“Rojas an’ his men vamoosed without a shot.  That ain’t surprisin’.  There wasn’t a shot fired by anybody.  The cavalrymen soon found Thorne an’ hurried with him back on Uncle Sam’s land.  Thorne was half naked, black an’ blue all over, thin as a rail.  He looked mighty sick when I seen him first.  That was a little after midday.  He was given food an’ drink.  Shore he seemed a starved man.  But he picked up wonderful, an’ by the time Jim came along he was wantin’ to start for Forlorn River.  So was Nell.  By main strength as much as persuasion we kept the two of them quiet till next evenin’ at dark.

“Well, we made as sneaky a start in the dark as Jim an’ me could manage, an’ never hit the trail till we was miles from town.  Thorne’s nerve held him up for a while.  Then all at once he tumbled out of his saddle.  We got him back, an’ Lash held him on.  Nell didn’t give out till daybreak.”

As Ladd paused in his story Belding began to stutter, and finally he exploded.  His mighty utterances were incoherent.  But plainly the wrath he had felt toward the wilful girl was forgotten.  Gale remained gripped by silence.

“I reckon you’ll all be some surprised when you see Casita,” went on Ladd.  “It’s half burned an’ half tore down.  An’ the rebels are livin’ fat.  There was rumors of another federal force on the road from Casa Grandes.  I seen a good many Americans from interior Mexico, an’ the stories they told would make your hair stand up.  They all packed guns, was fightin’ mad at Greasers, an’ sore on the good old U. S. But shore glad to get over the line!  Some were waitin’ for trains, which don’t run reg’lar no more, an’ others were ready to hit the trails north.”

“Laddy, what knocks me is Rojas holding Thorne prisoner, trying to make him tell where Mercedes had been hidden,” said Belding.

“Shore.  It ’d knock anybody.”

“The bandit’s crazy over her.  That’s the Spanish of it,” replied Belding, his voice rolling.  “Rojas is a peon.  He’s been a slave to the proud Castilian.  He loves Mercedes as he hates her.  When I was down in Durango I saw something of these peons’ insane passions.  Rojas wants this girl only to have her, then kill her.  It’s damn strange, boys, and even with Thorne here our troubles have just begun.”

“Tom, you spoke correct,” said Jim Ladd, in his cool drawl.

“Shore I’m not sayin’ what I think,” added Ladd.  But the look of him was not indicative of a tranquil optimism.

Thorne was put to bed in Gale’s room.  He was very weak, yet he would keep Mercedes’s hand and gaze at her with unbelieving eyes.  Mercedes’s failing hold on hope and strength seemed to have been a fantasy; she was again vivid, magnetic, beautiful, shot through and through with intense and throbbing life.  She induced him to take food and drink.  Then, fighting sleep with what little strength he had left, at last he succumbed.