ent
scurrying from the shelter of some stunted brush straight toward the
ranch, whence presently a bright light shone forth and loud voices
harshly shouted the name of Pancha! Pancha! whose wrist he still
grasped--Pancha! who, weeping, had implored him to hasten with all his
men, that the stage was not three miles away with officers from Grant
aboard, that wicked men had planned to murder them to prevent their
joining him, and now, in terror, she sought to break away. She begged
him to release her. They would kill her if they knew----

And even as she pleaded, far out on the dark, eastward plain there
suddenly uprose a chorus of yells, a rattling fusillade, and Blake
darted back to the bivouac, shouting as he ran, "Up with you, 'C' troop!
Mount, men, mount!" and then all was stir and bustle and excitement.
Springing from their blanket beds the troopers threw their carbine
slings over their shoulders and flew to their horses. "Never mind your
saddles--no time for that!" yelled Blake, as he slipped the bit between
the teeth of his startled charger, then threw himself astride the naked
back. "Up with you and come on!" Then with a dozen ready fellows at his
heels away he darted into the gloom, guided only by the yells and
flashes far out over the sandy plain. In less than two minutes every
trooper in the little command had gone spurring in pursuit, and
Lieutenant Loring, suddenly aroused from slumber, revolver in hand,
looking eagerly about for explanation of the row, found himself standing
guard over his treasure-laden saddle-bags--utterly alone.

Then came the whish of a riata through the pulseless air, the quick
whir-r-r of the horse-hair rope through the loop as it settled down over
his head, a snap as it flew taut, a sudden and violent shock as his feet
were jerked from under him, the crack of his revolver--aimless, a
stunning blow on his prostrate head, then oblivion.

CHAPTER IX.

A week later the surgeon at Camp Cooke found himself minus one of his
ambulances after all. In response to a penciled note from Blake it had
been hurried from what there was of the shack aggregation at that point
to what was left of Sancho's, Major Starke and the doctor with it. They
found much of the corral in ruins and one end of the rancho badly
scorched. "The wife of my brother," with Pancha, and that ceremonious
copy of the Castilian himself had disappeared, but Sancho was still
there, a much wronged man, and Pedro and Jose