GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
His iron grip closed on the bit of her horse, 
 and the animals stopped short 
 
Gift of the Desert 
 
 By RANDALL PARRISH 
 
 Author of 
 
 "Beyond the Frontier," "Bob Hampton of Placer/* "Com- 
 rades of Peril," "The Case and the Girl," "The Devil's 
 Own" "The Mystery of the Silver Dagger" 
 'Wolves of the Sea," etc. 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY 
 
 Publishers New York 
 
 Published by arangement with A. C. McClurg & Co. 
 Printed in U. S. A. 
 
Copyright 
 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO. 
 
 1922 
 
 published August, 19& 
 
 Copyrighted in Great Britain 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
<?6/ 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I The Choice I 
 
 II Meager States His Plan 12 
 
 III The Message from the Bunkhouse 24 
 
 IV The Coming of the Judge 35 
 
 V The Marriage 45 
 
 VI The Blow in the Dark 56 
 
 VII The Man in the Dark 66 
 
 VIII A New Alliance 78 
 
 IX The Road to Silver Springs 88 
 
 X Covering the Trail 99 
 
 XI Mutual Recognition 109 
 
 XII Story of the "Frisco Kid" 120 
 
 XIII A New Viewpoint 131 
 
 XIV The Hand from the Rock 141 
 
 XV Within the Tunnel 151 
 
 XVI The Passage Out 161 
 
 XVII Two of a Kind 171 
 
 XVIII More Complications 181 
 
 XIX Kelleen Becomes Master 191 
 
 XX Talking It Over 201 
 
 XXI Alone on the Desert 211 
 
 XXII The Border Patrol 221 
 
 M545683 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXIII. "Alvara's Lost Mine" 231 
 
 XXIV A Duel in the Dark 241 
 
 XXV The Light Goes Out 250 
 
 XXVI In on a New Game 260 
 
 XXVII Face to Face 270 
 
 XXVIII The Spoils of Crime 279 
 
 XXIX The Finding of Gomez 288 
 
 XXX. The Message of Life 299 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
Gift of the Desert 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE CHOICE 
 
 IT WAS a wonderful thing to be twenty-three, full 
 of hope and ambition, and in the wide out-of-doors; 
 more wonderful still to possess the glorious memory 
 of nearly two years in the hospitals of France, six 
 months of that time just behind the American fighting 
 line. Yet the girl was not thinking of this then as she 
 sat there alone at the edge of the ravine, gazing silently 
 off across the dull leagues of desert to where a distant 
 blue range of mountains cut off the view with their 
 ragged summits. It was a marvelous, somber scene 
 stretched out below, a drear desolation, without move- 
 ment or the slightest semblance of life. An hour ago 
 it had been wrapped in heat waves, a misty miracle, 
 sometimes appearing as a vast sea, but now, as the sun 
 sank slowly behind those distant serrated peaks, darker 
 shadows lay along the level surface, with gleams here 
 and there of gray and red, while arching over all hung 
 the clear Arizona sky, slowly turning to purple. 
 
 (1) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 Nor was she thinking of these magic changes. She 
 had noted them all, appreciative of their beauty, and 
 comparing that sun-kissed vista with other sunsets in 
 France and Germany, when the ground was yet red with 
 the blood of sacrificed manhood. Her heart ached 
 still with the sad memory that would not die — hours 
 of toil, scenes of suffering. But this mood had also 
 passed away, and now, although her eyes were still 
 upon that outspread picture below, her thought had 
 centered upon the present in a dull wonderment at the 
 strange situation surrounding her. Why had she ever 
 consented to come to this place? to this jumping-off spot 
 of creation? Why had she ever listened to the plea of 
 old Tom Meager, back there in Chicago, and finally, 
 partially from pity, partially from that new love of 
 adventure engendered within her by service across the 
 water, agreed to come West with him ? Of course, she 
 never had dreamed what it really would be like — life 
 on this vast isolated ranch along the southern border, 
 with the drear desert stretching away on every side 
 from this little oasis of water and grass. Tom Meager 
 had never told the whole story; he had dwelt on the 
 loneliness of his sick wife, the chance she had of re- 
 gaining health, with proper nursing and care; the rare 
 beauty of the sunsets, the wonderful glow of the cool 
 desert nights, the wild, free existence of the range, filled 
 
 (2) 
 
THE CHOICE 
 
 with excitement and a dash of danger. It all had 
 appealed to her strangely — the service, the complete 
 change in environment, the escape from the humdrum 
 life of the Marine Hospital. The pay was good, the 
 opportunity excellent, and she had said "yes" without 
 half realizing then what it all meant. 
 
 But she realized now. Those first few weeks had 
 been glorious indeed. She found everything new, 
 attractive, tinged with romance and color. She liked 
 Mrs. Meager, and discovered her task to be an easy 
 one, her time largely at her own disposal. So far as 
 labor was concerned, the position was ideal; she was 
 companion rather than nurse. But it was lonely, ter- 
 ribly lonely; and, after those first few weeks nothing 
 seemed to occur to break the dull monotony. It was 
 sixty miles over a half-obliterated desert trail to the 
 nearest town, and that little more than a general store, 
 and a cattle corral. The only link between there and 
 the civilization she had left to the eastward, were the 
 glistening rails of a railroad skirting the edge of the 
 hills, and vanishing amid the sand. Once or twice a day 
 a tiain passed east or west, a wisp of smoke showing 
 on the horizon, only to be quickly blown away by the 
 never-ceasing wind. 
 
 Day by day, week following week, she saw the same 
 faces, heard the same voices. Riders from the outer 
 
 O) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 range came in with their reports, bringing tales of Mex- 
 ican raiders, or of cattle strayed into the desert. Once 
 a party of rangers rode by on the trail of a horse thief, 
 and once again a squad of cavalrymen from some fron- 
 tier fort farther to the north camped overnight behind 
 the stables. By dawn they were gone. Whenever she 
 could she rode about with old Tom Meager, in and out 
 the ravines, and occasionally far beyond into the vast 
 sand plains, listening to his quaint tales of adventures, 
 and helping him round up bunches of strayed stock. 
 She became expert in the saddle, learned to use a gun 
 skilfully, and even picked up some knowledge of the 
 lariat. Thus, little by little, she had adapted herself 
 to the rough life, determined to keep her word, but 
 nevertheless growing constantly more and more heart- 
 sick. 
 
 Then Tom Meager came to his death. Riding home 
 alone from Nogales at night, in the dark of Silver 
 Canyon, his horse slipped and fell, and Meager lay there 
 on the rocks motionless. A packer found his body the 
 next day, and brought it on to the ranch. In some way 
 the message of the old man's passing crossed the border 
 line down far into old Mexico, until it reached the ears 
 of his son, God alone knows where. Three days after 
 the burial this wanderer of many years returned, drove 
 his saddle horse into the corral, and assumed control. 
 
 C4) 
 
THE CHOICE 
 
 Whatever might be his legal right, there was none to 
 oppose his bold assumption of authority, or manage- 
 ment. The widow lay helpless on her bed ; she was not 
 the boy's mother, and he never so much as crossed the 
 threshold of her room. If there had been a will, no 
 one searched for it, or made inquiries. By sheer force 
 and audacity Bob Meager took command, asking per- 
 mission of no one. 
 
 For some days after his arrival the girl did not even 
 encounter this new master. She dared not leave her 
 patient either day or night, and the man was never at 
 the ranchhouse except to fling himself on the bed and 
 sleep. From dawn to dark he was in the saddle, famil- 
 iarizing himself with every detail of his new possessions. 
 She had no desire to meet him, for long ago his story 
 had been told to her — not by old Tom, who never 
 spoke his son's name, or the patient, invalid wife, but 
 by others, long in the Meager service, glad now of an 
 opportunity to gossip with a stranger. It was a story 
 of brutal shame; of base ingratitude, verging on crime; 
 of sudden disappearance; of vague rumors floating back 
 from here and there, bearing the tale of a wild, dis- 
 reputable life. To her Bob Meager had become the 
 synonym of all that was evil in this borderland. Yet 
 now, through some strange play of fate, he was here, 
 and she was left helplessly in his power, under his 
 
 (5) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 orders, wholly dependent on him for employment. 
 [The thought was almost maddening. 
 
 They finally met the morning of the fifth day, unex- 
 pectedly, when, without even knocking, the fellow strode 
 into the widow's room unceremoniously. The girl, in 
 her nurse's uniform, arose hastily to her feet, and con- 
 fronted the rude intruder indignantly, her eyes blazing 
 with sudden antagonism. Meager came to a surprised 
 halt, staring straight at her in astonishment. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he asked gruffly, yet with a measure 
 of doubt in the tone. " Some poor relative? " 
 
 " Not quite as bad as that," she answered, resenting 
 his manner, yet endeavoring to control her speech. " I 
 am Mrs. Meager's nurse." 
 
 "Nurse!" he sneered sarcastically. " Good Lord, 
 so the old man stood for that, did he ? Well, you can 
 hardly expect me to ; it is more than my mother ever 
 had. Do you know who I am?" 
 
 11 1 presume you must be Robert Meager." 
 
 " You guessed right, and IVe come back here to run 
 this ranch; you get me?" 
 
 "Quite clearly — yes." 
 
 She spoke so coldly, with so little apparent Interest, 
 as instantly to anger him. 
 
 " Oh, you do, hey? Then I'll enlighten you further. 
 You're Mrs. Meager's nurse, you said? Pretty soft 
 
 (6) 
 
THE CHOICE 
 
 job, isn't it? I don't believe there will be any neces- 
 sity for her having a nurse very long. What's your 
 name? " 
 
 " Deborah Meredith." 
 
 He laughed, showing a row of cruel white teeth. 
 
 "Sounds like a story book; where did the old man 
 pick you up ? " 
 
 " My home is in Chicago." 
 
 "Well, he certainly showed good taste, I'll say that 
 for him. You are some good-looker, Deborah Mere- 
 dith. I'm damned if I don't rather like your style." 
 
 He stared at her insolently, his glance appraising 
 form and features much as he might take in the points 
 of some animal he contemplated purchasing. The girl's 
 face flushed indignantly, but her eyes never fell. 
 
 " You sure do look good to me," he announced finally, 
 "and I don't believe I'll fire you — not yet, anyhow." 
 
 " It will not be at all necessary," she said quietly. " I 
 shall attend to that for myself." 
 
 "You will? You mean you'll quit?" 
 
 "I certainly shall." 
 
 " Oh, hell ! Spunky little tigress, ain't you ? I reckon 
 I'll have something to say about that." 
 
 "You mean you will compel me to remain whether I 
 wish to, or not?" she asked in surprise. "Why, that 
 cannot be done; I am not a slave." 
 
 (7) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " It can't, hey ? Do you know where you are ? " 
 
 "Certainly, I do." 
 
 " By God, I doubt it. This is the Meager ranch in 
 Arizona. There ain't another outfit within fifty miles, 
 and nothing else round us but desert; there ain't no 
 water, and no grass. I'm a-runnin' things here, and 
 you bet I know how to run them. There ain't no gay 
 galoot coming in here to tell Bob Meager what he shall 
 do, an' what he shan't do. You get me ? I'm the boss ; 
 before another week's out every white man on this 
 ranch will be hunting a job, and there'll be Mex in their 
 places. I know how to handle Mex; they'll do what I 
 say — you bet they will. So Miss Deborah Meredith, 
 how is it you're going to quit before ever I say you can? 
 Aim to hoof it across the alkali to Nogales ? Ten miles 
 o' that stuff would break your heart. You better think 
 it over." 
 
 She stood erect, looking directly at him, fully realizing 
 his power and ruthlessness, yet still unbelieving that 
 this was more than a mere idle threat. She saw him 
 now clearly in the light of the window, and, in spite of 
 her natural courage, the girl's heart sank. Was there 
 any act of brutality the man would be incapable of ? He 
 looked the very incarnation of force, of ungovernable, 
 unrestrained temper. He was big, burly, with broad 
 shoulders and a deep chest, almost a giant of a man, 
 
 (8) 
 
THE CHOICE 
 
 but it was the face which bespoke his character. Brute 
 was written plainly all over it, seemingly imprinted on 
 every feature, finding clearest expression in the bold, 
 staring eyes, and the bullying chin, yet, at the moment, 
 she did not fear him ; instinctively she felt the coward 
 skulking back of his brutishness, confident that in the 
 end he would never dare execute his boast. 
 
 "I prefer," she said quietly, "not to discuss the 
 matter now. Surely this was not why you came in 
 here?" 
 
 "I sure like your nerve, little girl," he admitted 
 admiringly. " No, I didn't come exactly for that, but 
 whatever brought me, I've changed my mind. We'll 
 let things go on just as they are at present, I reckon. 
 But don't you ever imagine I am playing with you ; law 
 don't count for much out here, sister, an' what I say 
 goes." 
 
 She watched him as he turned and went out the door, 
 her hands clinched, a wave of intense hatred surging 
 over her. Yet in another moment she had conquered 
 herself, and moved quietly back to the side of the bed 
 on which her patient lay sobbing. She bent above the 
 distressed woman. 
 
 " He is worse even than I thought," she said, unable 
 to wholly hide her distress. "What caused him to 
 come in here, do you suppose?" 
 
 (9) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 "He came to send me away," answered the other, 
 clasping the girl's hands. " I knew it would not be 
 long; he has disliked me always." 
 
 " Send you away ! Why you were his father's wife. 
 Even if there was no will you must have dower rights 
 in the estate. Surely, that is the law." 
 
 U I — I do not know," wearily. "Tom never ex- 
 plained anything to me, but — but I am afraid of Bob 
 Meager. You don't know him yet, but I do; he will 
 rule or ruin." 
 
 "He is only a big, blustering coward," burst forth 
 Deborah indignantly, " bullying two women. I am not 
 going to let him frighten me." 
 
 "Don't cross him; don't anger him," the other 
 begged piteously. "He is dangerous just the same, 
 and I am afraid of him, for your sake as well as my 
 own." 
 
 " What do you want me to do ? " the girl questioned, 
 influenced by the timidity of the other. " Let that beast 
 have his own way with me ? " 
 
 "No — no, not that. But — but treat him fairly, 
 Miss Meredith. He will not always be as he is today. 
 As he said, you cannot fight or run away. All depends 
 on winning his favor. Then sometime there will be a 
 chance. We must wait and watch, until he is in a mood 
 to let us both go. But even if there was a way for you 
 
 (10) 
 
THE CHOICE 
 
 to escape alone, you could not leave me here in his 
 power." 
 
 "You fear him like that?" 
 
 "If I stand between the man and this fortune his 
 father left, my life is worth nothing — I know that." 
 
 And Deborah Meredith, looking down into the white 
 face lying on the pillow, made her choice. 
 
 < % \ i 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 MEAGER STATES HIS PLAN 
 
 IT WAS the memory of this scene — her promise to 
 Mrs. Meager, and her dislike of Bob Meager — 
 which left the girl unobservant of the desert view out- 
 spread below, and thoughtless of the descending night. 
 She had sought this spot to be alone, to escape any 
 possibility of encountering Bob, and to turn over once 
 more in her mind the conditions which had made her 
 virtually a prisoner. That dreary expanse of desert 
 had brought home afresh her helplessness, the brutal 
 truth of his words. It was three days since the inter- 
 view, but she had not again met the man during that 
 interval. Whether he was deliberately avoiding her, 
 or merely busied about the endless work of the ranch, 
 she was unable to determine, yet the very indifference 
 thus shown had its effect on her imagination. Appar- 
 ently he was so absolutely sure of her safety he felt no 
 necessity for even a guard over her movements, or any 
 call to repeat his threat. She had been left free to 
 come and go at her will, while he ignored her very 
 existence. 
 
 Yet she could not accept this seeming indifference as 
 
 (i2) 
 
MEAGER STATES HIS PLAN 
 
 real. There had been an expression in the man's eyes 
 that had frightened her more than she would even con- 
 fess to herself — an insolent boldness, a sneering domi- 
 nance which haunted her memory with its sinister threat. 
 He was playing with her as a cat plays with a mouse, 
 biding the proper time to strike. He knew he could 
 afford to wait; that she was utterly in his power. His 
 very silence, and aloofness, increased her alarm, her 
 dread of the morrow. Her dislike of the fellow had 
 grown into a bitter hatred, while every change about the 
 ranch seemed to draw the chains of captivity closer 
 around her. His insolent neglect left the impression 
 that it also was a part of the game. 
 
 Not a day passed without witnessing a change in the 
 personnel of the ranch. She might not have observed 
 this, but for her own personal fear and suspicion. Old 
 Tom Meager would never employ a Mexican on the 
 place, nor trust them; but now, one by one, the old 
 hands disappeared, while swarthy-skinned riders ap- 
 peared mysteriously to take their places. Where they 
 came from, how the word had been sent abroad, she 
 could not surmise, yet every day she missed familiar 
 faces, and discovered new ones about the bunkhouse. 
 Even the old-time cook vanished finally, to be replaced 
 by a Chinaman, while a Mexican girl appeared sud- 
 denly to assume charge of the ranchhouse. Within six 
 
 (13) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 days the transformation was practically complete, and 
 Bob Meager was surrounded by those of his own kind. 
 Creatures of his will, denizens of that world he knew 
 best. This change was, to Deborah's mind, ominous 
 of evil ; it increased her fear, and rendered more difficult 
 any possibility of escape. The walls closed her more 
 tightly in. As she saw the strange faces and fanciful 
 costumes of these new arrivals, and heard their native 
 language spoken, she realized more and more vividly 
 her own increasing helplessness, and shrank from con- 
 fronting the future. What was the true meaning of all 
 this? What did this man plan to do with her? The 
 questions could not be answered; she could only wait 
 fearfully for his actions to make reply. Yet it must 
 be evil; she could conceive nothing else in Bob Meager's 
 heart 
 
 Again and again the puzzled, troubled girl went over 
 in memory every word the man had uttered, every act 
 of his since he came. Her thought was not with the 
 wild desert scene outstretched before her, or the beauty 
 of that red sunset behind those far-off peaks. She was 
 not even conscious of her more immediate surround- 
 ings, remaining totally oblivious to the solitary horse- 
 man, approaching along the barely discernible trail 
 skirting the edge of the mesa. The horse was moving 
 slowly, with wearily drooping head, and on the hard- 
 
 (14) 
 
MEAGER STATES HIS PLAN 
 
 beaten sand the hoofs made no noise sufficient to disturb 
 her. The rider lolled in the deep Mexican saddle, with 
 sombrero pulled down low over his eyes, seemingly as 
 tired as the half-broken mustang he bestrode, and occa- 
 sionally hectored with a sharp spur. The two climbed 
 the steeper ascent leading up the side of the mesa, 
 winding about among the mesquite, and finally emerging 
 amid the chaparral above. It was on the farther edge 
 of this that the horseman suddenly perceived the girl, 
 her white skirt showing conspicuous in the purple light, 
 and quickly held up his pony. A glow came into his tired 
 eyes as he made sure of her identity, and he leaned for- 
 ward over the pommel watching her resting there mo- 
 tionless. She had evidently neither seen nor heard his 
 approach, and he swung silently down from the saddle, 
 dropping the mustang's rein over the animal's head, 
 before advancing toward her on foot. It was not until 
 he had reached a very few yards of her position that 
 Deborah became aware of some presence near, and 
 arose instantly to her feet, facing him in sudden alarm. 
 It was too late then to flee; the man blocked the only 
 path available. 
 
