," and Blake stirred
uneasily.

"Wonder what that old thief is giving them," muttered he. "Uncle
Billy's telling his bear story."

Quarter of an hour passed. The infant moon had sunk below the westward
horizon. The sounds of joviality increased, and Blake's mouth watered.
"Damn those heartless profligates!" he muttered. "Reckon I'll have to go
and reconnoiter. You don't mind being left to your own reflections,
Loring?"

"Go ahead," said Loring, and so presently the tall, shadowy form of "the
longest-legged officer in Arizona" was dimly seen stalking forth from
the gloom of the willows and threading its way through the open
starlight toward the bright and welcoming doorways of the ranch. Only
one or two of the usual loungers had been seen about the premises since
the cavalry came in. Sancho and his brother were practically destitute
of other guests than the officers whom they were entertaining. Slowly
and more slowly did the lieutenant saunter, open-eared, toward the scene
of revelry. More than half the distance had he gone when, suddenly from
another and smaller clump of willows below the ranch there came
floating on the still night, faint and cautious, the musical tinkle of a
guitar, and then soft, luring, yet hardly sweet or silvery, the voice of
a girl was timidly uplifted in song. Blake knew it at once. "The
daughter of my brother" was out there in the willows, a most unusual
thing. Blake remembered how her eyes had spoken to him twice before, how
she had thrown herself upon him the night of Higgins' arrest. Could it
be, was it possible, that she was signaling to him now? Much as his
curiosity and interest had previously been aroused by the occasional
peeps he had had at this attractive little Mexican girl, the events of
that night had intensified them. True, it was a moment of thrilling
excitement. Higgins, cornered like a rat, had drawn and fired, not with
either aim or idea of shooting his accuser, but in the hope of so
startling both officers that in the confusion he could leap to the back
doorway and escape. Loring's imperturbable nerve and practiced fist had
defeated that scheme and laid the deserter low, and Higgins was now
languishing at Yuma, awaiting trial on triple charges. But Blake for a
second or two had felt the clasp of soft arms about him, the wild
flutter of a maiden heart much below his own, and Blake was human.
Somewhere he had met that slender girl before. Twice he had danced at
the _bailes_