here! Wing knew something about everything. He was
an expert veterinarian, something of a doctor, knew more of mineralogy
than all the officers put together, and could speak Spanish better
than any man in the regiment. When it became necessary to have a
signal-station at the peak and it was found that no one knew anything
about the business, Wing got one of the old red manuals, studied the
system, and inside of a week was signalling with the expert sent down
from San Francisco.

The interior of the ranch was still a smouldering furnace as four
o'clock drew nigh. Woods, weak and exhausted, had fallen into an
uneasy sleep. The trooper detailed to watch over old Plummer and Feeny
and bathe their faces with cool water was nodding over his charge.
Here and there under the shed on the north side which the flames had
not reached the men were dozing, or in low, awe-stricken tones,
talking of the tragic events of the night. Near the east gate,
reverently and decently covered with the only shroud to be had, the
newest of the saddle-blankets, lay the stiffening remains of poor
Donovan and his comrade. Lurking about the westward end of the
enclosure, their beady eyes every now and then glittering in the
fire-light, the Mexicans, men and boy, were smoking their everlasting
_papellitos_, apparently indifferent to the fate that had deprived
them of home and occupation. One of the troopers had burrowed a hole
in the sand, started a little cook fire, and was boiling some coffee
in a tin quart mug. Overhead and far down to the horizon, on every
side the stars shone and sparkled through the vaporless skies.
Eastward towards the Christobal they were just beginning to pale when
a faint voice was heard pleading for water. Sergeant Butler sprang
from his seat and hastened to where he had left Mr. Harvey but a few
minutes before, still in deep and obstinate swoon.

"Water is it, sir? Here you are! I'm glad to see you picking up a
little. Mr. Drummond left this for you, too, sir. He said you would
maybe need it." And the sergeant raised the dizzy head and held a
little flask to Harvey's lips.

"Where is he?" at last the sufferer was able to gasp.

"Overhauling the outlaws, hand over fist, by this time, sir. He has
twenty good men at his back, and we'll have the ladies safe
to-night,--see if we don't."

"Oh, God!" groaned the stricken brother, burying his face in his arms
as the recollection of the fearful events of the night came crowdin