 "Frightened you, did I?" he asked carelessly, flip- 
 ping a weed with his quirt, but with searching eyes on 
 her face. "You must have been in some daydream, 
 I'll say." 
 
 (15) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 She caught her breath sharply in an effort at self- 
 control. 
 
 "I — I was thinking," she answered, a little catch 
 in the voice, but as instantly determining to tell the 
 truth, and thus learn, if possible, his purpose, " of what 
 you intended to do with me. I — I cannot continue to 
 bear things as they are." 
 
 "Why, they are not so bad, are they?" he asked 
 provokingly, but making no effort to advance. " This 
 is the same ranch to which you came voluntarily; I have 
 not cut down your wages, and the food, and all that, is 
 just as good. Do you mean you don't like it here any 
 longer?" 
 
 " I certainly do not under the circumstances. I am 
 no longer here of my own free will." 
 
 "Oh, is that it? Well, perhaps we can remedy that 
 trouble. In fact, that is the very matter I rather wanted 
 to talk to you about. It is mighty lucky I found you out 
 here all alone, where maybe we can come to an under- 
 standing. Sit down there again while we talk it over." 
 
 "I prefer to stand." 
 
 "All right then, only it ain't going to do you no good 
 to be offish about it. I'll tell you that at the start. You 
 ought to know by this time that I ain't the playing sort. 
 Found any way to leave yet? I reckon not, or you 
 wouldn't be here. Well, that lesson ought to mean 
 
 (16) 
 
MEAGER STATES HIS PLAN 
 
 something to you. I've left you alone for three days 
 now, just to let it sink in." 
 
 " That I could not escape from here without assist- 
 ance?" 
 
 "Sure; there ain't no way for a woman — a tender- 
 foot — to get across that desert without help of some 
 kind, and a horse. I reckon you are smart enough to 
 know that. It was mostly on your account I sent them 
 old punchers away, an' got a lot o' Mex in to ride herd, 
 an' do whatever odd jobs were needed. You ain't liable 
 to pick up no friendships with that gang. Knew some 
 of the old hands, didn't you?" 
 
 "A few," she admitted. a I rode about considerably 
 at first." 
 
 "So I heard tell. Now there ain't nobody round 
 who cares a whoop in hell what happens. You better 
 let that fact soak in, too, first of all. Then it will be 
 easier for us to come to an understanding." 
 
 "An understanding?" she asked in surprise. "You 
 desire to explain then? Yet first you threaten me?" 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "Threaten, hell! I don't have to threaten; I'm 
 holding all the cards." He took a step forward, and, 
 as the girl drew slightly back from his approach, his 
 face quickly darkened with anger. "You don't want 
 me to touch you, hey? or come near you? All right, 
 
 (17) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 I'll wait, but just the same you'll do just what I tell you 
 to. Sit down there on that log. I've got quite a bit to 
 say to you yet an' I don't want you standing up there, 
 staring at me. You hear me ? Sit down ! " 
 
 She took the place designated, realizing the utter 
 uselessness of refusal, while he remained standing, with 
 one foot insolently planted on the log beside her. 
 Through the gathering dusk she could see his face and 
 its expression was far from reassuring. He was bru- 
 tally sure of his power. 
 
 "Very well," she said, forcing a strange calmness 
 into her voice, " I will listen to what you have to say." 
 
 " Listen ! I rather guess you will. I like your damn 
 nerve, but you'll find out I've got some myself. Now, 
 see here, Miss Deborah Meredith. A week ago I didn't 
 even know you existed. But after we had that little 
 seance together the other day in the old lady's room, I 
 made up my mind that I was going to give you a lesson, 
 You didn't like me, did you?" 
 
 He stopped, but she did not answer, although her 
 eyes met his own. 
 
 " Come on ! talk up. I know you didn't; but I want 
 to hear you say so." 
 
 " It certainly is true." 
 
 " Sure it's true. Why in hell shouldn't it be? The 
 
 old man had filled you full " 
 
 (18) 
 
MEAGER STATES HIS PLAN 
 
 " Your father never once spoke of you to me." 
 
 "Then my precious stepmother did." 
 
 " Only in reply to some questions, but nevertheless, 
 I knew. I am not going to deny that I was prejudiced 
 against you, and your conduct and words the other day 
 were not likely to change my opinion. If it is necessary 
 for me to answer, I will — I do not like you, Bob 
 Meager." 
 
 The man grinned almost cheerfully. 
 
 "Some fellows might get mad at that, but I don't. 
 I rather enjoy it. Why? Because I've got you where 
 it don't make any damn difference. That's why. As 
 long as I want you, I'm going to have you. I knew 
 exactly how you felt, and maybe that was what made 
 me swear I'd have you anyhow. I don't care what you 
 think o' me. Likely I'm even worse than that; but 
 from the first minute I seen you in that white uniform, 
 I made up my mind you was the girl I wanted; and I 
 made up my mind, too, that it wasn't any use of my 
 trying to make love to you — not a damn bit. You'd 
 just laugh at that. So I went to work and figured out 
 another way." 
 
 "To get me?" in growing horror. "To get me? 
 for what?" 
 
 " Oh, it's all going to be honorable, so don't let that 
 worry you now. This is going to be a square deal, only 
 
 (19) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 I handle the cards — see? The first thing I had to da 
 was to build a hog-tight fence around this ranch, so you 
 couldn't get out. Nature helped some, for with forty 
 miles of desert one way, and sixty the other, there 
 wasn't much chance left. But I thought maybe you had 
 made friends with some of those cowboys, and the safest 
 way was to clean them all out, and get Mexican herders 
 instead. They'd do whatever I said, and kick up no 
 fracas. Well, there was plenty of that kind to be had, 
 and now there ain't another white man left on the 
 place. You know that, don't you? " 
 
 "Yes," slowly, "I know that." 
 
 "It's worth thinking over; it means I'm the boss; 
 that what I say here goes. I ain't been bothering you 
 any meanwhile. I hain't spoken to you since that first 
 time. There wasn't no use. I saw in your eye what 
 sort o' girl you was, and just about what you thought o' 
 me. But I'd made up my mind what I was after, and 
 how I was going to get it. I didn't have any notion of 
 coming to you again until I had the cards stacked — 
 see?" 
 
 "And — and now you — you are ready to play, and 
 have come?" 
 
 " Correct. I can't lose. You got to do what I say, 
 whether you like it or not. Maybe you don't just get 
 this straight? Well, listen. In the first place I am 
 
 (20) 
 
MEAGER STATES HIS PLAN 
 
 Bob Meager, and, I reckon, you never heard nothin' 
 very soft about me. It's pretty generally known around 
 here that I am a he-man, and that I usually get what I 
 go after. You know that, don't you ? " 
 
 "I — I have heard of your methods — yes." 
 
 11 1 thought most likely you had. Well, that's one 
 point. I ain't the kind to play soft with ; when I get my 
 hair up I'm a bear-cat. The second point is, I'm the 
 real boss of this ranch ; it's mine, and I've got the papers 
 to prove it. Now, do you get the picture? " 
 
 It was almost dark, but she could still distinguish his 
 face, as he leaned forward peering at her. There was 
 no doubt as to the real meaning of the man, and she 
 comprehended fully her own helplessness of resistance. 
 All she could hope to do now was to cause delay, to 
 thus win a chance to think and act. Her breath seemed 
 to choke her, and almost prevent speech, and yet her 
 mind desperately grasped at this one opportunity. 
 
 "Yes," she managed to say, marveling at the calm- 
 ness with which she spoke, and now on her feet facing 
 him. " I think I know what you mean. You have me 
 completely in your power ; you have planned it all out, 
 and now there isn't a friend here whom I can call on 
 for help, while no way of escape has been left open. 
 That is what you want me to realize, I suppose that I 
 know your full power." 
 
 (21) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 "That's the ticket. Now there ain't no use your 
 getting mad. I like you ; I like you awfully well, and 
 I'm going to be mighty square with you. But there 
 wasn't any other way for me to get you — was there ?" 
 
 " No," she said frankly, " there was no other course 
 possible." 
 
 " Which means you don't like me at all ? " 
 
 14 It means all of that, and more, Bob Meager. I do 
 not believe I ever despised anyone so much in my life 
 as I do you. I disliked you before I ever saw you ; now 
 I hate the very ground you walk on. Have you any use 
 for me after that?" 
 
 "You just bet I have," he grinned. "You're sure a 
 wildcat, but I'll tame you. Damn it! I like it in you; 
 you're not the wishy-washy kind. One of us has got to 
 be boss ; I saw that from the very first, and that's what 
 this means now; I'm going to be the one." 
 
 " In what way do you mean? " 
 
 " Haven't you got the idea yet? I'm going to marry 
 you — see? I took the notion the first time I saw you 
 — you're exactly my style. But I know'd then there 
 wasn't but one way to do it. Now I'm ready to talk 
 business. How is it, my lady, going to be nice about it? " 
 
 She endeavored to rally her courage, even attempting 
 a laugh. 
 
 " Marry you? Not in this world. I know you are 
 (22) 
 
MEAGER STATES HIS PLAN 
 
 a scoundrel, but I never thought you were a fool 
 before;' 
 
 " No, and you never will again/' his voice hardening. 
 " Because you will have no chance. It is nothing to me 
 whether you say yes, or no. I been down in Nogales 
 today, an' among other things I got a marriage license. 
 It's right here in my pocket, an' the names written in it 
 are ' Robert Meager and Deborah Meredith.' And 
 that ain't all ; sometime between now and ten o'clock a 
 justice of the peace is going to drive in here to do up 
 the business for us. That's why I'm telling you all this 
 — so you can sorter brace up, and get ready." 
 
 She made no attempt to move, or to speak; she 
 seemed paralyzed, staring at him through the gathering 
 darkness. 
 
 " I ain't going to touch you now," he went on sullenly, 
 angered by her silence. " But you just think it over, 
 and go on back to the house. When I send for you, you 
 better come ; that's all." 
 
 He turned, and walked back to his horse, and she 
 stood there, trembling in every limb, as he vanished 
 amid the shadows. 
 
 (23) 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE MESSAGE FROM THE BTJNKHOUSE 
 
 DEBORAH sank back upon the log, her eyes fol- 
 lowing the dim outline of the man's burly figure 
 until it disappeared along the trail leading toward the 
 ranchhouse. He did not mount the horse, but plunged 
 forward on foot, the animal trailing behind. The sound 
 of movement died away, and about her was impressive 
 stillness. She could hear the rapid beating of her own 
 heart, the grating as her fingers convulsively dug into 
 the soft bark of the log. She understood now, clearly, 
 definitely, just what she was called upon to face. Bob 
 Meager had not minced his words, or left anything to 
 imagination. He had been brutally frank, revealing 
 his real nature in all he had said and done. She had 
 no illusions; he had planned this deliberately, in cold 
 blood, and he had the will, and, perhaps, the power, to 
 carry it out. 
 
 At first she was in a white flame of indignation; she 
 even laughed hysterically at the fellow's threat. It 
 seemed preposterous, absurd, a dream of delirium. 
 Marry him ! Marry that degenerate brute ! Why, she 
 would rather die a hundred deaths than have him even 
 
 (24) 
 
THE MESSAGE FROM THE BUNKHOUSE 
 
 touch her. She hated, despised him, and there flashed 
 to her mind one memory after another of what had 
 been told her of his past — cowardly, cruel deeds, 
 spoken of in whispers; a shooting affray in Nogales; a 
 woman deserted and left to die ; an arrest for robbery 
 somewhere in New Mexico; a duel over a gambling 
 table; a rumor of gun-running across the Mexican 
 border — these were but part of what she had heard 
 before they ever met. Now she read the truth pic- 
 tured in the man's face and manner, and shrank from 
 him in horror. He was a foul, brutal cur ! Yet even 
 as she realized this, shrinking in terror from any pos- 
 sible contact with him, there arose in her mind a sense 
 of fear, a grim, persistent fear she could not conquer. 
 He was ruthless, merciless. If he truly desired her, 
 nothing would be permitted to stand in his way; he 
 would hesitate at no crime in the gratification of aroused 
 passion. He had not been drinking when he talked 
 with her; he had spoken soberly and with full knowl- 
 edge of what he said. Fiendish as it was, he had acted 
 deliberately and in cold blood. That made it all the 
 more dangerous, for he would likely drink now and 
 become an utter fiend. Within an hour he would be 
 raging drunk, capable of any indignity, any wild act. 
 A brute sober, he became a demon drunk. And she 
 must face it — alone! This was the conviction that 
 
 (25) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 slowly took full possession of her mind. At first she 
 failed wholly to realize the situation. It seemed to be 
 too outrageous to be possible, but gradually the bitter 
 truth came home, leaving her stupefied and helpless. 
 This was no dream, but a fact. His threat was not an 
 idle one. He could turn contemptuously away and 
 leave her there, completely confident that she could 
 not escape. She was in his toils as utterly as though 
 he had her locked in a room, or trussed her about with 
 a rope's end. There was no spot of safety to which 
 she could fly, no friend to whom she could appeal. Her 
 apparent freedom was a mere mirage ; she was a pris- 
 oner in a cell — her cell this isolated ranch, surrounded 
 by leagues of impassable desert. 
 
 She gazed hopelessly out into the black void; not a 
 light gleamed anywhere except from those distant stars 
 overhead. How terribly desolate it all was, long miles 
 of sand and alkali, with nothing to break the drear 
 monotony except stunted greasewood and cactus, among 
 which wound the barely discernible trail. No glimmer 
 of water, no shimmer of green, no animal or bird life 
 amid the solitude. She remembered it all with a shud- 
 der, a deadening sense of facing the impossible. There 
 was but one way leading across that expanse, the single 
 trail connecting with the pass through the mountain 
 canyon beyond. There might, of course, be others — 
 
 (26) 
 
THE MESSAGE FROM THE BUNKHOUSE 
 
 known to Indian or outlaw — but this path was the 
 only one she ever had traveled. And it never could be 
 traversed alone on foot. Perhaps if she had time in 
 which to plan, to prepare, it might be done — food, 
 water, a horse, a few hours start in the darkness, might 
 lead to success — but, Meager had given her no oppor- 
 tunity. If she plunged forth into that black, trackless 
 void afoot, it would be to certain death, unless his cow- 
 boys found her in time. The thought promised nothing 
 but suicide, or recapture. She shrank back nerveless 
 from the trial. 
 
 Yet, was there any other hope of escape? of post- 
 ponement even? To appeal to Bob Meager would 
 accomplish nothing. She knew the base heart of the 
 man now if she never had before ; he would only laugh, 
 whether she came to him with reproaches or tears. 
 And there was no one else — not a single white man 
 left on the estate to her knowledge; not an officer of 
 the law nearer than Nogales. The justice of the peace 
 who was coming out to marry them ! Bah ! Whoever 
 he was, he would assuredly be a creature of Meager's 
 own choosing. Some despicable crony willing enough 
 to obey orders for a price. No other kind would be 
 employed under the circumstances. And Mrs. Meager 
 would only break down and cry; under no conditions 
 could she be of the slightest service, her terror of her 
 
 (27) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 stepson was the real cause of her nervous breakdown. 
 The whole deplorable affair must be concealed from 
 her if possible. 
 
 No, there was absolutely no one to rely upon but 
 herself. And what could she do ? The girl stood up 
 in the darkness, her hands gripped, her eyes on the 
 opening through the chaparral leading toward the 
 house — the trail along which Bob Meager had disap- 
 peared. She must follow him ; there was nowhere else 
 for her to go. She must face this thing alone, with all 
 the desperate courage she could muster. Tears would 
 accomplish nothing, nor bitter anger. If the worst 
 came she must act, swiftly, decisively — even to killing 
 the monster. There was no other choice left, no other 
 possibility of escape. This awful necessity came to her 
 almost as a relief. She felt justified, happy at making 
 the final decision. Yes, she would do even that; she 
 would do it rather than submit. It was the lesser evil of 
 the two. But where could she procure a weapon? She 
 possessed none of her own; had never dreamed of 
 owning such a thing, yet they were plentiful enough 
 about the ranch. Surely one could be easily secured, 
 and, once in her possession, she knew how to handle it. 
 Tom Meager had taught her that. 
 
 Impelled by this thought of self-defense, realizing 
 clearly that she could turn nowhere else with any hope 
 
 (28) 
 
THE MESSAGE FROM THE BUNKHOUSE 
 
 of escaping this defilement; that she could neither flee 
 the place nor find assistance, Deborah, the color high 
 in her cheeks, her lips firm pressed in determination, 
 advanced resolutely through the darkness toward the 
 house. She would defend herself at all hazards ; before 
 she would submit to that brute she would shoot to kill. 
 She had become desperate enough to find peace, and 
 courage, in the decision. 
 
 The men of the home ranch were evidently at supper, 
 the big dining-hall being lighted, and, as she slipped 
 past the unshaded windows, she had glimpse of the 
 fellows within and heard their voices conversing loudly 
 in Spanish. They were a motley bunch, scarcely a face 
 down the long table that was not vicious and depraved 
 — the scum of Mexico, the majority exhibiting Indian 
 blood, with not a familiar countenance among them. 
 She lingered an instant in the shadows without, listening, 
 but only shivered at the oaths which reached her ears. 
 They were a precious gang of ruffians, indeed, worthy 
 of their master, and the girl crept away, glad to escape 
 the sound of their voices. There was a single dim 
 light burning in the bunkhouse, but no sign of any occu- 
 pant. Undoubtedly every hand on the place was at 
 supper, and no better opportunity could be found in 
 which to seek for, and appropriate, some forgotten 
 weapon. She advanced cautiously, listening intently for 
 
 (29) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 any sound, eager to accomplish her object. Once armed, 
 she would feel more confident; the very touch of a 
 weapon in her hand would bring her renewed courage. 
 The bunkhouse was a long building of adobe, the 
 bunks lining the walls, open at both ends, the only light 
 a lantern swung from a center beam. The glass of this 
 was blackened with smoke, and only a dim radiance 
 made the interior barely visible. However, there were 
 no occupants; a glance through the open door convinced 
 Deborah the place was temporarily deserted, yet that 
 Mexican gang would soon be trooping out again from 
 the dining-hall, and she would have but a few minutes 
 in which to prosecute her search. Without hesitation, 
 but with heart beating wildly, she slipped silently within, 
 her eager eyes swiftly searching the vacant bunks and 
 the wooden pegs above, on which dangled a miscella- 
 neous collection of garments. In one corner was a pile 
 of saddles and other horse accouterments ; the whole 
 place reeked with the smell of leather and was filthy in 
 the extreme. The girl, nauseated by the foul odor, 
 hesitated to penetrate farther, but a sudden outburst 
 of laughter pealing through the open windows of the 
 dining-hall, drove her desperately forward. Drawing 
 her skirts close, she advanced gingerly, satisfied that if 
 any occupant had left his belt behind it would be found 
 in one of the bunks. 
 
