any." The director
clapped his hands briskly. "All over at the willows for the kid-finding
scene. Got your location picked, Farrar?"

CHAPTER IX

GABRIEL PASQUALE

A red-hot cannon ball was flaming high in the heavens when Yeager drew
out of Los Robles at a road gait. The desert winds were whispering
good-night to the sun as he crossed Dry Sandy just above the Sinks. Many
dusty miles in Sonora had been clipped off by Four Bits before the chill
moon rose above the black line of the distant hills and flooded a
transformed land with magical light, touching a parched and arid earth
to a vibrant and mysterious beauty of whispering yucca and fantastic
cactus and weird outline of mesquite.

Twice he unsaddled the bronco, hobbled it, and lay on his back with his
face to the million stars of night. The first time he gave Four Bits an
hour's rest and grazing. It was midnight when he dismounted at a
water-hole gone almost dry under many summer suns. Here he slept the
heavy, restful sleep of healthy, fatigued youth, arms and legs
sprawling, serene and peaceful, unmoving as a lifeless log.

With the first faint streaks of dawn that came flooding into the eastern
sky he was afoot, knocking together such breakfast as a rider of the
plains needs. Presently he was once more in the saddle, pushing across
the tawny, empty desert toward the hills that hid Noche Buena, the
village where Pasquale had his headquarters.

The smell of breakfast and the smoke of it were in the air when he rode
into the street lined with brown adobe huts. The guards paid no
attention to him. Gringos evidently were no unusual sight to the
troopers of the insurgent chief. Most of these were wearing blue denim
suits of overall stuff, though a few were clad in khaki. All carried
bright-colored handkerchiefs around their necks. Serapes, faded and
bright, of all hues and textures, were in evidence everywhere.

He stopped a boy in riding-boots reaching to his hips, down the sides of
which were conchas of silver dollars. Like most of those in camp the
face upturned to that of Yeager was of a strong Indian cast.

The American inquired where the general might be found.

The boy--Steve judged him not over fifteen, and he was to find many
soldiers in camp younger even than this--pointed to a square two-story
house near the center of the town.

Two sentries were on guard outside. One of these went inside with the
message of Yeager. Presently he returned, r