ar, had ended the lives of their captives.

So there was this nerve-racking pall of gloom hanging over all, and to
this was added the hard physical work of keeping to a difficult trail,
with danger besetting on every hand.

That there was danger, not the most optimistic of them would have
denied. There was danger in urging one's horse up a narrow path
overhanging some gorge.

There was danger that some lurking Yaqui, unable to keep up with the
main body of Mike's men, might send a bullet into the back of one of
the rescuers. Or Mike could have posted a party in ambush at any one
of a dozen places along the trail, there to surprise and kill off a
number of the vengeful whites following him.

All this made it exceedingly hard for the boy ranchers and their
friends, but they were never daunted. On they urged their weary
ponies, and the trail was as hard on horseflesh as it was on man and
youth.

Still no one complained. Even Bud bore without remark the pain of his
wounded hand, and it was a most painful injury. However Captain
Marshall had no small skill with what primitive remedies they had with
them, and he saved Bud from the necessity of a surgical operation
later, as the wound was kept clean, so that it healed from within.

Though once, when it had grown shut, with the possible danger of pus
forming within, and had to be opened, poor Bud saw everything getting
black before his eyes. And it was only by gritting his teeth, and
remembering how, it was said, Indians bit bullets in twain in the
excess of their agony before uttering a groan, that the lad prevented
himself from fainting under the captain's ministrations.

So night settled down on the second day of their rush forward on the
trail of Mike and those he held captive.

"You get to bed and take it easy," Nort said to Bud, when the latter
talked of standing guard, after camp had been made.

"That's right," agreed Dick. "There's enough of us without you."

"But I don't want to be a quitter!" Bud said. "And we're so close to
Mike and his gang now--or we ought to be--that there may be an attack
any hour."

"The Yaquis won't attack at night," declared Rolling Stone. "They're
too lazy!"

This, indeed, is characteristic of many Indian tribes, though perhaps
the real reason may be based on superstition instead of objection to
exertion.

However, Bud allowed himself to be pursuaded to take his ease rolled up
in his blankets. There were no tents, a