 (30) 
 
THE MESSAGE FROM THE BUNKHOUSE 
 
 She had gone entirely down one side, and moved 
 across to the other before she found what she sought, 
 her heart leaping exultantly as she perceived the gleam 
 of a steel barrel in the dim light. It lay fully exposed 
 on top of a dirty blanket, a wicked-looking .44 in a 
 well-worn holster, with a belt containing a half-dozen 
 cartridges. She grasped these in her hands, conscious, 
 even as she did so, of the sound of voices outside. The 
 men were already returning; scarcely a moment re- 
 mained before some of them would enter the upper 
 door. The moment was sufficient to permit the fright- 
 ened girl to dash out of the lower entrance into the 
 darkness beyond, and crouch there, the prize still 
 securely in her hands, waiting opportunity to steal away 
 toward the protection of the ranchhouse. None of the 
 fellows chose that entrance, but surged in through the 
 other without a care in the world. The majority were 
 using Spanish, very few words of which she could under- 
 stand, but she gathered from what was said that the 
 men anticipated a drunken revel later in the night and 
 were quite delighted with the prospect. 
 
 The two who had entered first, however, stretched 
 themselves out in bunks opposite each other, puffing 
 vigorously on their cigarettes, and conversed in English, 
 evidently proud of the accomplishment. One she rec- 
 ognized as Juan Sanchez, who had accompanied Bob 
 
 (31) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 Meager on his return, and had since been made fore- 
 man, a swarthy, evil-eyed half-breed, with a long mus- 
 tache and a livid scar on one cheek. She had heard he 
 left Mexico in fear of his life, and he treated the men 
 under him as slaves, lashing them with his quirt, and 
 ruling them by fear. The other was an Indian, a mere 
 boy, but with cruel mouth, and face hideous from pock- 
 marks. Sanchez called him Pedro, yet talked to him 
 as he might to a dog. It was the boy who questioned 
 eagerly: 
 
 "Vat he say, senor? the man? I hear eet not all, 
 the fools they make so mucha noise. We have fiesta? " 
 
 Sanchez blew a cloud of smoke into the polluted air, 
 flipping the ash of his cigarette onto the floor. 
 
 " Plenty drink, Pedro," he said indolently, " an* no 
 work tomorrow. The boss he marry." 
 
 " Marry ! the gringo ? How that be again, senor ? " 
 and Pedro sat up, dangling his feet over the edge of 
 the bunk. 
 
 Sanchez laughed grimly. 
 
 "Ah, Pedro, I forgot you were there. It was a great 
 night, was it not ; yet, Santa Anna ! it counts for nothing 
 this side the line. 'Tis no senorita of Mexico this time, 
 but one of his own race, which is different ; now he marry 
 for long while." 
 
 " He marry of his own race — here ? " 
 
 (32) 
 
THE MESSAGE FROM THE BUNKHOUSE 
 
 "Sure; you have seen her; she cares for the old 
 senora." 
 
 "The girl in white ?" 
 
 " 'Tis she; and Madre de Dios, I would it was I who 
 had her, Pedro! Did ever you see such eyes? Sacra! 
 I would ride through hell to make her smile on me." 
 
 " Pah I " indifferently, " she is too pale for my taste." 
 
 " Pale ! with those cheeks and lips ! My blood boils 
 at dream of her kisses. I'd give every maid in Mexico 
 for such as her." 
 
 " 'Tis as your taste runs, senor; but hew came she to 
 love this fiend of an Americano?" 
 
 " Love him ! " Sanchez rocked with laughter. " Hell ! 
 he has but spoke to her the once, to my knowledge. I 
 doubt if she knows yet the happiness in store for her. 
 'Tis what I like about him; he does not ask, he takes. 
 Sacra! he got the other so ; she hated him, yet it made 
 no difference. 'Twill be so now; the girl may not love 
 him, but she will marry him when he say the word. 
 Why? because she cannot help. It is an old game Senor 
 Bob plays; he is the devil's own, Pedro." 
 
 The Indian crossed himself piously. 
 
 "Dios, 'tis true," he admitted; "have I not felt the 
 smart of his whip ? But he has the gold, senor, so what 
 is it to us what he does with the girl? " 
 
 "You are right, Pedro," the other admitted grum- 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 blingly, "yet 'tis precious little of that gold we see or 
 handle. Let's stop this chatter and win a bit of sleep 
 before the bout begins." 
 
 Sanchez lay back upon the blankets, while the Indian 
 stretched himself, his glance wandering over the bunch 
 of Mexicans clustered at the other end of the hut. Evi- 
 dently he saw nothing of interest there, for he also 
 turned over and rested quietly with face to the wall. 
 Deborah, scarcely venturing to breathe, her heart flut- 
 tering with terror, but her hands clasping tightly the 
 heavy revolver, stole silently away through the 
 darkness. 
 
 (34) 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE COMING OF THE JUDGE 
 
 ASSURED that the way was clear, Deborah made 
 . a quick passage across the open space, a dim, 
 ghostly figure fleeing through the night, and succeeded 
 in obtaining entrance at the side door without being 
 observed. Meager was in one of the front rooms, for, 
 as she paused breathless in the hall, she heard him 
 swear at the cook in Spanish, and the sound of his hated 
 voice hurried her movements. Anything was preferable 
 to a chance meeting with him. 
 
 First of all she must safely conceal the weapon she 
 had stolen, which was too large and cumbersome to be 
 carried upon her person. Its disappearance from the 
 bunkhouse was sure to be discovered, and, while she 
 would be the last one suspected of such a prank, it never- 
 theless must be securely hidden away. Her own room 
 at the end of the hall, small, but neatly furnished, gave 
 the greatest promise of security, and she felt a decided 
 sense of relief when she finally thrust the weapon under 
 various articles at the bottom of a bureau drawer. It 
 was there, ready at hand, if an emergency arose, while 
 she felt fully prepared to make use of it. The conver- 
 
 (35) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 sation just overheard had strengthened her resolve to 
 defend herself at all hazards. 
 
 Certain that nothing further would occur until after 
 the arrival of the expected guests from Nogales, she 
 stole into the room occupied by her patient, relieved to 
 find Mrs. Meager sleeping soundly. She had dreaded 
 the necessity of explaining to the woman the situation, 
 and very willingly permitted her to sleep, covering her 
 quietly, and then stealing silently back to the solitude 
 of her own room to think. Locking the door, she sat 
 down wearily at the window, which was slightly open, 
 peering anxiously out into the night, the cool evening air 
 of the desert caressing her hot cheeks. All appeared so 
 calm and quiet without, it seemed impossible that a 
 crisis was impending — that the lust, passion, brutality 
 of man was only waiting the hour of outbreak. Her 
 mind could scarcely comprehend the truth, or adjust 
 itself to the reality of danger. With cheek resting on 
 her arm, the girl's thoughts wandered, unable to center 
 themselves wholly upon the problem she confronted. 
 It seemed unreal, a dim, nebulous dream of imagina- 
 tion which must vanish with the dawn of another day. 
 
 Another day? What would it bring to her? Mar- 
 ried to Bob Meager? death? or would she be a fugitive, 
 with the stain of murder on her soul? She shuddered, 
 the blood seeming to stop circulating in her veins, as 
 
 (36) 
 
THE COMING OF THE JUDGE 
 
 these questions brought home so nakedly the situation. 
 It must be one of the three; there was no alternative. 
 If she had retained any glimmer of doubt before as to 
 the man's purpose toward her, it had vanished utterly 
 as she listened to the conversation of those two accom- 
 plices in the bunkhouse. They had discussed her as 
 coolly as they would the disposal of a steer from the 
 range. They evidently thought as little about it. And 
 Bob Meager had exhibited an equally brutal disregard. 
 He had openly boasted of his purpose to those fellows, 
 scattered money among them, no doubt, and promised 
 them liquor in honor of the coming event. It was 
 hideous. She was the butt of ridicule among that low 
 gang; the object of laughter and coarse jokes; held as 
 a mere chattel to be played with and then cast aside. 
 God! it was enough to craze her. And, worst of all, 
 the fellow was fully capable of this infamy. He was 
 but repeating an old offense. Somewhere, down below 
 those mountains that marked the boundary line, a girl 
 of another race had met this same fate now confronting 
 her, and was paying the price. 
 
 Well, she would never pay it, or if she must, then she 
 would choose herself what that price should be. She 
 felt at that moment that she could kill the brute as she 
 would a mad dog. It was a duty, a privilege. He had 
 no right to live, to prey on women, to insult and defame 
 
 (37) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 her own womanhood. And there were no other means 
 of escape. Again and again her mind swept about the 
 unbroken circle; the chain binding her was complete; 
 she could turn nowhere for help ; she was absolutely a 
 prisoner. The revolver hidden away in that bureau 
 drawer alone promised protection. There were tears 
 in her eyes, but not tears of weakness or of pity; her 
 lips were firmly set, and her hands clasping the window 
 sill were steady with determination. She had made up 
 her mind. 
 
 The great stars overhead rendered the outside night 
 dimly visible. She could see the bunkhouse, and the 
 darker figures of men passing between her and the lan- 
 tern glow within. Occasionally a loud voice reached 
 her ears, or a peal of ribald laughter. At the hateful 
 sound she clenched her teeth almost savagely, believing 
 they were making mock of her misery. The rising 
 desert wind rustled through the trees and rattled the 
 window above, and afar off toward the stables a dog 
 barked incessantly. Except for these sounds all was 
 still, desolate. About her was primitive solitude; she 
 felt the isolation as never before, picturing ! to her 
 mind those leagues of barren sand in every direction, 
 lying silent and black, hemmed in with barriers of rock, 
 deserted and dead under those dim stars. She was 
 alone — alone ! Beyond law, justice, mercy even, with- 
 
 (38) 
 
THE COMING OF THE JUDGE 
 
 out a friend, a hope ; a mere atom left to perish at the 
 will of a brute. Even God had deserted her. 
 
 Her wrist watch had stopped, and she possessed no 
 knowledge of the time, yet surely it must be late. The 
 respite now would be short; those who were coming to 
 carry out this mockery could not be delayed much 
 longer. She even hoped now they would come; any- 
 thing was better than this uncertainty, this horror of 
 waiting. She began to long for the end, the call to 
 face the inevitable. Far preferable now to act, rather 
 than to continue to endure this awful strain of helpless 
 anticipation. She was ready, desperate; she had 
 counted the cost and chosen her course. If the call 
 would only come while she retained her courage. 
 
 She wondered where Bob Meager was, and what he 
 was doing. There was no movement about the house, 
 except that of the cook in the detached kitchen. A light 
 burned there and she had glimpses of him occasionally, 
 bustling about. The fellow's regular work would have 
 been completed long ago ; no doubt he was busily pre- 
 paring some sort of feast with which to celebrate the 
 wedding. The wedding ! Her wedding ! There was 
 the harsh mockery of laughter in her voice as she re- 
 peated over aloud the ironic words. Her wedding! 
 Girl-like she had wondered often what it would be like. 
 And now it was here ; she was actually waiting the hfcur, 
 
 (39) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 the moment. And the husband; the man whom Fate, 
 or the devil, had brought to her ? He was waiting, too, 
 no doubt, alone in the front room yonder, drinking 
 himself into a reckless courage, becoming a greater 
 demon with every moment of delay. It was too much, 
 too much. The very heart seemed to go out of her, 
 and she buried her face in her arms on the sill, her 
 body shaking with the sobs which could be no longer 
 restrained. 
 
 She was lying there still, the starlight on her ruffled 
 hair and one upturned cheek, but her mood had 
 changed to that of wild, passionate despair. .Tears no 
 longer dimmed her eyes that were staring out blankly 
 into the night. Suddenly her ears caught the distant 
 sound of horses' hoofs through the silence, and she sat 
 up, gasping for breath, once more clutched by fear. 
 Yes, they were actually coming, the end was already at 
 hand; he had not lied to her, not merely threatened — 
 he was really brute enough to carry out the mad scheme. 
 She was upon her feet, standing, motionless and rigid, 
 back beyond view, when the little party rode up to the 
 main door of the ranchhouse, which opened at their 
 approach, a startling beam of light flashing from within. 
 She leaned forward, every nerve tense from excitement, 
 to gain glimpse of the newcomers. 
 
 There were but three in the company, all men, and 
 
 (40) 
 
THE COMING OF THE JUDGE 
 
 they had ridden far. She could tell this even in that 
 dim reflection, for their clothing was whitened with the 
 dust of the desert, and their horses advanced wearily 
 with drooping heads. Yet she could discern little more. 
 Two of the faces she could not distinguish at all, one a 
 rather trim figure, sitting his saddle like a cavalryman; 
 the other a humping, decidedly ungainly fellow, topped 
 with a broad Mexican sombrero which completely 
 shaded his features. These two remained mounted, but 
 the third man swung instantly down from the saddle, 
 noisily greeting Meager as he stepped into the open 
 doorway. He was a heavily built American, with 
 coarse, bloated face, and wore a scraggly beard. When 
 he spoke he croaked like a frog. 
 
 " Hullo, Bob ! " he called out, waddling forward. 
 "Well, I got here all right.' , 
 
 "So I see," with no special cordiality in the voice, 
 which was hoarse from drink. "And you didn't come 
 alone, Garrity; who the hell is with you?" 
 
 "Alone ! " he sputtered out a laugh. " Did you think 
 I'd ride across that damned desert at night alone ? Not 
 for all the money you got, Bob Meager. Arvan came 
 along with me, an' out here at Silver Springs we run 
 into another old pard o' yours, an' persuaded him to 
 ride on along with us. Ain't that all right? " 
 
 " It depends ! Damn you, Garrity, I told you this 
 
 (41) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 was to be a private affair, didn't I ? Who is the fellow? " 
 
 The judge chuckled, evidently amused at the drunken 
 outburst. 
 
 " Got to be a modest violet, Bob ? " he asked. " Say, 
 when I git married the whole blame county is goin' to see 
 it done. However, every guy to his taste, an' besides 
 1 ain't seen the woman yet. What was it you asked me ? " 
 
 "Who was it you brought along from Silver 
 Springs?" 
 
 " Frisco — don't that beat hell ? " 
 
 " Frisco ! Why, by God, I never supposed he dared 
 show up this side the line." He stepped out eagerly, 
 reeling a little from the liquor he carried, yet head- 
 ing straight toward the taller figure in the dim light. 
 The latter swung down from the saddle and met 
 him, Meager, garrulous with drink, greeting him effu- 
 sively. 
 
 " Say, I'm glad to see you, Kid," he burst forth, "but 
 how the hell do you dare come here? There is a lot o' 
 guys who'd kill their own mother fer the reward Ari- 
 zona's got on you. Tryin' to commit suicide ? " 
 
 " No, not as desperate as that, Bob," answered the 
 other, his voice rather low and musical. u I knew what 
 I was doing all right, and these fellows didn't catch me 
 asleep out at Silver Springs. I knew who they were 
 before I joined up with them. Fact is, Bob, I was 
 
 (42) 
 
THE COMING OF THE JUDGE 
 
 headed this way and willin' to have company of the 
 right sort." 
 
 "Headed this way? Huntin'me, you mean? What's 
 up?" 
 
 " Nothing to worry about tonight. What I came for 
 will wait. Safe for me here, isn't it? " 
 
 "Sure," and Meager burst into a drunken laugh. 
 " IVe cleaned out the old outfit complete. There ain't 
 a damn Yankee here any more; all Mexicans I picked 
 myself. Come on in, all of you, an' let's have a drink. 
 Hey there, Sanchez," and his voice roared out the order 
 to the bunkhouse. " Take care of these horses." 
 
 One by one the dark shadows of the men disappeared 
 within, Meager bringing up the rear and closing the 
 door behind him. Deborah, her heart beating wildly, 
 sank down upon a chair, with face buried in her hands. 
 They had come, and there was no hope in them. The 
 judge, the half-breed, were mere puppets, dancing to 
 the voice of their master; the very tone in which he 
 greeted them spoke his contempt of the fellows. Any 
 appeal for mercy to such as they would be but wasted 
 breath. And the third man ! The girl had somehow, 
 at first view, hope of him. His trim appearance in the 
 dim light, the pleasant, firm sound of his voice, her 
 knowledge that he was not part of the original con- 
 spiracy, had given her a sudden thrill of expectation. 
 
 (43) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 But this existed no longer since she heard his name. 
 The " Frisco Kid;" the very sound of it served to chill 
 her blood. Outlaw, desperado, spoken of in whispers 
 along the border; tales of him had reached her ears 
 ever since her first arrival. The troop of cavalry that 
 had made camp at the ranch had been on his trail, and 
 the officer in command had repeated to her the fellow's 
 wild exploits until they mingled with her dreams. The 
 " Frisco Kid;" and he was here again, suddenly appear- 
 ing out of the desert, a friend of Bob Meager's, either 
 hiding from pursuit or planning some fresh deviltry. 
 There was no hope for her in his presence. 
 
 Someone rapped gently on the door, and she sprang 
 to her feet and stood motionless, staring through the 
 darkness. The rapping came again. 
 
 C44) 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE MARRIAGE 
 
 DEBORAH stepped forward silently, her lips 
 pressed tight, opened the bureau drawer, straight- 
 ening up once more with the heavy .44 gripped in her 
 hand. The time had come, and she suddenly felt calm 
 and cold. 
 
 "Who is there?" 
 
 11 It's just me, Miss Meredith," answered a woman's 
 voice weakly. " I've got one of my spells again. I — I 
 need you bad. I just thought I couldn't drag myself 
 this far; only I had to." 
 
 The reaction left the startled girl trembling, but she 
 had no doubt as to the urgency of the call. Thrusting 
 the revolver hastily back into its hiding place, unwilling 
 that Mrs. Meager should even see it, she swiftly un- 
 locked the door and stepped forth into the dimly lit 
 hall. Her eyes caught one glimpse of her patient's 
 face, ghastly white, but with terror rather than pain, and 
 as quickly realized that she had walked into a set trap. 
 Before she could even spring backward, a burly form 
 crowded past her into the opening, completely blocking 
 it, while directly fronting her, grinning maliciously, 
 
 (45) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 stood Juan Sanchez. She knew, without seeing, who 
 was behind her — Bob Meager, chuckling in drunken 
 satisfaction. It was the shrinking, frightened woman 
 against the opposite wall who spoke first. 
 
 "I — I didn't want to do it," she screamed hysteri- 
 cally. "He — he made me; he — he said he'd kill me 
 if I didn't. My God ! what do these men want of you ? " 
 
 " Shut up ! " roared Meager angrily. " Run the old 
 fool back into her room, Juan, and shut the door on her. 
 Go on; I'll take care of the girl. Rather fooled you 
 that time, I reckon, young lady." 
 
 She looked him coldly, contemptuously in the face, 
 conscious of the struggle to remove the older woman. 
 
 " Don't try to remain, Mrs. Meager," she said 
 quietly. " Go back to your room. I can take care of 
 myself." 
 
