oeuvre_ of wit, and as
such he cherished her. He caught flies for her, and shielded her from
sudden northers. Yet his care was half selfish, and when the time came
she repaid him a thousand fold. Other Muriels have thus overbalanced
the light attentions of other Jimmies.

Not at once did Jimmy Hayes attain full brotherhood with his comrades.
They loved him for his simplicity and drollness, but there hung above
him a great sword of suspended judgment. To make merry in camp is not
all of a ranger's life. There are horse-thieves to trail, desperate
criminals to run down, bravos to battle with, bandits to rout out of
the chaparral, peace and order to be compelled at the muzzle of a
six-shooter. Jimmy had been "'most generally a cow-puncher," he said;
he was inexperienced in ranger methods of warfare. Therefore the
rangers speculated apart and solemnly as to how he would stand fire.
For, let it be known, the honour and pride of each ranger company is
the individual bravery of its members.

For two months the border was quiet. The rangers lolled, listless,
in camp. And then--bringing joy to the rusting guardians of the
frontier--Sebastiano Saldar, an eminent Mexican desperado and
cattle-thief, crossed the Rio Grande with his gang and began to lay
waste the Texas side. There were indications that Jimmy Hayes would
soon have the opportunity to show his mettle. The rangers patrolled
with alacrity, but Saldar's men were mounted like Lochinvar, and were
hard to catch.

One evening, about sundown, the rangers halted for supper after a
long ride. Their horses stood panting, with their saddles on. The
men were frying bacon and boiling coffee. Suddenly, out of the
brush, Sebastiano Saldar and his gang dashed upon them with blazing
six-shooters and high-voiced yells. It was a neat surprise. The
rangers swore in annoyed tones, and got their Winchesters busy; but
the attack was only a spectacular dash of the purest Mexican type.
After the florid demonstration the raiders galloped away, yelling,
down the river. The rangers mounted and pursued; but in less than two
miles the fagged ponies laboured so that Lieutenant Manning gave the
word to abandon the chase and return to the camp.

Then it was discovered that Jimmy Hayes was missing. Some one
remembered having seen him run for his pony when the attack began, but
no one had set eyes on him since. Morning came, but no Jimmy. They
searched the country around, on the theory that he had b