g in Spanish, and, waving his hand toward
the camp-fire, added in English, "Get down and eat."

The guerrillas were anything but slow in complying. They crowded to
the fire, then spread in a little circle and squatted upon the ground,
laying their weapons beside them. In appearance they tallied with the
band of guerrillas that had carried Madeline up into the foothills, only
this band was larger and better armed. The men, moreover, were just as
hungry and as wild and beggarly. The cowboys were not cordial in their
reception of this visit, but they were hospitable. The law of the desert
had always been to give food and drink to wayfaring men, whether lost or
hunted or hunting.

"There's twenty-three in that outfit," whispered Ambrose, "includin'
four white men. Pretty rummy outfit."

"They appear to be friendly enough," whispered Madeline.

"Things down there ain't what they seem," replied Ambrose.

"Ambrose, tell me--explain to me. This is my opportunity. As long as you
will let me watch them, please let me know the--the real thing."

"Sure. But recollect, Miss Hammond, that Gene'll give it to me good if
he ever knows I let you look and told you what's what. Well, decent-like
Gene is seen' them poor devils get a square meal. They're only a lot of
calf-thieves in this country. Across the border they're bandits, some of
them, the others just riffraff outlaws. That rebel bluff doesn't go down
with us. I'd have to see first before I'd believe them Greasers would
fight. They're a lot of hard-ridin' thieves, and they'd steal a fellow's
blanket or tobacco. Gene thinks they're after you ladies--to carry you
off. But Gene--Oh, Gene's some highfalutin in his ideas lately. Most of
us boys think the guerrillas are out to rob--that's all."

Whatever might have been the secret motive of Don Carlos and his men,
they did not allow it to interfere with a hearty appreciation of a
generous amount of food. Plainly, each individual ate all that he was
able to eat at the time. They jabbered like a flock of parrots; some
were even merry, in a kind of wild way. Then, as each and every one
began to roll and smoke the inevitable cigarette of the Mexican, there
was a subtle change in manner. They smoked and looked about the camp,
off into the woods, up at the crags, and back at the leisurely cowboys.
They had the air of men waiting for something.

"Senor," began Don Carlos, addressing Stewart. As he spoke he swept his
sombrero to indicate