The ranger talked for two hours—­talked till his voice weakened to a husky whisper.  At the conclusion of his story there was an impressive silence.  Then Elsie Gale stood up, and with her hand on Dick’s shoulder, her eyes bright and warm as sunlight, she showed the rangers what a woman thought of them and of the Yaqui.  Nell clung to Dick, weeping silently.  Mrs. Gale was overcome, and Mr. Gale, very white and quiet, helped her up to her room.

“The Indian! the Indian!” burst out Belding, his voice deep and rolling.  “What did I tell you?  Didn’t I say he’d be a godsend?  Remember what I said about Yaqui and some gory Aztec knifework?  So he cut Rojas loose from that awful crater wall, foot by foot, finger by finger, slow and terrible?  And Rojas didn’t hang long on the choya thorns?  Thank the Lord for that!...Laddy, no story of Camino del Diablo can hold a candle to yours.  The flight and the fight were jobs for men.  But living through this long hot summer and coming out—­that’s a miracle.  Only the Yaqui could have done it.  The Yaqui!  The Yaqui!”

“Shore.  Charlie Ladd looks up at an Indian these days.  But Beldin’, as for the comin’ out, don’t forget the hosses.  Without grand old Sol an’ Diablo, who I don’t hate no more, an’ the other Blancos, we’d never have got here.  Yaqui an’ the hosses, that’s my story!”

Early in the afternoon of the next day Belding encountered Dick at the water barrel.

“Belding, this is river water, and muddy at that,” said Dick.  “Lord knows I’m not kicking.  But I’ve dreamed some of our cool running spring, and I want a drink from it.”

“Never again, son.  The spring’s gone, faded, sunk, dry as dust.”

“Dry!” Gale slowly straightened.  “We’ve had rains.  The river’s full.  The spring ought to be overflowing.  What’s wrong?  Why is it dry?”

“Dick, seeing you’re interested, I may as well tell you that a big charge of nitroglycerin choked my spring.”

“Nitroglycerin?” echoed Gale.  Then he gave a quick start.  “My mind’s been on home, Nell, my family.  But all the same I felt something was wrong here with the ranch, with you, with Nell...Belding, that ditch there is dry.  The roses are dead.  The little green in that grass has come with the rains.  What’s happened?  The ranch’s run down.  Now I look around I see a change.”

“Some change, yes,” replied Belding, bitterly.  “Listen, son.”

Briefly, but not the less forcibly for that, Belding related his story of the operations of the Chases.

Astonishment appeared to be Gale’s first feeling.  “Our water gone, our claims gone, our plans forestalled!  Why, Belding, it’s unbelievable.  Forlorn River with promoters, business, railroad, bank, and what not!”

Suddenly he became fiery and suspicious.  “These Chases—­did they do all this on the level?”

“Barefaced robbery!  Worse than a Greaser holdup,” replied Belding, grimly.