ents were those of a sergeant of dragoons;
and all easily recognised the well-known lineaments of the sergeant
Gomez.

In a few minutes he was surrounded by a crowd of idlers, who, although
it was Sunday, were heard a few moments after breaking out into loud
acclamations of joy. Hats were uptossed and _vivas_ rent the air!

What news had Gomez announced? A rare bit of news--_the capture of the
outlaw_! It was true. Carlos had been taken, and was now a prisoner in
the hands of the soldiers. He had been captured neither by strength nor
stratagem. Treachery had done the work. He had been betrayed by one of
his own people.

It was thus his capture had been effected. Despairing for the present
of being able to communicate with Catalina, he had formed the resolution
to remove his mother and sister from the valley. He had prepared a
temporary home for them far off in the wilderness, where they would be
secure from his enemies, while he himself could return at a better
opportunity.

To effect their removal, watched as they were, he knew would be no easy
matter. But he had taken his measures, and would have succeeded had it
not been for treason. One of his own people--a peon who had accompanied
him in his last expedition--betrayed him to his vigilant foes.

Carlos was within the rancho making a few hasty preparations for the
journey. He had left his horse hidden some distance off in the
chapparal. Unfortunately for him Cibolo was not there. The faithful
dog had been laid up since his late encounter at the cave. To a peon
had been assigned the duty that would otherwise have been intrusted to
him--that of keeping watch without.

This wretch had been previously bought by Roblado and Vizcarra. The
result was, that, instead of acting as sentinel for his master, he
hastened to warn his enemies. The rancho was surrounded by a troop;
and, although several of his assailants were killed by the hand of
Carlos, he himself was finally overpowered and taken.

Gomez had not been five minutes in the Plaza when a bugle was heard
sounding the advance of a troop, which the next moment defiled into the
open square. Near its middle was the prisoner, securely tied upon the
back of a saddle-mule, and guarded by a double file of troopers.

An arrival of such interest was soon known, and the Plaza became filled
with a crowd eager to gratify its curiosity by a sight of the notorious
cibolero.

But he was not the only one upon