“I thought I must be when I heard about it.  Dad wouldn’t have told me at all, only he thought I ought to know in case anything happens to him.”  Paloma’s breath failed her momentarily.  “They’ll be killed.  I told them so, but Dave seems to enjoy the risk.  He said Ricardo had a sentimental nature—­and, of course, the possibility of danger delighted both him and Dad.  They’re perfect fools.”

“When did they go?  Tell me everything.”

“They left an hour ago in my machine, with two Mexicans to help them.  They intend to cross at your pumping-plant as soon as it gets dark, and be back by mid-night—­that is, if they ever get back.”

“Why, it’s—­unbelievable.”

“It’s too much for me.  Longorio himself is in Romero, and he’d have them shot if he caught them.  We’d never even hear of it.”  Paloma’s face was pale, her eyes were strained and tragic.  “Father always has been a trial to me, but I thought I could do something with Dave.”  She made a hopeless gesture, and Alaire wondered momentarily whether the girl’s anxiety was keenest for the safety of her father or—­the other?

“Can’t we prevent them from going?” she inquired.  “Why, they are breaking the law, aren’t they?”

“Something like that.  But what can we do?  It’s nearly dark, and they’ll go, anyhow, regardless of what we say.”

“Mr. Law is a Ranger, too!”

The girl nodded.  “Oh, if it’s ever discovered he’ll be ruined.  And think of Dad—­a man of property!  Dave declares Tad Lewis is at the bottom of it all and put the Federals up to murder Ricardo; he thinks in this way he can force them into telling the truth.  But Dad is just looking for a fight and wants to be a hero!”

There was a moment of silence.  Then Alaire reasoned aloud:  “I presume they chose our pumping-plant because it is directly opposite the Romero cemetery.  I could have Benito and some trusty men waiting on this side.  Or I could even send them over—­”

“No, no!  Don’t you understand?  The whole thing is illegal.”

“Well, we could be there—­you and I.”

Paloma agreed eagerly.  “Yes!  Maybe we could even help them if they got into trouble.”

“Come, then!  We’ll have supper at Las Palmas and slip down to the river and wait.”

Paloma was gone with a rush.  In a moment she returned, ready for the trip, and with her she carried a Winchester rifle nearly as long as herself.

“I hope you aren’t afraid of firearms,” she panted.  “I’ve owned this gun for years.”

“I am rather a good shot,” Alaire told her.

Paloma closed her lips firmly.  “Good!  Maybe we’ll come in handy, after all.  Anyhow, I’ll bet those Mexicans won’t chase Dad and Dave very far.”

Jose Sanchez was true to his declared purpose.  With a horse of his own between his knees, with money in his pocket and hate in his heart, he left Las Palmas, and, riding to the Lewis crossing, forded the Rio Grande.  By early afternoon he was in Romero, and there, after some effort, he succeeded in finding General Longorio.