 "But — but dearie, what is it they want to do with 
 you?" 
 
 Deborah laughed bitterly, so desperate by then as to 
 be reckless. 
 
 " Marry me to this drunken brute," she explained, 
 " this delightful stepson of yours. Pleasant prospect, 
 isn't it? It may be accomplished with the gang he's 
 got ; but I'll make him pay. There is nothing you can 
 do to help me; so go on back to your room — please 
 go I 
 
 (46) 
 
THE MARRIAGE 
 
 Sanchez, grinning still, as though he enjoyed the 
 task, forced the helpless woman down the hall. She 
 yielded weakly, apparently so overcome by events as 
 to be devoid of strength for resistance. The man 
 shoved her roughly into the room, closed and locked 
 the door. Deborah heard her fall on the floor within, 
 but her eyes were upon the threatening face of Bob 
 Meager. 
 
 "Well?" she said sharply, "you seem to have won 
 the first round?" 
 
 "You bet I have. There wasn't no need breaking 
 in, while there was an easier way. So you ain't going 
 to make no row?" 
 
 " I have not said what I mean to do." 
 
 "An' I don't give a damn," roughly. " Only I'd like 
 to know whether you're going along by yourself, or 
 whether we got to drag you ? It's one or the other of 
 them two things." 
 
 "Along where?" 
 
 "To the living-room, of course. That's where I 
 aim to have the ceremony pulled off." 
 
 The girl thought quickly. Resistance there and then 
 was absolutely useless. Both men were armed, and 
 one of them, at least, was crazy drunk. Neither would 
 hesitate at any rudeness or insult ; a struggle, a defiance^ 
 would mean both. They had gone too far by now ta 
 
 (47) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 hesitate or fail to exercise their power. It would be 
 better to appear to yield, to seem reconciled to the 
 inevitable. She was weaponless, unable to put up any 
 defense; perhaps in the larger room some better oppor- 
 tunity for action might present itself. If she lulled 
 their suspicions, led them to believe that she was con- 
 quered, she might be able to snatch a revolver from 
 some holster, or even evade them and rush back to the 
 safety of her own room. It was a grim, ghastly chance, 
 but she could think of none better. 
 
 "I prefer going there by myself," she said, wonder- 
 ing at the steadiness of her voice, watchful of the ex- 
 pression on Meager's leering face. " No I don't touch 
 me; don't dare to touch me." 
 
 The fellow laughed, but there was a snarl in his tone. 
 
 "All right; so the cat has still got claws, has she? 
 Well, I guess I can wait putting hands on you ; it won't 
 be for long. Go on ahead then. Come along, Sanchez." 
 
 In spite of her trembling limbs the girl walked firmly, 
 never so much as turning her head to glance at the two 
 behind her. She must act her part, play her character, 
 permit them to think her indifferent to results, yet in no 
 way afraid. Without a question she opened the door 
 herself at the end of the narrow hall, and stepped into 
 the room beyond. It was all familiar to her, extending 
 the full width of the home, low-ceilinged, the heavy 
 
 (48) 
 
THE MARRIAGE 
 
 beams supporting the upper floor blackened with smoke. 
 A woven rug of rags partially covered the floor; the fur- 
 niture was heavy, old-fashioned, many pieces rudely 
 made. The narrow windows contained small panes 
 of glass, the outer door was closed, and a clock ticked 
 away on a cupboard in one corner. The only light came 
 from a hand-lamp standing on a small table pushed 
 back against the wall. She saw all this with her first 
 rapid glance. There were two men in the room, the 
 short, thick Mexican called Arvan, sprawling on a 
 settee, and the judge, sunk into the easy chair, where 
 old Tom Meager had sat for so many years, calmly 
 smoking a pipe. At their entrance the fellow got upon 
 his feet and bowed, the pipe still in his hands. Deborah 
 looked anxiously about for the other — the " Frisco 
 Kid" — but he was not in the room. Then, ignoring 
 the hand Garrity held out, her eyes fastened upon the 
 face before her. She never before had seen a counte- 
 nance more repulsive or so deeply marked by dissipa- 
 tion, and her heart seemed to choke her before the 
 sudden stare of those pig eyes and the bestial grin of 
 the thick lips. 
 
 "You — you are the justice from Nogales?" she 
 asked doubtfully. 
 
 " That's what I am ; Judge Cornelius Garrity, ma'am, 
 at your service." 
 
 (49) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 "And you were asked to come out here to marry me 
 to Bob Meager ?" 
 
 " Maybe so, if you are the gurl." 
 
 " I am Deborah Meredith." 
 
 "Begorry now, I had forgotten the name entirely. 
 But you are the one, no doubt. A fine husband ye'll be 
 getting. Bob and I have been friends many a year." 
 
 "I judge so; the natural tie between you is quite 
 apparent. I want to appeal to you, Judge Garrity, as 
 an officer of the law, to refuse to perform this mar- 
 riage " 
 
 "Refuse! I refuse Bob? Why, it's all straight 
 enough; I've got the license here all made out regular 
 with your names on it." 
 
 "That is just the point. That license was procured 
 without my consent, or knowledge. I repudiate it; I 
 refuse to assent to it in any way. I have never agreed 
 to marry Bob Meager. I am here now under threat, 
 and I appeal to you for protection." 
 
 "My dear young woman," he began hoarsely, "I 
 was told before coming here that you were somewhat 
 temperamental, and might therefore desire not to pro- 
 ceed with the ceremony. I shall not be swayed in any 
 way by such tantrums. My own duty is plain; the 
 papers are in correct form; Mr. Meager assures me 
 that he had your consent, and has acted in accordance 
 
 (50) 
 
THE MARRIAGE 
 
 with your own wishes in the matter. It is too late at 
 this hour to change your mind. I trust you will see the 
 justice of this and make no further objections.' , 
 
 "Bob Meager told you that?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "He deliberately lied to you, then. I have never 
 consented, and I never will. I despise and abominate 
 the man " 
 
 " But my young lady, my young lady, stop a moment 
 and listen to reason." 
 
 " Oh, cut out the hot air, Garrity," broke in Meager, 
 surging forward, unable to control himself any longer. 
 " Let her rave if she wants to ; it don't hurt none of us, 
 I reckon. You came out here to do up this job for me, 
 and the sooner it's over with the better. The law of 
 Arizona don't say anything about whether the female 
 consents or not, does it?" 
 
 "Well, not directly, Bob; that's implied, rather." 
 
 " Implied, hell ! You go on and imply it then, pronto. 
 I ain't organizing no debating society, you damn pot- 
 bellied idiot. I'm here to marry this Deborah Mere- 
 dith; that's what I'm paying you for; an' after that I'll 
 attend to her tantrums myself." 
 
 "You mean to force me to marry you?" she asked, 
 her own temper rising to combat his. 
 
 " Sure," he replied brutally. " I never supposed 
 (51) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 you'd do anything else but kick. But that's none of 
 Garrity's business." 
 
 "But such a marriage will not be legal; no court 
 would ever sustain it." 
 
 He laughed coarsely, his eyes staring insultingly into 
 her own. 
 
 "Legal! Courts! You make me tired. This ain't 
 Chicago ! We're out here in an Arizona desert, and I 
 don't remember ever caring a damn what the law says 
 since I was a kid. Here's my law, when it comes to 
 that," and he suggestively slapped the gun holster on 
 his hip, " an' there ain't nobody tells me what I shall do 
 or what I shan't. You better get that first of all. Legal ! 
 Well, I reckon you heard what it was the judge said, 
 didn't you? He's got the license there, and the author- 
 ity. Here's two witnesses, according to law. Now what 
 the hell you going to do ? Suppose any court is going to 
 take your word, unsupported, against the four of us? 
 Besides," and he grinned suggestively, with a drunken 
 leer, " after tonight, I don't reckon you'll be hunting the 
 court anyway; you'll be damn glad you've got a hus- 
 band. Come on up closer, boys, so you can see the whole 
 show — Garrity is going to splice us now, without no 
 more words about it." 
 
 The judge cleared his throat, taking a printed slip of 
 paper from his pocket in his stubby fingers. However 
 
 (52) 
 
THE MARRIAGE 
 
 he may have regretted this job, his personal fear of 
 Meager overcame all objections to performing it. 
 
 " Bob's quite right, miss," he said, with an effort at 
 dignity. "He's sure got the law with him, an' the 
 witnesses." 
 
 "But I refuse to marry him; I do not consent," she 
 insisted, with trembling voice. " I have never told him 
 I would." 
 
 "I ain't got nothing to do with your personal quar- 
 rels. They are for you and Bob to settle. I reckon 
 every married couple has them. You just stand there 
 an' face me." 
 
 She was pressed back against the table, helpless to 
 move, too thoroughly bewildered and dazed for the 
 moment to attempt any action. Sanchez had deserted 
 the door he was guarding, and stood just behind her 
 grinning cheerfully. Arvan was opposite, his dark, 
 half-breed Indian face exhibiting no emotion, while 
 Meager had planted himself at her right, his bloodshot 
 eyes scowling into her own. She saw no chance to push 
 away, no hope of protest; she could but struggle for 
 breath, with limbs trembling beneath her. Garrity 
 began to read, but she only heard him dumbly, her mind 
 inactive, comprehending not a single word. Once 
 Meager reached out and grasped her hand, but she 
 jerked it free, with no other sense than her hatred of 
 
 (53) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 his touch. The judge's voice droned on, what he said 
 having no meaning to her. Then, suddenly, conscious- 
 ness came back as though something had snapped in the 
 numbed brain, the words sounding clear, distinct: "I 
 pronounce you husband and wife, and whom God hath 
 joined together, let no man put asunder." 
 
 With a single sharp cry, she sprang wildly backward, 
 jerked herself free from Sanchez' hasty grip, and 
 dashed headlong for the door leading into the hall. 
 She had no plan, no thought-out scheme of escape, only 
 instinctively headed for the one unlocked passage lead- 
 ing from the room. The quick, unexpected movement 
 gave her time. The startled Mexican and Meager, 
 springing forward to intercept her flight, collided, 
 cursing and striking at each other in that instant of 
 confusion, while she flung open the door and swept out, 
 untouched, into the hall. Her mind contained but one 
 thought as she ran — her own room, the weapon in the 
 bureau drawer. She could defend herself there; kill 
 herself, kill him, if necessary ! He should never touch 
 her — never! She was free now, and would be help- 
 less in his hands never again. She would die first, die 
 gladly, but Bob Meager would never possess her alive. 
 The drunken oaths behind spurred her on, strengthened 
 her resolve. She ran, never glancing back, straight to 
 the entrance sought, flung it open and sprang within, 
 
 (54) 
 
THE MARRIAGE 
 
 slamming the door shut behind her and feeling des- 
 perately for the key. It was not in the lock, nor could 
 she find it lying on the dark floor beneath. Drunk as 
 Meager was, he had thought of that ; had seen to it that 
 the way to her apartment would be left unguarded. 
 The girl turned, her heart beating rapidly, and crossed 
 to the bureau. Thank God ! he had not discovered the 
 gun, and she swung defiantly about, the weapon gripped 
 in her hand. 
 
 (55) 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE BLOW IN THE DARK 
 
 DEBORAH, the revolver held tightly in her fingers, 
 moved silently back into the darkest corner of 
 the room, and crouched there listening. She had no 
 time to think or plan, no comprehension of anything 
 other than a desperate determination to defend herself 
 to the last extremity. If those men entered that door 
 she meant to shoot, and shoot to kill. This one deadly 
 purpose was all she was conscious of, or cared for. 
 
 Perhaps in some vague way, Meager may have real- 
 ized her desperation. He knew nothing of her being 
 armed, yet, even in his drunkenness, had learned some- 
 thing of her temper, and hesitated to face her immedi- 
 ately. Why should he run the risk? He already had 
 attained his principal object; they were married, and he 
 could wait until her anger subsided somewhat before 
 asserting his legal rights. Meanwhile the boys were 
 waiting for their drinks, and he felt more inclined to 
 celebrate the victory along with them and let tomorrow 
 take care of itself. 
 
 Some faint conception of this situation occurred to 
 her, as she crouched there in the dark watchfully wait- 
 
 (56) 
 
THE BLOW IN THE DARK 
 
 ing, yet remained undisturbed. The tension relaxed, 
 and she felt again her womanly weakness, her ques- 
 tioning, and despair. She laid the revolver beside her 
 on the floor and buckled the belt with its load of cart- 
 ridges about her waist; then picked the weapon up once 
 again and rested it on her knee. She was no longer 
 crazed, but able to think clearly and decide what to 
 attempt next. 
 
 The starlight filtering through the window gave her 
 a dim vision of the interior. No one touched the door, 
 but she could hear voices in the hall and knew some of 
 the men had followed that far. What had halted them 
 she could only guess at, for merely detached words 
 reached her ears, mingled with oaths, and finally ending 
 in loud laughter. Then they seemed to go away, for 
 all became silent, and in the reaction the knowledge 
 that she had been thus left alone, undisturbed, brought 
 to the girl a strange sense of shame. Her cheeks were 
 no longer white, but hot and glowing. Meager's action 
 could mean but one thing — his utter confidence that 
 she was already securely in his power. She could not 
 escape, she would be waiting there for him when he 
 was ready to possess her. Now he would go back, drink 
 and carouse with his boon companions ; what difference 
 did an hour make ; she was his wife ; when he was drunk 
 enough, reckless enough, he would come to claim her. 
 
 (57) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 That was what he had boasted, no doubt, and his coarse 
 joke had caused that outburst of laughter. The foul, 
 brutal cur ! Well, let him come ; she would continue to 
 wait, and he should have his welcome. His wife ! She 
 might be his widow before dawn. 
 
 She did not move for a long, long time ; did not take 
 her eyes from the closed door, or release her grip on 
 the revolver. She felt cold, tireless, actuated only by 
 a relentless hatred. She wished he would come so that 
 it might be over with. But nothing happened, and, little 
 by little, her mood changed. The strain began to tell, 
 began to break down her resolution, left her doubtful 
 and afraid. She ventured to open the door a slight 
 crack and peep cautiously out into the hall ; it was de- 
 serted, not even a guard had been stationed there, but 
 the door at the farther end, leading into the living-room, 
 had been left open, and she could hear the men in there 
 making merry. It was a babel of voices at first; then 
 someone began to sing a ribald song in English, and at 
 the first line she drew back, shutting out the hateful 
 sound with a feeling of supreme disgust. 
 
 Trembling from head to foot, she crossed to the 
 window and looked out into the cool mists of the night. 
 No guard had been posted here either. Evidently she 
 had been left perfectly free to go or come as she pleased, 
 yet she fully understood how limited that freedom was. 
 
 (58) 
 
THE BLOW IN THE DARK 
 
 She might flee from the house, but that was all; the 
 borders of the ranch were still her prison walls, the 
 efficient guard those sand deserts stretching in every 
 direction, trackless and impassable on foot, vast, water- 
 less leagues, where she would perish miserably. A light 
 still burned in the bunkhouse, but the building seemed 
 deserted. Once two men passed down the hill, leaning 
 heavily upon each other, staggering and singing, disap- 
 pearing finally through the open door. She was still 
 staring after them, when a sound from behind suddenly 
 caused her to face about. A fumbling hand was lifting 
 the iron latch; the door was being pressed open with an 
 effort at silence. Motionless, breathless with appre- 
 hension, the girl watched the entering beam of light 
 broaden until Bob Meager stood swaying in the door- 
 way, clutching at the knob to steady himself. He did 
 not see her at first, his bloodshot eyes blindly searching 
 the apartment; then he must have perceived her outline 
 against the window, for he lurched forward, giving 
 vent to an exclamation of relief. 
 
 " Hell, so you are here, waiting for me? Damned if 
 I didn't think maybe you'd taken a chance outside. Too 
 blame sensible, ain't you ? I thought likely you'd come 
 to your senses if I left you here alone awhile. Going to 
 be good to me now, you little cat? Say ! what you got to 
 say for yourself, anyhow?" 
 
 (59) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " Only this ; don't you come another step toward me." 
 
 He burst into a gruff laugh, slapping his knee. 
 
 " The hell you say ! Who do you think I am, any- 
 how ? Some kid afraid of a woman ? Say, listen, that's 
 no way for a wife to welcome her husband. I got a 
 right in here, and you bet I'm going to stay. Got an idea 
 you can bluff me, I reckon. Well, I ain't that kind, an' 
 you might as well learn it now as later. This is our 
 wedding night and we've had a hell of a time celebrating 
 it. The boys is all drunk, plum laid out; I'm the only 
 sober guy left in the party, and so I come here to see 
 you. Here's where I ought to be, ain't it? Say, why 
 don't you say something? What you going to do?" 
 
 "I am going to kill you, Bob Meager," she said 
 coldly, " unless you leave this room." 
 
 11 Kill me ! Why, you blame little fool, I could crush 
 the life out o' you with one hand — see, just like that. 
 And by God, I got the right if you get too gay. I'm your 
 husband, ain't I? That's what the law says, and I'm 
 going to be your husband, you can bet your life on that. 
 Think you'll scare me, do you?" he burst into an ugly 
 laugh. "Not this time, you won't." He turned and 
 closed the door; then crossed the room toward her, 
 reeling drunkenly, yet quite able to retain his feet. [The 
 starlight rendered his features visible. Her motionless 
 silence caused him to pause. 
 
 (60) 
 
THE BLOW IN THE DARK 
 
 "Pretty damn still, ain't you?" he exclaimed, peer- 
 ing at her suspiciously; " why don't you talk? When I 
 speak to a woman I want her to say something." 
 
 " There is nothing more for me to say." 
 
 " Only that you're going to kill me if I touch you, 
 hey? All right, then; here's your chance." 
 
 He took two steps toward her, his hands reaching 
 out eagerly, his face thrust forward. Then he stopped 
 suddenly, with startled eyes staring into the leveled 
 muzzle of the .44, his lips giving suppressed utterance 
 to a swift ejaculation. 
 
 " I'll be damned!" 
 
 " Put your hands up, Bob Meager ! " the words were 
 icy cold. " Up, I say ! Don't fool with me now. Turn 
 around and go out that door. I am not playing; this 
 means your life or mine. Go ! " 
 
 "But say, wait — listen to me." 
 
 "Not to another word. This is my game. You 
 thought you were coming here to bully a helpless girl. 
 You were so sure of your brute strength you even took 
 off your gun and left it behind. You are not sneering 
 about my killing you now. God knows why I don't, 
 you drunken cur; but there is only one thing that will 
 save you — get out that door, and stay out." 
 
 He cringed back, cowardly, yet with drunken cun- 
 ning. Desperate as she was, there was hesitation in the 
 
 (61) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 girl's action. Dimly he grasped the truth that she 
 shrank from the necessity of shooting; that she would 
 actually pull the trigger only as a last resort. He took 
 the chance. 
 
 "Sure," he muttered, "you got the drop and I cave. 
 So long, honey." 
 
