?"

"Here; this way," answered Feeny, standing erect and peering sharply
through the gloom. "I've never met you, Mr. Harvey, but we all know
you by reputation. Just tell me your business and how you happen to be
riding the desert this time of night and then I'll tell you why I
ask."

"I am expecting my son and daughters coming up from Yuma. We were to
meet at Moreno's this evening; but a scouting-party in the mountains
warned us to hide until night, so we're late. Have they reached
Moreno's? We must be close there."

"You're close enough to Moreno's; it's not a hundred yards back there;
but that light across the valley is the warning beacon at Picacho.
They would hardly venture across knowing what that means."

"Why, my God, man!" exclaimed Harvey, "that says the Apaches are out
west of the Santa Maria or the Christobal. Have you seen,--have you
heard anything of them?"

"For the love of God, sir, don't ask me now. Come to the ranch. Major
Plummer's there,--the paymaster. He'll tell you all we know."

A moment more and, with glaring eyes, with agonized, ashen face, the
Arizona merchant stood at the entrance of the ranch, clinging to the
horse-rail for support, listening with gasping breath to Plummer's
faltering recital of the events of the morning.

"Are you sure it was my son,--my Ned?" he moaned.

"I never saw him before, Mr. Harvey; but some of my men were sure, and
old Moreno here--"

The wooden shutter behind them swung open. From the inner darkness
Moreno's voice, tremulous with sympathy and distress, fell upon their
ears.

"Senor Harvey, my heart bleeds for you. I saw him but an instant, but
it was he,--Senor Edward, your son."

"God of heaven! and your men have gone, all of them?"

"All but Feeny here."

"Northeast, towards the Christobal?"

"Yes; but stop one moment now, and look at this note. Is it your son's
writing?" And Plummer produced the crumpled page while Feeny held the
light. Feverishly Harvey examined the scrawl, his hand trembling so
hard he could not steady the paper.

"It is like enough," he moaned. "It was written in such mad haste. My
horse!" he cried, "and you come with me, George. Send the others on
our trail as soon as they get in. Give me another pistol if you
can,--I have but one,--and in God's name order along the first troops
that reach you."

Then in less than a minute even the galloping hoofs had muffled their
dull thunder in the darkness and distance. With wild d