
view on either side. It was the bed of a mountain torrent that in winter
descended the hillside over the trail by which they had just come, but
was now sunk into the thirsty plain between banks that varied from
two to five feet in height. The muleteer had advanced into the narrow
channel when he suddenly cast a hurried glance behind him, uttered a
"Madre de Dios!" and backed his mule and his precious freight against
the bank. The sound of hoofs on the trail in their rear had caught his
quicker ear, and as the three partners turned they beheld three horsemen
thundering down the hill towards them. They were apparently Mexican
vaqueros of the usual common swarthy type, their faces made still darker
by the black silk handkerchief tied round their heads under their stiff
sombreros. Either they were unable or unwilling to restrain their horses
in their headlong speed, and a collision in that narrow passage was
imminent, but suddenly, before reaching its entrance, they diverged
with a volley of oaths, and dashing along the left bank of the arroyo,
disappeared in the intervening willows. Divided between relief at their
escape and indignation at what seemed to be a drunken, feast-day freak
of these roystering vaqueros, the little party re-formed, when a cry
from Barker arrested them. He had just perceived a horseman motionless
in the arroyo who, although unnoticed by them, had evidently been seen
by the Mexicans. He had apparently leaped into it from the bank, and had
halted as if to witness this singular incident. As the clatter of
the vaqueros' hoofs died away he lightly leaped the bank again and
disappeared. But in that single glimpse of him they recognized Jack
Hamlin. When they reached the spot where he had halted, they could see