 He half turned away, reeling drunkenly, then sud- 
 denly, unexpectedly, flung his body directly at her, 
 crushing her back against the wall, both falling together, 
 the weapon undischarged beneath her body. Swift, sur- 
 prising as the assault was, she had yet escaped the grip 
 of his hands, and was on her knees again before he 
 could move. The revolver was her only weapon, but 
 in the fall she had lost grip of the stock. It lay there 
 glittering in the starlight, and desperate, maddened by 
 the danger, obeying the first wild instinct of the instant, 
 she snatched it up by the barrel and struck with all her 
 force at the man's head. The fellow gave utterance to 
 no moan, his limbs twitched, and then he lay motionless, 
 his face against the floor. 
 
 Deborah slowly lifted her body, shrinking back from 
 the darkly outlined form, beginning to comprehend with 
 horror what she had done. She still held tight to the 
 weapon with which she had dealt the blow, although 
 realizing that she no longer required its protection; 
 The silence was terrifying; her nerves tingled painfully, 
 
 (62) 
 
THE BLOW IN THE DARK 
 
 she found difficulty in breathing. Was the man dead? 
 Had she actually killed him with that one hasty blow? 
 She could scarcely realize the possibility, and yet she 
 had struck with all her force, driven to it by terror un- 
 controllable. She shrank now from even touching him ; 
 nurse as she was, having witnessed death in every form 
 of horror, and ministered to wounds of every degree, 
 she would not place hand on this man, whether he lived 
 or died. Her repugnance to him had become an obses- 
 sion; she felt no desire to save him if she might. He 
 represented to her mind all that was base and evil; 
 she was glad she had struck him down. 
 
 But what now? This question overshadowed all 
 else. The thing she had been imagining for so long 
 had at last come to pass. He had come to her, come 
 claiming her with insult and outrage, and she had 
 actually dealt the blow of which she had dreamed. 
 Her courage had not failed her, and he was lying there 
 now in the darkness at her feet, sorely wounded, per- 
 haps dead. It was her act, she had done it — what 
 now? She had never faced this situation before, the 
 aftermath. She had only planned out her course of 
 action up to this point, giving no heed to what must 
 naturally follow. Now it fronted her in sudden, grim, 
 gripping terror. Whether Meager was dead or alive, 
 she must get away. Better to face any danger of the 
 
 (63) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 great desert than remain where she was, with not a 
 friend to counsel or protect her, not a white man to 
 whom she could appeal. And, if she did go, her escape 
 must be accomplished at once; every instant of delay 
 only increased the peril. There must be hours of dark- 
 ness yet; those who would stop her, who would follow 
 on her trail, were in drunken stupor, either in the living- 
 room, or the bunkhouse. At present, at least, the way 
 must be clear. 
 
 The girl thrust the revolver back into its holster at 
 her waist, and glanced out through the window into 
 the quiet night. The decision to act had left its im- 
 press upon her ; she was no longer trembling with fear, 
 doubtful as to her best course. Of two evils, the desert, 
 or these lawless men, she chose the less cruel, the 
 desert. If she was to die, it would be, at least, in honor. 
 Once decided, her mind worked rapidly. In all prob- 
 ability not a man remained sober about the home ranch; 
 if any horses had been left in the stable, she therefore 
 ought to get several hours the start of a pursuing party. 
 She believed Meager was dead, and, if so, his followers 
 would be slow to discover what had happened, and 
 would possess no leadership. This, inevitably would 
 mean delay. While, even if the fellow should live, 
 hours surely must elapse before he could take the trail. 
 With a good horse under her, she would be beyond 
 
 (64) 
 
THE BLOW IN THE DARK 
 
 sight out on the desert, riding straight for those two 
 peaks that old Tom Meager had pointed out to her as 
 marking the Nogales trail. With such a start in the 
 race there was surely a chance to win. Her pulses 
 throbbed exultantly at this sudden awakening of hope, 
 and, without so much as another glance at the body 
 prostrate on the floor, she hurried to carry out her 
 plans. 
 
 (65) 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE MAN IN THE DARK 
 
 AN UNRECOGNIZED Mexican lay in drunken 
 . slumber, curled up like a dog, on the floor of the 
 passage, but she found no difficulty in passing the fel- 
 low. She neither heard nor saw any of the others, as 
 she made her way through the rear door, and across 
 the few feet of open space dividing the main house from 
 the detached kitchen. There was a lamp burning in the 
 latter, and the remains of fire in the stove, but no oc- 
 cupant. Undoubtedly the cook had indulged also, and 
 was now slumbering with the rest in some dark corner. 
 Deborah knew the place well, and lost no time in gather- 
 ing together what food she required, fortunate enough 
 to discover a small sack in which it could be conveniently 
 transported. 
 
 The effort had proven easy and safe so far, and her 
 heart beat hopefully, as she emerged from the kitchen, 
 thus equipped. Now if she could only procure a horse, 
 escape actually appeared possible. In the dim radiance 
 of the stars, she could trace the dark outlines of the 
 stables down the steep grade, a hundred yards, or more, 
 beyond the bunkhouse. Doubtless the ranch horses had 
 
 (60) 
 
THE MAN IN THE DARK 
 
 all been turned loose into the large corral. She had no 
 means of catching these half-broken animals, but it 
 might be that the horses ridden by the party arriving 
 during the evening, had been put in the stable, ready 
 for immediate use. These were weary enough from 
 their desert trip when they arrived, but that was hours 
 ago ; they must have been fed and watered since, and, 
 with the rest, would be fairly fit by this time for an- 
 other journey. They were wiry broncos, able to endure 
 any amount of hardship. It was then she remembered 
 the horse the " Frisco Kid" had been riding. Even in 
 the darkness she had marked the fine, blooded lines of 
 the animal, the far better condition in which he ap- 
 peared to be. The animal had lifted his head when the 
 light from the open door streamed forth, and pawed 
 impatiently, with his front hoofs. If she could only 
 lay hands on him. 
 
 " Frisco Kid ! " What had ever become of the fel- 
 low? She wondered as she slowly made her way down 
 the slope, keeping, as far from the bunkhouse as 
 possible. She had neither seen nor heard of him since 
 that first meeting with Meager. He had simply dropped 
 out of sight, disappeared completely. Perhaps he was 
 among those drunken dogs in the living-room, sleeping 
 off their carousal; yet somehow she did not believe it. 
 Someway his voice and manner had strangely impressed 
 
 (67) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 her as different ; he did not belong with that crew. Out- 
 law, desperado, she knew him to be, a man with a price 
 on his head, yet surely he was no drunken, roystering 
 brute. He had not even gone into the house ; she was 
 sure of that now, remembering clearly. He had led 
 the horses away, while the other two entered with 
 Meager. Nor had he returned later ; not at least while 
 she was at the window, and he was not in attendance 
 at the wedding. 
 
 Then the truth suddenly occurred to her — the man 
 was hiding out. He dare not risk drinking, or being 
 shut up in a house. He was a hunted creature, watch- 
 ful of treachery in every human being. He could 
 trust no one, not even his companions in crime; there 
 was a reward for him, dead or alive. He would be 
 out yonder in the dark somewhere, alone, he and his 
 horse, wakening at the slightest sound. Perhaps he 
 would be the one she needed to fear the most, when 
 the pursuit started. These thoughts flashed swiftly 
 through her mind, almost unconsciously, as she stole 
 forward silently through the shadows. She passed a 
 figure lying in the trail, too drunk to even reach the 
 bunkhouse, but as she crept past the open door of the 
 latter saw no signs of any occupants within. .They were 
 there, no doubt, a good dozen of them, but lying help- 
 lessly in their bunks with no present interest in what 
 
 (68) 
 
THE MAN IN THE DARK 
 
 might be happening about them. Except for the few 
 line-riders, and that outlaw hiding in some thicket of 
 chaparral, the whole personnel of the ranch were stu- 
 pefied with liquor, indifferent to any occurrence going 
 on about them. 
 
 A bit reckless now, because of this knowledge, the 
 girl ventured through the great open door of the stable, 
 and began groping her way forward searching the 
 stalls. It was intensely dark inside, but the place was 
 familiar enough. There were ten stalls, but seldom 
 did these contain anything other than work horses; 
 the riding ponies were almost invariably turned loose 
 in the corral. She could only hope there might be an 
 exception to this general rule on this particular night — 
 at least that the Nogales animals might have been 
 stabled, rather than turned out to run free. She stole 
 forward cautiously, hearing no sound to alarm her, 
 the bag of food grasped in one hand, the other ex- 
 tended in an endeavor to touch familiar objects so as 
 to guide her through the gloom. 
 
 The first stall was empty, and, as she started to 
 advance toward the second, she came to a sudden pause, 
 with heart leaping into her throat — there had been 
 a sound at her left, a rusding of straw, as though some- 
 thing had made a quick movement. She listened in- 
 tently, drawing a breath of relief at the succeeding 
 
 (69) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 silence. No doubt it was a horse stirring, or possibly 
 a rat. Then a voice spoke sternly not three feet away. 
 
 "Put up your hands! Who are you? What are 
 you doing in here?" 
 
 She obeyed instinctively, too frightened to even 
 speak, dropping the bag to the floor, forgetting com- 
 pletely the revolver buckled about her waist. 
 
 A hand reached forward out of the darkness, and 
 gripped her upraised arm; she was conscious of the 
 close presence of a man, yet for the instant retained 
 no power of movement. 
 
 " Why don't you speak? " said the same voice, impa- 
 tiently, evidently angered at her silence. "What are 
 you sneaking about in here for ? Well, I'll be damned ! " 
 his tone changing, "if I don't believe it's a woman." 
 
 "It is a woman," she managed to reply falteringly. 
 "But — but does that make any difference?" 
 
 He laughed, a certain relief evidenced in the sound, 
 although he did not in any way relax his vigilance. 
 
 " Well, I confess it might," he admitted, " for you 
 are a most unusual discovery in this section. I was 
 looking for almost anything else. You belong with 
 this outfit?" 
 
 "To the Meager ranch, you mean? Yes — that is, 
 I have been employed here. You — you are not a 
 Mexican, are you?" 
 
 (70) 
 
THE MAN IN THE DARK 
 
 "I should say not. I belong north of the line, if 
 that's any relief to you. And what's more, if you want 
 to be square with me, I'll play fair on my side. You 
 believe that?" 
 
 " I shall have to ; it wouldn't do me any good to lie." 
 
 "I reckon not; so let's get it over with; who are 
 you?" 
 
 " Deborah Meredith," she explained, rather eagerly. 
 "I — I am a professional nurse; my home is in Chi- 
 cago. Tom Meager employed me to come out here 
 and take care of his wife." ~ 
 
 " Tom Meager ; was that the name of Bob's father ? " 
 
 "Yes; he was straight. I liked him; she was his 
 second wife, not Bob's mother." 
 
 "Sure, I heard a little about that; Bob told me; he 
 hated the woman." 
 
 "Are you a friend of Bob Meager's ? " 
 
 The man chuckled, and she knew he had put away 
 the weapon he had held in his hand. 
 
 " Well, he's got an idea that I am. We've run about 
 together a bit, I admit; which confession maybe is no 
 recommendation to you." 
 
 " No, it is not." 
 
 " I thought likely it wouldn't be. So you and Bob 
 are not good friends?" 
 
 "I despise and hate the man; he is a drunken brute." 
 (71) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 "Granted freely; but if you feel that way, why did 
 you remain here on the ranch? " 
 
 "Because I have had no chance to get away since 
 his father died. I could not desert my patient, and 
 besides, had no reason to suppose Bob would come 
 back and take possession. He was a fugitive from 
 justice; his father had lost all faith in him, and — and 
 I had reason to believe he had been shut out from all 
 right to this property." 
 
 "You had reason to believe? What reason? I am 
 not asking merely from curiosity; I want to understand 
 the entire situation. Believe me, I would rather be- 
 friend you than him." 
 
 "Why do you say that? just to draw me on?" 
 
 " No ; I am really interested. I already have an idea 
 what this means ; you are endeavoring to escape alone? " 
 
 "It seemed my only chance," she confessed, heart- 
 ened by the man's words, and manner, and eagerly 
 wishing she might see his face. "But I am talking 
 with a stranger; perhaps I trust you too much." 
 
 "Is there anything else you can do?" he insisted. 
 " I have it in my power to aid you, or prevent your 
 escape. You must choose which it shall be." 
 
 She drew in her breath sharply, the full truth of 
 what he said clear to her mind. 
 
 " What you say is true," she admitted frankly. " I 
 
 (72) 
 
THE MAN IN THE DARK 
 
 must trust you blindly; I have no other choice. You 
 are not employed here?" 
 
 "No, I just blew in last night." 
 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 " Daniel Kelleen." 
 
 "You are not a cow-puncher surely? You — you 
 have education." 
 
 He laughed good-humoredly. 
 
 "Nevertheless, I am quite accustomed to cow- 
 punching. Perhaps IVe had a trifle more schooling 
 than some of the boys. Still, if you accept me at all, 
 it will have to be just as I am. Now let me have the 
 straight of all this affair, and then we'll get busy. Tell 
 it to me from the first." 
 
 Deborah stared at the man's dim outline through 
 the darkness. If she could only see the expression of 
 his face. And yet, as she had already acknowledged, 
 there was no choice left her — she must trust him 
 blindly, absolutely; he could defend, or betray her at 
 his own will. So clear was this situation she scarcely 
 hesitated. 
 
 "Yes, I will tell you, Daniel Kelleen," she said 
 gravely. " I must trust someone, and you seem to be 
 the one sent. All I know of you is, that you are an 
 American. I am an American also, and a woman. If 
 that does not appeal to you, then nothing else will. I 
 
 (73) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 have told you already who I am, and how I came here. 
 The remainder of the story is brief. I have had noth- 
 ing to do with Bob Meager since he returned, imme- 
 diately after his father's sudden death. There was 
 no opportunity for me to leave the ranch, so I remained 
 in care of Mrs. Meager. Until last evening I never 
 even encountered Bob but once. Then he came unex- 
 pectedly into his stepmother's room, and we met briefly. 
 I thought nothing of this meeting at the time, except 
 that his actions and words intensified my dislike of the 
 man. He was brutal and insulting to us both. After 
 that I kept out of his way, and he apparently ignored 
 my presence entirely. I did notice, however, that he 
 was getting rid of all the old employees on the ranch, 
 and replacing them with Mexicans. Evidently he 
 wanted no Americans about him." 
 
 14 1 understand; not his kind." 
 
 "So I thought, but with no conception that this 
 change had any reference to me." 
 
 "It did have, then?" 
 
 44 So it seems now. He came upon me suddenly alone 
 last evening. I was at the edge of the plateau, close 
 to the Nogales trail, watching the sunset over the 
 desert, and saw nothing of him until he stood beside 
 me. There was no chance for me to get away, and 
 I had to listen to what he said." She dropped her face 
 
 (74) 
 
THE MAN IN THE DARK 
 
 into her hands, but instantly lifted it again, and went 
 on, her voice strengthening with indignation. Kelleen 
 made no movement. 
 
 "He — he was not even decent about what he had 
 to say. I was merely a chattel he had to deal with, a 
 slave to use as he pleased. It doesn't sound true, but 
 it is true, every word." 
 
 " Go on," said the other dispassionately. " I know 
 Bob Meager." 
 
 "He said he was going to marry me; he didn't ask 
 me about it at all; just stated it as a fact. Said he'd 
 made up his mind the first time he saw me, and had 
 been getting things ready ever since. When I tried to 
 object, the brute just laughed, and asked how I was 
 going to help myself. He made me realize the situa- 
 tion I was in, without an American left on the ranch, 
 and those miles of desert stretching away on every 
 side. He — he frightened me terribly, and he gave 
 me no time to think, or plan an escape. To appeal to 
 him was utterly useless." 
 
 " I should say it would be." 
 
 11 Then he told me everything was arranged for this 
 very night. A — a man was coming out from Nogales 
 to marry us. He said I better go into the house, and 
 get ready. Then he laughed again, and went away. 
 He — -he wasn't afraid to leave me there alone, for 
 
 (75) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 there was no place where I could hide, no chance to 
 leave the ranch. I — I was hardly sane, but — but 
 after awhile I went back to the house; what else was 
 there I could do?" 
 
 11 Nothing, I reckon, unless you killed the cuss. What 
 did you do ? " 
 
 "I — I made up my mind to do even that," she con- 
 fessed. " I stole a revolver from the bunkhouse while 
 the men were at mess, and then locked myself in my 
 own room to wait. I thought perhaps he was lying; 
 but he wasn't. Along about nine o'clock the outfit rode 
 in from Nogales. There was nothing for me to do but 
 wait desperately. I meant to stay there, and defend 
 myself, behind that locked door. But that devil tricked 
 me. He got Mrs. Meager to call to me from the 
 hall, saying she had one of her bad turns, and I opened 
 the door to help her. I — I hardly know what hap- 
 pened after that. I tried to explain to the man who 
 came to marry us, but he wouldn't listen. He was just 
 a creature Bob Meager had picked up to serve him." 
 
 "Sure! I know him — Garrity; he'd murder his 
 mother for a drink of booze." 
 
 11 But is he really a judge ? " 
 
 11 He's a justice of the peace down at Nogales." 
 
 "Then I was really married? It — it was legal?" 
 
 " Darn if I know about that. I think likely the whole 
 
 (76) 
 
THE MAN IN THE DARK 
 
 outfit would swear you consented. Who were in the 
 gang?" 
 
 " Juan Sanchez, a ranch foreman, and a black-faced 
 fellow who came out from Nogales." 
 
 "Arvan; they'd swear anything Bob told them to. 
 They'd make it out you were married all right" 
 
 " But — but I'm not; not now! " 
 
 "Not now? What do you mean?" 
 
 "I've — I've killed him !" 
 
 (77) 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A NEW ALLIANCE 
 
 FOR a moment Kelleen did not move; then impul- 
 sively he groped for her hand in the darkness. 
 
 "You killed him? You did? Say, I like you," he 
 exclaimed earnestly. "You are sure some girl, you 
 are. But are you certain you killed him? " 
 
 "I — I think so — yes," she stammered, totally sur- 
 prised by the way in which he greeted her news. " But 
 I — I am not exactly sure." 
 
 "You are a nurse, you said?" 
 
 "Yes, but — but someway I couldn't touch the man. 
 He was so repulsive to me — I couldn't. All I know 
 is he is lying there on the floor of my room, and — and 
 he never moved after he was struck." 
 
 " Struck ? You did not shoot, then ? " 
 
 " No ; I had no chance. I got away from them, and 
 ran to my own room, where I meant to lock myself in, 
 but someone had taken the key. I shut the door behind 
 me and got the revolver out of a drawer, determined 
 to defend myself. The men followed, but stopped 
 outside in the hall. I could hear them laugh and talk; 
 then they went back to the front room again. Bob 
 
A NEW ALLIANCE 
 
 was so sure I couldn't get away, he wasn't afraid to 
 leave me there. He planned to get drunk first, and 
 then come back." 
 
