ds
farther the Kid stopped the roan and gazed intently through the
prickly openings. Then he dismounted, dropped the roan's reins, and
proceeded on foot, stooping and silent, like an Indian. The roan,
knowing his part, stood still, making no sound.

The Kid crept noiselessly to the very edge of the pear thicket and
reconnoitred between the leaves of a clump of cactus.

Ten yards from his hiding-place, in the shade of the /jacal/, sat his
Tonia calmly plaiting a rawhide lariat. So far she might surely escape
condemnation; women have been known, from time to time, to engage in
more mischievous occupations. But if all must be told, there is to be
added that her head reposed against the broad and comfortable chest of
a tall red-and-yellow man, and that his arm was about her, guiding her
nimble fingers that required so many lessons at the intricate six-
strand plait.

Sandridge glanced quickly at the dark mass of pear when he heard a
slight squeaking sound that was not altogether unfamiliar. A gun-
scabbard will make that sound when one grasps the handle of a six-
shooter suddenly. But the sound was not repeated; and Tonia's fingers
needed close attention.

And then, in the shadow of death, they began to talk of their love;
and in the still July afternoon every word they uttered reached the
ears of the Kid.

"Remember, then," said Tonia, "you must not come again until I send
for you. Soon he will be here. A /vaquero/ at the /tienda/ said to-day
he saw him on the Guadalupe three days ago. When he is that near he
always comes. If he comes and finds you here he will kill you. So, for
my sake, you must come no more until I send you the word."

"All right," said the stranger. "And then what?"

"And then," said the girl, "you must bring your men here and kill him.
If not, he will kill you."

"He ain't a man to surrender, that's sure," said Sandridge. "It's kill
or be killed for the officer that goes up against Mr. Cisco Kid."

"He must die," said the girl. "Otherwise there will not be any peace
in the world for thee and me. He has killed many. Let him so die.
Bring your men, and give him no chance to escape."

"You used to think right much of him," said Sandridge.

Tonia dropped the lariat, twisted herself around, and curved a lemon-
tinted arm over the ranger's shoulder.

"But then," she murmured in liquid Spanish, "I had not beheld thee,
thou great, red mountain of a man! And thou art kind and good, as well
as st