bandits, raiders in rioting bands had spread westward. Like troops of
Arabs, magnificently mounted, they were here, there, everywhere along
the line; and if murder and worse were confined to the Mexican side,
pillage and raiding were perpetrated across the border. Many a
dark-skinned raider bestrode one of Belding's fast horses, and indeed
all except his selected white thoroughbreds had been stolen. So the
job of the rangers had become more than a patrolling of the boundary
line to keep Japanese and Chinese from being smuggled into the United
States. Belding kept close at home to protect his family and to hold
his property. But the three rangers, in fulfilling their duty had
incurred risks on their own side of the line, had been outraged,
robbed, pursued, and injured on the other. Some of the few waterholes
that had to be reached lay far across the border in Mexican territory.
Horses had to drink, men had to drink; and Ladd and Lash were not of
the stripe that forsook a task because of danger. Slow to wrath at
first, as became men who had long lived peaceful lives, they had at
length revolted; and desert vultures could have told a gruesome story.
Made a comrade and ally of these bordermen, Dick Gale had leaped at the
desert action and strife with an intensity of heart and a rare physical
ability which accounted for the remarkable fact that he had not yet
fallen by the way.

On this December afternoon the three rangers, as often, were separated.
Lash was far to the westward of Sonoyta, somewhere along Camino del
Diablo, that terrible Devil's Road, where many desert wayfarers had
perished. Ladd had long been overdue in a prearranged meeting with
Gale. The fact that Ladd had not shown up miles west of the Papago
Well was significant.

The sun had hidden behind clouds all the latter part of that day, an
unusual occurrence for that region even in winter. And now, as the
light waned suddenly, telling of the hidden sunset, a cold dry,
penetrating wind sprang up and blew in Gale's face. Not at first, but
by imperceptible degrees it chilled him. He untied his coat from the
back of the saddle and put it on. A few cold drops of rain touched his
cheek.

He halted upon the edge of a low escarpment. Below him the narrowing
valley showed bare, black ribs of rock, long, winding gray lines
leading down to a central floor where mesquite and cactus dotted the
barren landscape. Moving objects, diminutive in size, gray and