pearance, came forward to greet the
intruders.

Valdez exchanged greetings with them. He knew something of the loneliness
of these people's lives, and the only religion he had was a belief that
one must be friendly to travellers. He produced a flask and invited the
old men to drink; and each did so with much nice formality and thoroughly
comprehensive toasts to Harboro and Sylvia.

Then Valdez replaced his flask in his pocket.

"God go with you!" he called as he went away, and "God go with you!" came
back the placid, kindly echo.

And Sylvia realized suddenly that it was a very good thing indeed to be
riding along that golden road through the desert.

CHAPTER XIX

Harboro became aware that some one was staring almost insolently at
Sylvia.

They were seated on one of the benches disposed around the side of the
stockade, and there was a great deal of noise all about them. In the open
space of the stockade a score or more of young men and women were dancing
to the music of violins and flutes and 'cellos. Nearly all who were not
dancing were talking or laughing. People who did not see one another for
months at a time were meeting and expressing their pleasure in staccato
showers of words.

There were other noises in the near-by corral, in which Valdez had put
their horses away with the other horses; and in still another place the
work of barbecuing large quantities of meat had begun. A pleasant odor
from the fire and the meat floated fitfully over the stockade. There was
still an almost singular absence of wind, and the night was warm for a
midwinter night.

Valdez was remaining for the time being with his guests, and he was making
friendly comments upon the scene.

"It's chiefly the young people who are dancing now," he observed. "But
you'll notice men and women of all ages around in the seats. They will
become intoxicated with the joy of it all--and maybe with other
things--later in the night, and then the dancing will begin in earnest."

For the moment an old type of fandango was being danced--a dance not
wholly unlike a quadrille, in that it admitted a number of persons to the
set and afforded opportunity for certain individual exhibitions of skill.

And then Harboro, glancing beyond Valdez, observed that a man of mature
years--a Mexican--was regarding Sylvia fixedly. He could not help
believing that there was something of insolence, too, in the man's gaze.

He lowered his voice and spoke to Vald