 "Sure; that would be his style; and you waited? 
 You didn't try to get away ? " 
 
 " Get away ! Where could I go ? Only out into the 
 desert, and those men would have trailed me if I tried 
 that. Yes, I waited in the dark, desperate, determined 
 to kill him when he came. And he came finally, so 
 drunk he could hardly stand, but ugly with the liquor. 
 He had outdrank all the others and boasted of it, and — 
 and then he came reeling to me. I — I do not seem to 
 remember exactly what did happen; he laughed and 
 jeered at me, and got hold of the weapon before I had 
 courage to fire. Then we struggled, and the grip of 
 his hands drove me mad. The revolver fell to the 
 floor, but I got it, and struck at him with all my might. 
 That was all; he just lay there, and never moved; I 
 could see his face in the starlight, but — but I couldn't 
 make myself touch him. I — I believed he was dead, 
 that I had killed him." 
 
 " Never mind, little girl," interrupted Kelleen firmly, 
 "maybe he was, but I doubt it; guys like that are not 
 croaked so easy. Then, I take it, you ran away." 
 
 "Yes; I — I couldn't stay there, and I thought per- 
 haps, there might be a chance, if I could only find a 
 
 (7<n 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 horse somewhere. I knew the others were all drunk, 
 and I would not be missed before morning. I had to 
 try, and that was how I came to be here. You — you 
 understand now?" 
 
 "Yes, I understand, and I am going to stay with 
 you. But first, let's get this straight. I am not brag- 
 ging about myself, and, I reckon, ordinarily, you 
 wouldn't be pickin' me out for a companion, but right 
 now, it's any port in a storm. One thing's sure, I don't 
 belong to Bob Meager's outfit, and I like you. The 
 main question is, are you ready to trust me as a white 
 man?" 
 
 "Yes — lam." 
 
 "That means a lot more than you think right now," 
 he went on, but evidently encouraged by her tone. " Be- 
 cause it ain't going to be so easy getting away. I know 
 this country off the main trails. I don't take any stock 
 in Bob's being dead; he's got a knockout, that's all, 
 and when he comes to himself again, he's going to be 
 raving. He'll have every rider on this ranch on our 
 trail, and the best we can reckon on is maybe three 
 hours start. You got to stay with me, and do just what 
 I say — and, girl, that sure means you must trust me 
 plumb to the limit. Do you sabe that? This ain't going 
 to be no canter between here and Nogales; the only 
 chance we've got is to hide out, first in the desert, and 
 
 (80) 
 
A NEW ALLIANCE 
 
 then in the hills. I'm telling it to you rough; but you 
 better know it now than later." 
 
 11 You mean we shall have to be alone together for — 
 for some time?" 
 
 "That's the stuff. We ain't going to have an easy 
 gallop into town. You don't know me from Adam, 
 and if you did, I reckon you wouldn't go a mile with 
 me. I ain't very highly thought of along this border, 
 I'll say that; there ain't many would choose me fer a 
 partner, that's a fact. More, I ain't got nothing to say 
 to you except that I'm going to play square. If you 
 trust me I'll bring you through safe enough in one way 
 or another; but if you don't feel that you can go the 
 limit, then the best thing for you to do, maybe, is to 
 stay here, and scrap it out with Bob Meager. My 
 notion is this running away with his wife ain't going to 
 be no snap even for me, and darned if I'm going to 
 tackle the job except you're of a mind to go clear 
 through with me." 
 
 "You think I am his wife, then? that he is really 
 alive?" 
 
 " I havn't a doubt of it. At least I am going to pro- 
 ceed on that theory. Meager is the one we have got 
 to escape from ; if he recovers by daylight from that rap 
 you gave him, he is going to lead us a merry chase. 
 Every minute of a start we get, the better. But I want 
 
 (81) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 you to get it straight — will you go with me?" 
 
 There was an eager earnestness in his voice of which 
 she was fully conscious, yet someway this did not 
 frighten her. The one vision of Bob Meager, drunk 
 and grasping her in his arms, dominated all else, and 
 left her careless of any lesser danger. There was no 
 hope in remaining where she was, alone, in the power 
 of this outfit; any effort at escape, no matter how des- 
 perate, was infinitely better than a weak surrender to 
 such a fate. Kelleen was white, an American, a border 
 desperado, no doubt, yet he talked square, and had 
 given her pledge of protection. He offered her the 
 only available chance; she must trust the man blindly, 
 or else resign herself to fate. No other choice re- 
 mained. Impulsively she thrust out her hand in silent 
 promise. 
 
 "You mean yes ?" 
 
 " I mean yes. I trust you fully, absolutely. I will 
 do exactly as you say." 
 
 "It is bound to be some test, young lady," he 
 returned gravely, releasing her hand, and rising to his 
 feet, " but I reckon I won't let you regret it. Nobody 
 ever trusted Dan Kelleen yet and found him a piker. 
 We're pardners now; let's go." 
 
 He picked up a saddle from the bed of hay on which 
 he had been resting; found another hanging on a stake 
 
 (82) 
 
A NEW ALLIANCE 
 
 driven into a beam, and with both flung carelessly over 
 his shoulder, emerged through the open door into the 
 starlight. Deborah followed closely, a new feeling of 
 relief giving lightness to her step. She was no longer 
 alone, unguided; something about the words and actions 
 of the man brought confidence. She had not even seen 
 his face, yet his very presence inspired courage; she 
 had found a friend, a companion. His movements 
 added to her faith. The situation was plainly no nov- 
 elty to him; he had been a fugitive before and had 
 learned every trick in the hard school of experience. 
 A moment he paused motionless in the shadow of the 
 stable, studying the dimly revealed scene. There was 
 no movement visible anywhere, although a light burned 
 in the bunkhouse, and the faint glimmer of another 
 appeared through the window of the more distant 
 ranchhouse. These meant nothing but as reminders 
 of the night's orgy, convincing, indeed, that the revel- 
 ers were still soundly asleep as a result of their debauch. 
 Whatever had happened to Bob Meager, it was clearly 
 evident the fellow had not yet recovered conscious- 
 ness, and it was hardly likely his fellows would become 
 aroused until he sounded the alarm. The way of 
 escape still remained open, but no one could tell for 
 how long. Success might hang upon moments. Kel- 
 leen's keen eyes searched the deep shadows anxiously, 
 
 (S3) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 but his lips smiled in satisfaction. 
 
 "It's all right," he whispered confidently. "The 
 gang is still doped, I reckon. You don't see anyone 
 moving, do you ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then follow me." He stopped suddenly. " You 
 ride, don't you?" 
 
 "Yes." ' 
 
 "Good! It struck me maybe you didn't, being a 
 nurse from the East. Learn how out here? " 
 
 "Not entirely; I have always ridden, but old Tom 
 Meager taught me a lot." 
 
 "Well, it's going to come handy now. My horse 
 is all right, but I'll have to rope one for you, and I 
 might pick a wild devil in the dark. Could you 
 stay?" 
 
 "As long as he keeps his feet." 
 
 " Damn, but I like your style ! " he said enthusiasti- 
 cally, letting his hand rest an instant on her shoulder. 
 " You and I are going to hit it off fine. Come on, now; 
 keep back in the shadow." 
 
 She waited at the bars of the corral while Kelleen 
 vanished in the darkness of the open, lightly swinging 
 a coiled lariat in his hand. It was a wonderful night, 
 the stars like lamps in the sky, the silence profound. 
 The air blew cold against her cheek, but not so much 
 
 (84) 
 
A NEW ALLIANCE 
 
 as the rustle of a leaf broke the stillness. Both houses 
 were from there hidden from view, and, now that her 
 newly found companion had disappeared, Deborah felt 
 entirely alone. Had she done right to repose trust in 
 him? Who was the man? In his presence, hearing 
 his voice, mysteriously influenced by his careless per- 
 sonality, she felt strangely drawn toward him, but now, 
 that he had vanished, doubts came surging back. Why 
 was he at the ranch if he had no connection with Bob 
 Meager? What would his presence there imply? The 
 ranch was on no commonly used trail; visitors never 
 came without a purpose. To reach there at all required 
 miles of desert travel, with no little hardship. There 
 must always be an object in such a journey. What could 
 it be in this case? Was the fellow a mere drifter, seek- 
 ing a job? A fugitive from justice, hiding from the 
 law? or actually in Meager's service? Surely he must 
 be one of the three; nothing else would account for his 
 presence under such circumstances — his hiding out in 
 the stable, his secrecy, even the disparaging remarks 
 he had made about himself. 
 
 Yet she liked, and trusted him; felt no fear of the 
 man. So far as his relations with her were concerned 
 not a doubt of his absolute squareness assailed her. 
 She believed his promise. Outlaw, fugitive, border 
 desperado, he had won her faith already. The reac- 
 
 (85) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 tion she experienced from being helplessly alone caused 
 her now to rest all hope on this stranger who had so 
 mysteriously come to her rescue; she cared not who 
 he might be, or from whence he came. Enough that 
 he was there, strong-armed, capable, fearless, willing 
 to befriend her, to guide her safely. This very relief 
 felt, left her helpless to question his motive; she was 
 ready enough to follow him, to do whatever he desired. 
 It was this spirit of almost blind confidence that the girl 
 welcomed his return when he finally emerged from out 
 the black shadows, leading two horses trailing quietly 
 behind, through the corral gate. She could not even 
 wholly refrain from showing her eagerness. 
 
 " Let me aid now," she insisted. " I am not quite 
 helpless; indeed I am not." 
 
 He laughed softly, his eyes searching the shadows, 
 rather than seeking her. 
 
 " No, no ; the quickest way will be for you to stand 
 quietly, and hold the brutes; this animal seems a bit 
 ugly. I'll try him out myself." 
 
 He saddled and bridled the two rapidly, evidently 
 accustomed to working in the dark. 
 
 "Are you ready?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Put your foot in my hand. This is my horse ; he'll 
 carry you fine. Now, up you go. This your water 
 
 (86) 
 
A NEW ALLIANCE 
 
 bottle? I'll strap it to the pommel where it will be 
 handy." 
 
 He swung into the saddle himself, restraining the 
 half-broken animal with an iron hand. 
 
 "You know the way down the mesa?" he asked, 
 "the Nogales trail?" 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "Then ride ahead, and I'll follow. I may have 
 trouble with this brute before he learns who is master. 
 Just go straight on out into the desert. I'll not be far 
 away." 
 
 She rode forward, never questioning his right to 
 command. It seemed the most natural thing in the 
 world to obey. The horse under her moved steadily 
 at a swift walk, alert but well trained, obedient to the 
 slightest pressure of her fingers on the rein. The 
 muffled sounds of a struggle reached her ears, and she 
 turned in the saddle to look back, but darkness hid 
 everything. The man would conquer, and keep his 
 word, and she guided her mount into the narrow trail, 
 scarcely discernible beneath the tree shadows. Her 
 courage was high ; she was no longer alone ; the dread 
 of the desert had left her. 
 
 (87) 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE ROAD TO SILVER SPRINGS 
 
 DEBORAH found passage down the steep hillside 
 and had advanced some distance across the level, 
 before Kelleen joined her. No words were exchanged 
 between them as he reined in his horse beside her own. 
 Evidently the man was satisfied with her knowledge of 
 the trail as well as the progress made. He turned in the 
 saddle, gazing searchingly back at the dim outline of the 
 mesa, now barely visible through the gloom. His horse, 
 completely conquered, had lost all restlessness, keeping 
 even pace with the one ridden by the girl. She glanced 
 aside uneasily. 
 
 "There is something wrong?" she asked, troubled 
 by his silence. 
 
 " No, nothing stirring. I circled the bunkhouse be- 
 fore leaving; the whole outfit is still asleep. I was 
 just getting directions fixed in my mind. We are going 
 a route I haven't traveled lately." 
 
 11 But the Nogales trail is not difficult to follow." 
 
 " That is exactly what is wrong with it," he explained, 
 his face now turned forward. " It is so easily followed, 
 we could never get far enough ahead of pursuit to be 
 
 (88) 
 
THE ROAD TO SILVER SPRINGS 
 
 safe. They will jump to the conclusion that you have 
 gone this way, of course. I am hoping they will believe 
 you have gone alone." 
 
 11 Do they know you were at the ranch? " 
 "Yes, unfortunately; but my disappearance during 
 the night will not necessarily make them conclude we 
 have disappeared together. ,, He laughed. " I haven't 
 a reputation for remaining very long in any one place, 
 so my going will create no particular suspicion. Then 
 I've covered things the best I could. I came out through 
 a ravine to the north, and circled back to this trail, 
 and from here on not much trace will be left — the 
 way that wind is blowing it would take an Apache to 
 follow us after two hours. That is what I'm counting 
 on now — to leave those fellows guessing. They'll 
 be sure you've gone this way — because it's the only 
 trail you knew anything about — but they won't have 
 the ghost of an idea what has become of me. That is 
 exactly what I'm aiming to do — get the bunch riding 
 this trail, thinking you're going it blind, and that all 
 they've got to do in order to catch you is to ride hard 
 enough. Then they won't stop to read ' Sign ' — see ? " 
 He chuckled at the picture, and rested one hand lightly 
 on her saddle pommel. " I've done a bit of hiding out 
 before, and reckon I know the game." 
 
 " But — but I do not," she ventured doubtfully. " It 
 (89) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 seems to me we are doing exactly what they expect us 
 to do." 
 
 "Sure; I'm counting on two hours and a half, or 
 maybe three hours of darkness yet. An hour will bring 
 us to Silver Springs. That doesn't mean a thing to 
 you, does it?" 
 
 11 No, only I think I remember the place." 
 
 "And it won't to those guys, either, unless Bob 
 Meager is able to be along with them. The gang he 
 has is new to these parts; most of them come from 
 over the border. Well, Silver Springs is where we 
 take a side trip, the sort not many know about. Two 
 hours' ride from there the whole United States couldn't 
 find where you was hid away." 
 
 "How did you know?" she questioned suspiciously. 
 
 " Oh, it's part of my trade to learn the country I'm 
 working in." 
 
 "Your trade?" 
 
 " Sure ; you never supposed I was here for my health, 
 did you? I've got a trade all right, and perhaps I'll 
 tell you about it sometime. It's enough now for me to 
 say that it has taught me as much about this desert as 
 any Indian ever knew. I've rode it alone, east, west, 
 north, and south, and one of the strange places I stum- 
 bled into — by good luck, not more than two days 
 ago — was this Devil's Gulch I'm heading for now. 
 
 (90) 
 
THE ROAD TO SILVER SPRINGS 
 
 If we get there by daylight we'll have this game 
 blocked." 
 
 "You believe no one else knows the place?" 
 
 "Sure, someone does, but not this outfit. I doubt 
 if old Tom Meager ever knew of it, but I have some 
 reason to believe Bob may. It has been used before 
 by white men, and cattle have been herded there. I 
 saw enough to find that out, but none of the 'Sign' 
 was recent. It has been a thieves' den in its day, no 
 doubt, if the story was known." 
 
 "A thieves' den?" 
 
 "Likely — yes. You do not know this country ver/ 
 well, Miss Deborah, but it has been the headquarters 
 for cattle rustlers and smugglers for years, centuries 
 for all I know. In some respects it is as bad today as 
 it ever was. Mexico is just over yonder," and he made 
 an expressive gesture with one hand, " and this desert 
 stretches along both sides the line ; on every side moun- 
 tains and wild country. There's nothing here to 
 civilize, and the only law is represented by a few 
 scattered soldier patrols. The Meager ranch is the 
 only oasis in a hundred miles. I don't know how the 
 place was ever found, but I'll bet it was held by the 
 rifle." 
 
 " It was," she said eagerly. " Old Tom told me the 
 story. He came in here a young man, prospecting, and 
 
 (91) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 discovered these hundreds of acres, with water, grass, 
 everything, even a considerable bunch of wild cattle. 
 There was no one in the country then, and the cattle 
 were not even worth stealing. He lived here alone 
 for years, found gold somewhere, and got enough to 
 develop this property. At first he did not know whether 
 he was in Mexico or the United States, but at last 
 secured title to the land, brought men in to help, and 
 began to raise and ship stock. The Indians never 
 troubled him much, but rustlers did, both Yank and 
 Mexican. They had a regular trail through those hills 
 to the east. It is used yet occasionally; I rode out 
 there with Tom Meager once, and it is like a road " 
 
 " Yes, I've seen it," Kelleen interrupted, " running 
 through Glorietta Canyon. There's another trail also 
 down Box Creek." 
 
 "Thousands upon thousands of stolen cattle were 
 driven along there north and south, and oftentimes they 
 tried to pick up some of the Meager stock in passing. 
 For years they were fighting almost all the time. Then 
 soldiers came and patroled the border, and broke the 
 trade up very largely." 
 
 "But not altogether?" 
 
 "No; there is still some cattle stealing, of course, 
 but most of those fellows find it more profitable now to 
 run arms, ammunition, and supplies across into Mexico. 
 
 (92) 
 
THE ROAD TO SILVER SPRINGS 
 
 There is a lot of that being done, I am told, but the 
 men engaged do not bother the ranch much. Occa- 
 sionally they kill a steer for meat, but it doesn't pay to 
 run them off." 
 
 "You have a pretty clear idea of the situation, young 
 lady!" the man said quietly. "There is just as much 
 deviltry here as there ever was, but it has taken a new 
 form. And another change is impending, unless I mis- 
 interpret the signs. Tom Meager ran this ranch 
 straight and fought for his rights like a man. Every- 
 body along the border knew that, and respected the old 
 man. But this cub of his is another proposition. The 
 whole border brood contains nothing worse than Bob 
 Meager. He is low-down mean, and has been a thief, 
 and an associate of thieves, all his life. It doesn't make 
 any difference how I know all this — I do know it." 
 There was a bitterness to Kelleen's voice which startled 
 the girl. 
 
 "You hate him?" 
 
 He laughed lightly. 
 
 " Oh, no ; I cannot afford to do that, but you have 
 got me started, and I might as well finish up. I reckon 
 you know the fellow fairly well yourself. I get him 
 from another angle. It is not clear in my mind yet 
 exactly how he got possession of this property. Of 
 course, I know he is old Tom's son, and the natural 
 
 (93) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 heir, but I met the father once or twice, and cannot 
 believe he ever put the ranch unreservedly into Bob's 
 hands, giving his widow nothing. I'd like to see that 
 will, for I'll bet all I'm worth it's phony." 
 
 "He — he inherited by will, then? I never heard 
 how he gained possession. He just came and took 
 charge. Mrs. Meager was not even able to get away 
 to consult a lawyer — if she had the courage." 
 
 "That is his claim. I heard about it in Nogales. 
 Garrity drew the will, as I understand, and still holds 
 it. The instrument is duly recorded, but the original 
 remains safely in possession of the judge." 
 
 "Is that regular?" 
 
 " Perhaps so ; not being a lawyer, I can only guess 
 at the regularity. Of course it will have to be produced 
 in court for final settlement of the estate; but I don't 
 think they anticipate any serious questioning as to the 
 validity of the document." 
 
 She stared aside at her companion through the dark- 
 ness, suddenly surprised by the change in his language. 
 The man quickly noticed her movement, and chuckled 
 good-humoredly. 
 
 "Forgot myself, didn't I?" he asked carelessly, 
 " and dropped back into real English. Made you want 
 to question a bit? All right; go ahead." 
 
