be useless. "You have
the reata?" she queried, and turning led him past the corral and along
the fence until they came to the stream. A few hundred yards down the
stream she turned, and cautioning him to follow closely, entered a sort
of lateral canon--a veritable box at whose farther end was Flores's
cache of horses, kept in this hidden pasture for any immediate need.
Pete heard the quick trampling of hoofs and the snort of startled
horses.

"We will drive them on into the corral," said Boca.

Pete could see but dimly, but he sensed the situation at once. The
canon was a box, narrowing to a natural enclosure with the open end
fenced. He had seen such places--called "traps" by men who made a
business of catching wild horses.

Several dim shapes bunched in the small enclosure, plunging and
circling as Pete found and closed the bars.

"The yellow horse is of the desert--and very strong," said Boca.

"They all look alike to me," laughed Pete. "It's mighty dark, right
now." He slipped through the bars and shook out his rope. The horses
crowded away from him as he followed. A shape reared and backed. Pete
flipped the noose and set his heels as the rope snapped taut. He held
barely enough slack to make the snubbing-post, but finally took a turn
round it and fought the horse up. "Blamed if he ain't the buckskin,"
panted Pete.

The sweat dripped from his face as he bridled and saddled the half-wild
animal. It was doubly hard work in the dark. Then he came to the
corral bars where Boca stood. "I'm all hooked up, Boca."

"Then I shall go back for the cantina and the food."

"I'll go right along with you. I'll wait at the other corral."

Pete followed her and sat a nervous horse until she reappeared, with
the canteen and package of food. The hot wind purred and whispered
round them. Above, the stars struggled dimly through the haze. Pete
reached down and took her hand. She had barely touched his fingers
when the horse shied and reared.

"If Malvey he kill you--I shall kill him!" she whispered fiercely.

"I'm comin' back," said Pete.

A shadow flung across the night; and Boca. was standing gazing into
the black wall through which the shadow had plunged. Far up the trail
she could hear quick hoofbeats, and presently above the drone of the
wind came a faint musical "Adios! Adios!"

She dared not call back to him for fear of waking her father, in spite
of the fact that she knew he was drugged bey