Brent, mounted on one of the thoroughbreds, lost no time in heading for Sanborn and the railroad, once he had ridden clear of the running skirmish with the northerners.  He surmised that Pete and Brevoort would make for Sanborn—­and they had The Spider’s money.  Brent also knew that he had a faster horse than either of them.  If he could reach Sanborn ahead of them, he would have the advantage of cover—­and of taking them by surprise . . .

The country was fairly open from the eastern boundary of the Olla to within a few miles of Sanborn, where a veritable forest of cacti had sprung up—­one of those peculiar patches of desert growth, outlined in a huge square as definitely as though it had been planted by man.  The wagon-road passed close to the northern edge of this freakish forest, and having passed, swung off toward the railroad, which it finally paralleled.  It was in this vantage-ground of heavy shadow that Brent had planned to waylay Brevoort and Pete.  To avoid chance discovery, Brent had ridden considerably out of his way to keep clear of the regular trail from the Olla to Sanborn, and had lost more time than he realized.  Brevoort, on the contrary, had taken the regular trail, which joined the main wagon-road.

Pete and Brevoort rode easily, as the local made the Sanborn stop at six in the morning.  Moreover, they did not care to spend any great length of time in Sanborn.  They had planned to leave their horses at the livery stable—­to be called for later.

At first they talked of the raid, the probable fate of Ortez and his men, and of Arguilla’s flight.  And from that they came to considering their own plans which, if successful, would find them in El Paso with several thousand dollars which belonged in reality to Arguilla’s backers.  There was an unvoiced but evident understanding between them that they would keep together so long as safety permitted.  Pete had made up his mind to look for work on some southern ranch—­and have done with the high trails of outlawry.  Brevoort, falling into his mood, as much because he liked Pete as anything else, had decided to “throw in” with him.  Had Pete suggested robbing a bank, or holding up a train, the big, easy-going Texan would have fallen in with the suggestion quite as readily, not because Pete had any special influence over him, but purely because Pete’s sprightliness amused and interested him.  Moreover, Pete was a partner that could be depended upon in fair weather or foul.

Their plan once made, they became silent, each busy with his own more intimate thoughts:  Brevoort wondering what Pete would say if he were to suggest dividing the money and making for the coast and Alaska—­and Pete endeavoring to reconcile himself to the idea that The Spider was actually Boca’s father.  For Pete had been thinking of Boca, even while he had been talking with Brevoort.  It seemed that he always thought of her just before some hidden danger