 "It — it is no business of mine," she faltered doubt- 
 
 (94) 
 
THE ROAD TO SILVER SPRINGS 
 
 fully, " but I had to wonder. I had not expected any- 
 thing like that." 
 
 "Of a mere desert tramp, you mean. Well, all 
 sorts of driftwood come to these shores. I make no 
 claim, except to a reasonably good education. Just 
 now it is of small value, however pleasant to possess. 
 But let that slide; we were discussing Bob Meager, 
 and not myself. The will will be probated without 
 trouble, I reckon, as I have heard of no contest." 
 
 " Could it be contested?" 
 
 " The widow could claim her dower rights." 
 
 11 But Mrs. Meager would not dare. She is helpless, 
 and cannot even leave the ranch." 
 
 " So I gathered from others. There are no friends, 
 then, to take her part?" 
 
 "Absolutely none. I doubt if sne knows a soul in 
 this country; she is an invalid, and in deadly fear of 
 her stepson." 
 
 "And you have heard of no other will? " 
 
 " Not a word. Mr. Meager's death was very sud- 
 den, an accident. His wife's sickness prevented his 
 confiding business matters to her, but I am sure she was 
 very dear to him, and he would never have left her to 
 suffer. He was a splendid man." 
 
 "I thought so myself. He was found dead on the 
 trail, I heard?" 
 
 (95) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 "Yes, his horse came home without him. There 
 was an inquest, the evidence going to show that his 
 horse stumbled and threw him ; his head struck a rock, 
 and was badly crushed." 
 
 "A skilled horseman, was he not? " 
 
 " Yes; but he might have been thrown, if the horse 
 fell." 
 
 " Of course. May I ask if you saw the wound? " 
 
 "Yes; there was no doctor, so they made use of me. 
 He was dead then; had been for some hours. The 
 skull was crushed in, a jagged wound which might have 
 been made by a sharp rock. I suspected nothing else 
 at the time." 
 
 "Naturally not, and since then?" 
 
 "Nothing I can put in words," she confessed hesi- 
 tatingly, " without a more careful examination." 
 
 " You testified at the inquest? " 
 
 " No ; I was not called. A doctor was brought out 
 from Nogales." 
 
 "Then probably you never saw the man who con- 
 ducted that inquest." 
 
 "No; I remained with Mrs. Meager in her room. 
 She was very much broken down. Who was he ? " 
 
 "Judge Cornelius Garrity, who thus manages to 
 become the central figure in the whole tragedy. This 
 interested me from the first, and more than ever now 
 
 (96) 
 
THE ROAD TO SILVER SPRINGS 
 
 that I have met you. You see, I know Garrity, and 
 there is not a wickeder old devil in Arizona. He never 
 did a straight thing in his life." 
 
 "You — you mean there has been fraud? a forged 
 will?" 
 
 "I am prepared to suspect almost anything with 
 Bob Meager and Garrity as bed-mates," he asserted 
 gravely. " They are capable. Bob is simply a brainless 
 brute, but the other is another type, far more dan- 
 gerous. Garrity has been a lawyer, a saloon-keeper, 
 a gambler, and is now a justice of the peace. It is com- 
 mon talk that not a gun or cartridge crosses the border 
 but what he gets something out of it." 
 
 11 Why do you tell me all this ? " 
 
 " Tis odd, isn't it, the way I've got talking tonight," 
 he admitted in surprise. " Usually I don't talk much, 
 especially with strangers. The truth is, I suspect, I 
 rather like you, and then we've got to be together for 
 awhile. Somehow it seems natural to tell you these 
 things. My notion is this, that Garrity fixed this whole 
 matter up for a purpose. Maybe circumstances helped 
 it along, and maybe they didn't. I ain't so sure myself 
 that old Tom Meager died a natural death. Anyhow, 
 everything was ready — the only known will locked in 
 Garrity's safe, and Bob close enough at hand to take 
 possession almost before his father's body was cold. 
 
 (97) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 By the time the funeral was over he had discharged half 
 the old men on the ranch, and brought in Mexicans to 
 take their places. Since then all the old hands have 
 gone — what does that mean?" 
 
 " I am sure I do not know." 
 
 " Well, I can guess, from my acquaintance with Bob 
 and Garrity, and their associates. These fellows im- 
 ported are no Mexican cowboys. That Juan Sanchez 
 has a price on his head; the Indian, Pedro, is known 
 as a cattle thief, and I doubt if there is a greaser in 
 the bunch who hasn't a record somewhere below the 
 line. I tell you, those birds have something up their 
 sleeve beside cattle-raising; that's only a bluff. It is 
 either gun-running, or whisky, or both. I heard whis- 
 pers in Nogales " 
 
 "That was what brought you up here?" 
 
 "Well, no; only incidentally. But, good Lord, I 
 never talked so much in my life before. What is that 
 ahead? A pile of stones? Then we are at Silver 
 Springs, and business is about to begin." 
 
 (98) 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 COVERING THE TRAIL 
 
 DEBORAH could perceive nothing, except the 
 dimly visible heap of stones which Kelleen pointed 
 out. All around stretched the black void of the desert, 
 silent and full of mystery. The distant stars yielded 
 a dim, spectral light, yet there was nothing the eye 
 could rest upon amid the dead level of surrounding sand. 
 The wind blew steadily, occasionally stinging her face 
 with grit, and not a sound reached her ears. The silent 
 loneliness closed about them like the walls of a room. 
 The girl had remained almost unconscious of this in- 
 tense barrenness as they had talked together, but now 
 suddenly awakened to a sense of the desolate surround- 
 ings. She was alone with this man, fleeing for her 
 life into unknown danger. However this realization 
 shocked her, their arrival at the spot sought for only 
 served to arouse her male companion to more energetic 
 action. Whatever spirit had animated him during that 
 hour's pleasant ride was as quickly forgotten, and the 
 instinct of the plainsman instantly became dominant. 
 As the horses came to a stop, he turned in the saddle, 
 
 (99) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 peering back through the veil of darkness toward the 
 Meager ranch. 
 
 " Everything seems all right so far," he commented 
 quietly. " They are still drunk and asleep back there, 
 I reckon. Now we've got to throw them off the 
 trail." 
 
 "You are sure they will follow us?" 
 
 11 Sure ; there is nothing else to be expected. If Bob 
 is killed there will be no doubt in their minds as to who 
 did it, for the body will be in your room. Garrity will 
 have every reason to run you down. So will Meager 
 if he still lives. They don't dare to let you escape." 
 
 "But surely those men cannot fear me?" 
 
 "Nevertheless they will. Those birds are up to 
 crime of some kind, and will suspect you know some- 
 thing. They do not want a word to leak out as to what 
 is going on here." 
 
 " They will miss you also ; someone must have known 
 you were there." 
 
 " Of course ; but they will not suspect me of any con- 
 nivance with your escape. I cannot explain now, but 
 those fellows consider me all right. I come and go 
 as I please, and my absence will mean nothing to them. 
 Garrity will believe you became desperate enough to 
 try and get away alone. That is why they will start 
 on this trail first of all, but they will have to follow 
 
 (100) 
 
COVERING THE TRAIL 
 
 blind — at least I am aiming to leave very little for 
 them to follow, beyond here." 
 
 He grasped her bridle rein, the two horses moving 
 forward at a walk, circling to the left of the stone 
 marker. Even in that dim starlight Deborah felt con- 
 vinced they were still following the Nogales trail, which 
 was rutted with wheel tracks. A hundred feet beyond, 
 the faint sound of the horses' hoofs gave evidence that 
 they passed along a narrow ridge of rock. Suddenly 
 Kelleen came to a pause, leaning forward in the saddle 
 to see more clearly. 
 
 "You have no memory of how things are here?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "No; only that the springs are over to the left 
 yonder." 
 
 "Then listen; there is an outer opening of rock 
 which swerves here to the right, and runs almost di- 
 rectly east for two hundred yards. It is not wide, but 
 I am sure you can trace it in the starlight — see; it runs 
 there." 
 
 She looked eagerly where he pointed, and could 
 dimly perceive the lighter surface outlined against the 
 sand. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Follow that alone carefully; go just as far as pos- 
 sible, and then wait there for me. There is no danger, 
 
 (101) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 so you keep close to the rocks. Keep to the center 
 so the horse will leave no imprint." 
 
 "And what are you going to do?" 
 
 " Ride straight ahead down the trail; then circle back 
 through a gully, and meet you out yonder. Don't be 
 afraid; just wait. I'll come, although it may require 
 half an hour or more for me to make the trip safely; 
 I've got to cover every trace after I once strike out 
 into the desert." 
 
 She watched him ride away, vanishing quickly into 
 the gloom, his horse's hoofs making no sound in the 
 soft sand. Instantly she began urging her own mount 
 along the narrow rock ridge, experiencing no difficulty, 
 however, as the intelligent animal picked his path care- 
 fully, very much as though he had traveled that same 
 route before. Growing confident, Deborah loosened 
 her grip on the rein, permitting the horse cautiously to 
 select his own way, watchful only that he did not stray 
 from the narrow path of rock. Where this very plainly 
 ended she drew the animal to a halt, and sat upright 
 in the saddle, staring wonderingly about into the silent 
 desolation. There was nothing either to see or hear; 
 darkness shut down all about her, but for the soft glow 
 of those wonderful stars overhead, dimly outlining the 
 arc of the sky. This was not a dense, impenetrable 
 darkness, but rather as though one peered into heavy 
 
 (102) 
 
COVERING THE TRAIL 
 
 mist, through which near-by objects might be dimly 
 perceived. But there were no objects visible — only 
 a dead, motionless level of sand, across which the wind 
 swept unchecked and noiseless, bearing with it the sand 
 spray to lash her face as with so many sharp needles. 
 
 How unutterably barren and desolate it all was; 
 even the points of compass were blotted out; she was 
 alone and lost, except for that rock ridge along which 
 they had found passage. In the somber silence her 
 mind traveled back over all that had happened that 
 night. She had no time before for thought; she had 
 been continuously forced onward by circumstances be- 
 yond control, driven blindly. But now everything which 
 had occurred so swiftly during those past few hours 
 swept over her in memory like a flood. She had enjoyed 
 no time, no opportunity for any choice; had simply 
 been compelled to accept whatever came. What had 
 this led her into? What was the end now before her? 
 It all seemed more a horrible dream than any reality 
 of life. It was beyond belief , beyond experience ; that 
 such things were even possible seemed utterly beyond 
 reason. 
 
 Yet memory would not die, or be deceived. The 
 very loneliness in which she sat, bowing helplessly be- 
 fore the sand storm, waiting, drove the whole truth 
 home to her consciousness. It was true — all of it was 
 
 (103) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 true. The death of old Tom Meager; the return of 
 the renegade son; his brutal assumption of control; 
 the glow of lust in his eyes at their first meeting; and 
 then — then the happenings of this last night. Had 
 she done right? She dare not even attempt to answer 
 the question. She did not know; yet even then saw 
 no other course she might have chosen. Indeed, she 
 had been given no choice ; fate had relentlessly thrust 
 everything upon her. From the first threat uttered 
 by Bob Meager to this very moment she had been but 
 a chip tossed helplessly on the stream of events. And 
 now — now she was there waiting, amid all this deso- 
 lation, for the return of a strange man, whose face 
 she never had seen. The whole situation seemed im- 
 possible, yet she could not doubt its actual reality. 
 She was not dreaming; she was wide awake. 
 
 Yet as she reviewed all the events leading up to this 
 situation the girl could not perceive where she might 
 have done otherwise. The impossibility of leaving 
 the ranch unaided; the openly avowed purpose of Bob 
 Meager; the forced marriage; the drunken assault; 
 the blind effort at escape, believing she had killed the 
 man in self-defense ; and the unexpected meeting with 
 Kelleen — all these had been utterly beyond her con- 
 trol. Even after that scarcely a choice had been left 
 her. The man had to be accepted as a friend, or else 
 
 (104) 
 
COVERING THE TRAIL 
 
 left behind as an enemy. He was in position to either 
 serve or betray her, as he chose, and there was that 
 about his personality which had won her faith. What 
 it was she hardly knew, nor did she have the slightest 
 conception still who the man actually was. His evi- 
 dent dislike of Meager and Garrity meant nothing, 
 except perhaps as thus explaining his willingness to 
 befriend her against them. Even thieves fall out, and 
 she could not conceive this fellow as anything but an 
 outlaw. His very presence at the ranch presupposed 
 this, while his attempt at concealment made it even 
 more probable. Kelleen knew altogether too much 
 to be entirely innocent; indeed had confessed enough 
 already to cause Deborah to believe him a border out- 
 cast, involved in the same criminal scheme as these 
 others with whom he evidently associated. He had 
 never idly drifted to the Meager ranch, but had come 
 there with definite purpose, seeking refuge, if nothing 
 else. 
 
 However, in spite of this knowledge, the girl 
 strangely felt a measure of confidence in the man. She 
 had seen him as only a dark, ill-defined shape in the 
 night. She had gained no glimpse of his features, but 
 she liked his voice, the genial yet respectful way in 
 which he addressed her, the cool assurance with which 
 he had taken complete control; whatever the fellow's 
 
 (105) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 past might have been, she felt confidence in him, be- 
 lieved firmly that he was really endeavoring honestly 
 to serve her in this emergency. What his secret pur- 
 pose might be mattered little, although her impression 
 was that it arose from a desire to revenge himself on 
 Meager, rather than any deep interest he personally 
 felt toward herself. Yet as she sat there waiting, her 
 eyes anxiously searching the black shadows, she was 
 aware of the rapid beating of her heart in eager desire 
 for his return. 
 
 It seemed a long while, so long as to almost frighten 
 her, before she became aware of his approach. Indeed, 
 he was actually beside her on foot before she recog- 
 nized his presence, approaching silently from the oppo- 
 site direction from that anticipated. Her startled gaze 
 had scarcely distinguished his dim outline, when he 
 spoke, his hand already grasping her horse's rein. 
 
 " There, that is over with," he said genially. " Now 
 I'll lead you for the next five hundred yards. After 
 that we'll do some real riding." 
 
 Where their course led she could not clearly deter- 
 mine from the saddle, but they moved forward slowly. 
 Kelleen spoke soothingly to the horse, the animal fol- 
 lowing the man's guidance, seemingly along a very 
 narrow ridge of outcropping rock, barely wide enough 
 to permit his hoofs to cling to its exposed surface. This 
 
 (106) 
 
COVERING THE TRAIL 
 
 passage led downward very gradually, until Deborah 
 realized that they were slightly below the surface of the 
 desert itself, with walls of sand rising on either side. 
 After some hundred yards had been traversed, the path 
 led upward once again, the horse's hoofs now sinking 
 into deep sand. Then a horse whinnied just in front 
 of them, and the next instant she could make out the 
 darker shadow. Kelleen released his grip, with a little 
 laugh of relief. 
 
 11 Lonely, old fellow ? Well, I won't leave you again. 
 Now we've got a straightaway ride for it, Miss 
 Meredith." 
 
 "You were hiding the trail?" 
 
 "Yes; one cannot be too careful in these things. 
 Those fellows will head on down Nogales way, while 
 these rock ridges will leave no trace." 
 
 "Evidently you have used them before for a similar 
 purpose?" 
 
 "I'll say I have," carelessly. "And what is more 
 this is a secret which I prefer keeping to myself. Now 
 I'll lead off, and you follow. You'll have to keep up 
 pretty close to see me in the dark, and there will be no 
 noise to guide you in this sand." 
 
 "But — if I should lose you?" she asked, staring 
 about, half frightened by the thought. 
 
 "No danger; the horse you're on won't get lost. 
 (107) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 But if you miss me call out; there's no one to hear in 
 this desert. Ready now?" 
 
 He swung into the saddle, and faced her waiting. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then we'll ride fast, and don't be afraid ; it's level 
 as a floor." 
 
 (108) 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 MUTUAL RECOGNITION 
 
 THE girl rode low in the saddle, her head bent 
 forward to protect her eyes from the shower of 
 grit hurled against her by the ceaseless wind. Confident 
 of the sagacity of her horse, she no longer endeavored 
 to keep even the vague outline of Kelleen in view. They 
 had been riding hard for more than an hour, appar- 
 ently, and, as near as she could determine from the 
 stars, in a straight line across the dead level of the 
 desert. The man evidently knew his course perfectly, 
 and was heading direct for some refuge, pushing 
 forward recklessly in an effort to reach the chosen spot 
 before daybreak. Deborah was conscious now of her 
 extreme weariness; she could only cling grimly to her 
 seat, aching in every muscle, blindly following his lead. 
 She knew the horse under her was panting for breath, 
 his sides wet with sweat, but Kelleen never once drew 
 rein, or, to her knowledge, even glanced back to assure 
 himself of her presence. From the little glimpses she 
 occasionally gained of him, he apparently sat straight 
 in the saddle, tireless and alert. There were moments 
 when she felt she must actually cry out, her nerves fail- 
 OOP) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 ing her, but she crushed the desire back, and rode on, 
 dulled with fatigue, becoming finally scarcely conscious 
 of her surroundings. 
 
 Then Deborah became aware that .the sky before 
 them was growing lighter; she could see the man and 
 horse more distinctly, and even distinguish a narrow 
 vista of the encircling sand plain. The stars overhead 
 began to pale, while a sickly gray overspread the hori- 
 zon. It was the coming of the dawn, and the girl 
 straightened up in the saddle, aroused to a new interest, 
 and forgetful of her intense weariness, as her heavy 
 eyes endeavored to view the desert scene. The faint 
 light rendered everything excessively lonely, with no 
 outstanding landmark visible, only the changeless 
 monotony of sand, lying almost level, except where the 
 wind had swept it into low ridges, and stretching in 
 every direction. It was all gray both above and below, 
 the sky and earth blending in one gloomy picture of 
 desolation. The only spot of relieving color appeared 
 vaguely as she gazed about, far off there to the right, a 
 shapeless purple haze, which she slowly comprehended 
 must be the distant mesa from which she had fled — the 
 isolated Meager ranch. All else was barren, colorless, 
 lifeless, a drear, and, apparently, endless desert, before 
 which her heart quailed. Never before had it seemed 
 to her so cruelly heartless. 
 
 (110) 
 
MUTUAL RECOGNITION 
 
 Her eyes and thought centered on the figure of the 
 man riding steadily in front. He never turned in the 
 saddle, or glanced about, but was evidently searching 
 that dull vista in their front, seeking some sign of guid- 
 ance through the dim light. She could obtain no glimpse 
 of his face, not even its contour, yet how straight he sat 
 in the saddle, his shoulders thrown back, his left hand 
 grasping the rein lightly. His seat was that of the 
 trained, disciplined cavalryman, rather than the cowboy, 
 and she could but mark how easily his body followed 
 the slightest movement of the animal under him. He 
 was tall, erect, strong, young, no doubt of that, the hair 
 showing below his wide hat brim, a dark russet brown. 
 Suddenly, but without glancing back he pointed into the 
 grim, gray desert ahead. 
 
 "Do you see anything over yonder?" he asked. 
 "Just ahead there — a hundred yards?" 
 
