hing else. They
were miles apart. Centuries of belief and training separated them.

"You don't know?" Lopez said. "Pretty soon you find out. It surprise you
now. But pretty damn soon when all shall go and leave you alone wiz 'er,
you shall be sensible, too--like Mexican. To live is more strong as law.
Wait and see, my frand, wait and see!" He shook his head mysteriously.

Pedro stepped forward. "Here is a pistol," he said to his master in
Spanish.

Lopez looked at him. "Ah, _gratia_, Pedro!" He took the weapon from him and
patted him on the back. Then he whispered something in his ear, handed it
back, and Pedro gave it to Gilbert.

"Ze ranger. Zey come," he said as he did so.

"_Bueno._ I go," said Lopez, and started toward the door. Then he turned to
Gilbert. "_Astuavago adios._ Maybe we will meet again, maybe no. _Quien
sabe?_" He waved his hand, gave one last look at Pell's limp form, and
cried, "_Adios!_" He was gone--vanished like a ghost.

They all were mute in the little room. They heard the hoof beats of the
horses as they galloped away. Fainter and fainter grew the sound. Then
silence. And meanwhile the great night was falling like a curtain around
them all. Through the doorway came the last beautiful beams of the sun. The
mountains were like giant sentinels, row on row, unbelievably near in the
semi-darkness. Far off, now and then, a bird could be heard calling. Soon
darkness would envelop the earth, and this day of doom would be gone
forever. Never might they see Pancho Lopez again. Gilbert would go north;
and Lucia--He could not think.

Hardy broke the silence. He came over and looked down at Pell. "We can't
touch him till the coroner gits here," he said grimly. There were, as
always, ghastly details to be attended to.

"But I better make sure," said "Red," kneeling beside the body. "Right in
the head. Not a chance." He was peering down at the gaunt face. "No, not a
chance when you get it there."

Angela, hearing something outside, had rushed to the door and looked into
the growing darkness. "I thought--What was that?" she exclaimed.

They all listened. Far off a shot could be heard--then another. But it must
have been miles away.

"Red" sprang up. "Rangers!" he cried. "They're shooting!"

"Where are they?" Hardy asked.

"In the arroyo," "Red" replied. He was at the window, looking out. "You'll
see 'em in a minute."

The sound of shots came nearer. It was as though a miniature army were
stor