 She stared where he pointed, both halting their 
 horses, but could perceive nothing except the same drear 
 expanse of sand. 
 
 "No; what is it?" 
 
 " One of nature's marvels ; the place I'm heading for. 
 You can be within ten yards and never know it is there." 
 He turned and faced her smilingly. " Made it straight 
 through the night, too. Why, what's the matter?" 
 
 She was staring at him through the dim light, 
 (111) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 her lips parted, her eyes expressive of fear. For 
 the moment she did not speak, and he asked again 
 anxiously. 
 
 14 What is it ? Are you afraid ofme?" 
 
 "I — I know now who you are," she managed to say. 
 "You— you are the 'Frisco Kid.'" 
 
 A moment his lips shut tight, a bit grimly; then he 
 laughed. 
 
 u Oh, is that the trouble? How do you know I am 
 * Frisco?' and, if I am, what possible difference does it 
 make?" 
 
 " But you are, are you not?" 
 
 " Sure ; but how did you guess ? " 
 
 " I didn't guess; I saw you before, and knew you as 
 soon as you turned, with the light on your face." 
 
 "If you had recognized me last night, you'd never 
 have been here, I reckon?" 
 
 " No — no ; I couldn't have come — with you. Yet I 
 ought to have suspected all the time. I saw you ride in 
 last night with Judge Garrity. I had a good view of 
 your face from my window, and heard Bob Meager call 
 you by name." 
 
 "No doubt that's all true enough, but what of it? 
 Outside of my riding in with Garrity what can you know 
 about the 'Frisco Kid?' I never pretended to be an 
 angel when you first took up with me, but I don't per- 
 
 (112) 
 
MUTUAL RECOGNITION 
 
 ceive any reason why that name should scare you half 
 to death. Ever heard of me before?" 
 
 She hesitated, but only for an instant. It was her 
 nature to speak truth. 
 
 " Yes, I have," she answered steadily, looking straight 
 at him, yet in some mysterious way not the least afraid. 
 " I have been led to believe you a most desperate char- 
 acter, an outlaw, a criminal, with a price on your head. 
 I have been told many of your exploits — and, and; 
 but why compel me to repeat all this?" 
 
 "Because it is extremely interesting, for one thing; 
 quite flattering for even a better reason. If we are 
 going to continue being friends — and I insist that we 
 are — we shall have to come to a mutual understanding. 
 What am I in your estimation? A robber and thief, I 
 suppose?" 
 
 "Yes, everything which goes with a border des« 
 perado." 
 
 " Even murder hinted at? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And who told you all this rot — Bob Meager?" 
 
 "Oh, no; I heard all about you before he ever came 
 back. That was months ago; there were soldiers 
 through here searching for you, a major and twenty 
 cavalrymen." 
 
 "What major?" 
 
 (113) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " His name was Reynolds." 
 
 Kelleen chuckled, and leaned suddenly forward, 
 placing his hand squarely on hers where it rested on the 
 saddle pommel. Somehow she made no effort to with- 
 draw her fingers from the contact, and their eyes met. 
 
 " ' Pop ' Reynolds, hey ! " he said lightly. " Then I 
 am sure his story must have been a good one. So he 
 told you I was a mighty bad man? Well, now youVe 
 met me, do you believe it?" 
 
 "I — I don't know," she confessed doubtfully. "I — 
 I would rather not think that." 
 
 " Which is a hopeful sign. Well, please try not to 
 think so for the next half-hour, at least. Then maybe, 
 I can tell you my side of the story. There is no time 
 now, for weVe simply got to get under cover. Do you 
 see that blue ridge over yonder ? You know what it is ? " 
 
 "The Meager ranch, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes, and in twenty minutes, as soon as the mist 
 rises, they could pick us out from there with a good 
 field glass. We'll have to find a safer place to talk in 
 than this. How is it — gone plumb back on me?" 
 
 She managed to smile. 
 
 " No; somehow you won't let me do that." 
 
 " Good; then let's finish up this little job. Here, I'll 
 lead the horses ; it's only a step to the rim ; then we'll 
 both have to make the descent afoot." 
 
 (114) 
 
MUTUAL RECOGNITION 
 
 They moved forward slowly, into what appeared to 
 be the interminable desert, the man plowing his way 
 through sand, the tired animals following with drooping 
 heads. Deborah could perceive no difference in the 
 drear landscape, although her heart beat fast in antici- 
 pation. The sudden identification of her companion 
 had given a new, strange turn to the adventure, but she 
 had gone so far already any retreat now was manifestly 
 impossible. Her mind was confused, yet this much, at 
 least, remained clear — she was in his power, and must 
 trust his word. Oddly it was not hard to do ; deep in 
 her heart she liked the man. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped, gripping the reins tightly, and 
 pointing with his other hand. Deborah needed no 
 guidance, for her eyes were already riveted on the 
 yawning gash in the surface of the desert, staring down 
 with a startled feeling of awe into the apparently bot- 
 tomless chasm not five yards away. A moment she 
 gazed, hardly comprehending, too thoroughly dazed by 
 this phenomena of nature to completely grasp its 
 significance. Then she felt Kelleen lift her bodily from 
 the saddle, and lead her forward to the very edge. 
 Below lay exposed in the cold gray of the dawn the full 
 marvel — a deep gorge, as though scooped out by a 
 giant spoon, cut directly across the barren sand plain, 
 with no evidence anywhere above of its existence. To 
 
 (US) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 the eye it seemed some three hundred feet wide, but 
 much deeper, the side walls rocky and irregular, the 
 crevices and ravines choked with sand, while far below 
 appeared the soft green of vegetation, and along the 
 base of the opposite wall, much more precipitous than 
 the side on which they stood, the silvery sparkle of a 
 small stream. It was gloom still down there, a shadowy 
 picture viewed through a mist, rendered even more won. 
 derful by its alluring dimness. To their right the walls 
 curved sharply, leaving in mystery what might lie 
 beyond. Deborah drew a quick breath, glancing aside 
 into the face of the man at her side. 
 
 "This is what you meant — the Devil's Gulch?'* 
 
 " Yes ; but the name is my own. Did you ever before 
 see such a wonder?" 
 
 11 Yet it is beautiful down there. How can anything 
 like that be possible, here in the heart of all this sand 
 waste? I — I cannot understand." 
 
 "Nor anyone else. Nature keeps her own secrets, 
 although doubtless some hidden spring is the explana- 
 tion in this case; ages of water flow have wrought the 
 miracle. But what worries me most is, have others 
 beside myself discovered the existence of this oasis. I 
 found it purely by accident, almost fell into it in fact, 
 while riding before a dust storm." 
 
 "You have been down there?" 
 (116) 
 
MUTUAL RECOGNITION 
 
 "Yes; the descent is not particularly difficult along 
 those ravines; the sand gives purchase, even the horses 
 will pick their way." 
 
 He smiled at the consternation in her face. 
 
 "What is it?" he questioned, " f ear of the passage, 
 or of the 'Frisco Kid?'" 
 
 She looked straight at him beneath leveled brows, 
 conscious of the sudden flush in her cheeks. 
 
 "Neither; I am not afraid." 
 
 11 1 did not believe you would be, for you are not that 
 sort at all. The truth is, young lady, you really haven't 
 so much on me in this matter of recognition. I happen 
 to know quite a bit about you." 
 
 "Aboutme? You? What, may I ask?" 
 
 "Just a bit, as I say, a mere picture not easily for- 
 gotten. I saw you once, before ever you came to 
 Meager' s ranch, and I have remembered it ever since. 
 When daylight came that memory haunted me again, 
 but now I've got it all figured out. You do not under- 
 stand?" 
 
 "Certainly not; I have never seen you until last 
 night." 
 
 "Very true, which was my misfortune. Do you 
 remember a morning in August, 191 8, when the Thirty- 
 third Division went over the top, waded a river, and 
 cleaned out the heights beyond? It was a sharp fight, 
 
 (117) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 and lots of the boys never came back. You remember, 
 don't you ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, I was there, and I got mine about eight 
 o'clock. Mine must have been plenty, for they hauled 
 me back to the first-line hospital, and had some sort of 
 surgical job done, before I ever woke up. Then I was 
 lying there in the shade of a crumpled wall, along with 
 a lot of other fellows, waiting for the ambulance to pick 
 us up. You remember that too, don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes," the tears dimming her eyes. " They were so 
 brave and still." 
 
 "Well, at first I didn't know very much. The man 
 next to me died, and the nurse who was with him — she 
 was heavily built with very light hair " 
 
 "Jessie Seevers." 
 
 " I don't know, but she gave me a drink of water, 
 and then they put another wounded guy into the place 
 where the dead body had been. He was just a kid, not 
 more than seventeen, I reckon, and was crying like a 
 baby, his nerves all shot to pieces. You were his nurse, 
 and I lay there and watched how you fixed him up. It's 
 not likely you've forgot that." 
 
 " No ! No ! " she bent her head. " He was from my 
 town; he — he died that night." 
 
 "I didn't know, for they took me away, but I lay 
 (118) 
 
MUTUAL RECOGNITION 
 
 there and watched you for another hour before the 
 stretchers came. I never saw you again. I would have 
 liked to mighty well, and I won't say I didn't try, but, 
 you see, I didn't even know your name then — just a 
 memory of your face." 
 
 He reached out his hand suddenly. 
 
 "I — I wish you'd shake hands with me," he said, 
 almost hesitating at his boldness, " and sorter pretend 
 to forget that ' Frisco Kid' business." 
 
 "I have forgotten it," she answered steadily, their 
 eyes and hands meeting. "You were a soldier in my 
 division; I believe in you, and am your friend." 
 
 (119) 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 M 
 
 THIS strange recognition that their lives had pre- 
 viously met, brought to both immediately a 
 greater degree of confidence and faith. To Deborah, 
 Kelleen was no longer a bandit, a fleeing fugitive from 
 justice, but a soldier who had been wounded in battle, 
 who had played the part of a man; while to him the girl 
 was no longer a stray runaway in whom he felt little in- 
 terest, but a nurse whose face had haunted his memory 
 since he had first watched her in the glow of the French 
 sun. They stood there on the rim of that strange crater, 
 the grim, gray desert circling them about, neither able 
 to think of a word to say. Deborah's eyes fell, and she 
 withdrew her hand, turning to stare into the depths 
 below. The slight movement served to arouse Kelleen 
 to the situation. 
 
 " Well, this will never do," he exclaimed, new cheer- 
 fulness in his tone. " They will have a glass trained on 
 us over there before we get to cover. We'll send the 
 horses down first; they'll find the best route and we can 
 follow. Come, Sultan, over you go, old boy; oh, no, 
 you're not afraid; we've done this little trick before. 
 Goon, sir!" 
 
 (120) 
 
STORY OF THE "FRISCO KID 
 
 He struck the animal with the flat of his hand, and, 
 with a reproachful shake of the head, Sultan slowly and 
 cautiously began the steep descent, seeking a path along 
 the deeper layers of sand, and zigzagging from gulch to 
 gulch better to obtain foothold. The other horse fol- 
 lowed, but not without a struggle, trembling with fear, 
 and keeping close to the trail left by the leader. Kelleen 
 touched the girl's arm. 
 
 " Come," he said briefly, a bit of command in the 
 voice. " Really it is not so dangerous as it looks from 
 here. Sultan has found the best trail, and we'll drill 
 along after him." 
 
 He searched the horizon with keen eyes; then 
 shrugged his shoulders rather contentedly. 
 
 "Ugly, isn't it? but for that tinge of red in the east, 
 and that spot of blue yonder, just a barren gray waste. 
 And yet, do you know, the thing somehow gets into your 
 blood, and you learn to like it. I get sick to death of 
 the desert, but I always drift back again; there is fasci- 
 nation about its very loneliness and silence." 
 
 " Yes, I know," she answered slowly. "I — I hated 
 it when I first came; thought I could not bear it for 
 another hour. But now the dread has all gone away; 
 it never seems quite the same any more, sometimes 
 hard and cruel, and again soft and friendly — but ak 
 ways different from anything else in the world." 
 
 (121) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 He laughed bitterly. 
 
 " The charm is that of a rattlesnake you will discover, 
 as treacherous and destructive. I distrust its every 
 mood. The horses are already at the bottom ; let's go." 
 
 They made it slowly, picking their path along the 
 trail left by the two animals, finding purchase in the 
 sand, occasionally steadied by an outcropping rock, or 
 the exposed root of some clinging shurb. The drop 
 was more extensive than Deborah previously had real- 
 ized from above, and the sharp descent left her breath- 
 less. The enclosing walls towering high overhead, 
 revealing merely a narrow strip of blue sky, and the 
 increasing gloom, as they descended lower, brought to 
 her a feeling of awe. Kelleen led the way, occasionally 
 turning about with word of encouragement, or pointing 
 out a better course than the one he had just taken. Yet 
 the passage was neither specially hard, nor dangerous, 
 merely requiring caution and a clear brain. Once she 
 slipped, but he caught her instantly, laughing lightly at 
 the mishap, and the girl felt no sense of fear. 
 
 The sand disappeared as they reached the lower 
 levels, the walls becoming sheer rock, but slashed with 
 gullies, and finally these were more or less choked with 
 vegetable growth. At the bottom, where the two horses 
 were contentedly munching the short grass, the valley 
 had all the appearance of a new land, made fresh and 
 
 (122) 
 
STORY OF THE "FRISCO KID 
 
 verdant by the magic touch of water. There were small 
 groves of trees scattered here and there, interspersed 
 amid patches of greenest verdure, with the glimmer of 
 a flowing stream winding crookedly in the midst. 
 Coupled with those high, gray walls towering on every 
 side, barren and desolate, and the memory of that wide, 
 seemingly boundless stretch of gray desert above, the 
 effect was weird, scarcely comprehensible. Deborah at 
 the foot of the long descent, clung to the projecting root 
 of a tree, and stared about her with wide-open eyes, 
 unable to restrain her amazement 
 
 " Why this is simply marvelous, " she exclaimed. " I 
 did not appreciate what it meant from up there. You 
 have been down here before, you said?" 
 
 "Yes," he answered soberly. "Once, but with no 
 opportunity to explore thoroughly. I intended to come 
 back, but had no thought I should have a companion." 
 
 " But is this all? just this little narrow hole?" 
 
 11 1 am not sure, but think not. I believe there must 
 be a sharp turn out yonder, and perhaps a natural slope,, 
 or entrance at the farther end. I mean to explore a 
 little later, after we eat breakfast, and you consent to 
 rest awhile. We have the whole day before us, and 
 will not venture forth again until night." 
 
 "You — you do not believe you are the only one 
 who has made this discovery?" 
 
 (123) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " No ; that is hardly probable. There were reasons 
 why it was impossible for me to determine the truth 
 when I was here before, yet I found evidences that 
 others had been before me — the remains of a camp 
 fire, an exploded cartridge shell, and even the imprint of 
 cattle. I have no wish to frighten you, Miss Deborah, 
 but my idea is that probably this place has been, and 
 perhaps is still, a hiding place for thieves." 
 
 " Cattle stealers, you mean? " 
 
 " Yes, and munition runners. This whole border is 
 honey-combed with that sort of thing, and this hole is 
 certainly an ideal hide-out. It is not more than a hard 
 night's ride from the border line, and so thoroughly 
 hidden away that I never even suspicioned its existence 
 until I accidentally rode straight into it; and I thought 
 I knew every inch, and secret of this desert country. 
 Come, let's sit down here, and eat what we have, for I 
 am not going to risk a fire, and I'll tell you the theory 
 I've worked out. I may be all wrong, but I'm keen to 
 find out for sure." 
 
 "Please do." 
 
 The bag of food the girl had secured from the ranch 
 kitchen was carefully strapped to the saddle of Sultan. 
 Kelleen procured this and spread the contents on a 
 strip of grass. They were both eating when he resumed 
 speech. 
 
 (124) 
 
STORY OF THE "FRISCO KID 
 
 " I am inclined to think," he said gravely, " that this 
 has been a rendezvous for that sort of traffic for years. 
 I don't believe many have known about it, or else some 
 whispers would have reached me, but this particular 
 section of the border has been a sore spot for years. 
 More stuff has been slipped through along here than in 
 all the rest of the distance between Texas and Cali- 
 fornia. I happen to know this for a fact, and that the 
 government has never yet been able to locate the leak. 
 In my judgment it is right here.' , 
 
 " Here? " her eyes half frightened at his sober asser- 
 tion, staring into the silence. " Why, how could it be ? " 
 
 "Very easily; someone stumbled on this place just 
 exactly as I have — perhaps several somebodies — but 
 my present notion is that the discoverer was either Bob 
 Meager, or one of the disreputable gang he has with 
 him. His determination to get control of the ranch at 
 his father's death, the fellows he has brought there from 
 across the line, and Garrity's deep interest in the affair, 
 all combine to make me suspicious. Do you see? The 
 ranch, and this hole, together, make an ideal outfit for 
 running either cattle or munitions across the border, 
 and some of those fellows over there have been at that 
 job for years." 
 
 "Then how do you dare come here with me?" 
 
 11 Because it alone promised security for this one day. 
 (125) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 Tonight we'll go on, but we could not travel across the 
 desert in daylight without being seen." 
 
 " Nor along a regular trail? " 
 
 " No ; this was the only possible hiding place. I had 
 every reason to believe we would find it unoccupied. It 
 certainly was yesterday, with no fresh signs anywhere. 
 In my judgment those fellows have not begun their new 
 work yet; they are merely getting ready," he laughed. 
 "Besides this is largely mere suspicion after all; per- 
 haps I am altogether wrong." 
 
 Her eyes were on his face inquiringly. 
 
 "You dislike Bob Meager very much?" 
 
 " I am actually afraid I do." 
 
 "Was that why you were so willing to help me?" 
 
 " Not altogether ; it may have had weight, I confess. 
 Now, however, that thought has gone entirely." 
 
 "And Judge Garrity?" 
 
 " He is utterly despicable." 
 
 "Yet you seemed very friendly with him only last 
 night. On excellent terms." 
 
 He smiled good-naturedly. 
 
 "You are quite a cross-examiner, Miss Meredith. 
 Sometimes you know it becomes necessary to play a part 
 in life. What is the cause for all this shrewd ques- 
 tioning?" 
 
 " I hardly know myself, but it is all so strange, and 
 (126) 
 
STORY OF THE "FRISCO KID 
 
 has happened so suddenly. I am just beginning to think 
 clearly. Do you really mind if I ask you something 
 more?" 
 
 " Not in the least. Now that I really know who you 
 are, I am rather inclined to answer most questions 
 frankly." 
 
 "I — I hope you will. How did you happen to serve 
 in the Thirty-third Division — they were all Illinois 
 troops?" 
 
 II So you even noticed that. I was transferred." 
 " From what command? " 
 
 " The regulars." 
 
 "Was that not very unusual? You — you were 
 surely an enlisted man?" 
 
 II I did not say so," he smiled back, " and now that 
 you drive me to a confession, I might as well make a full 
 breast of it. I was transferred to take command of a 
 company." 
 
 "A captain?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Why!" she drew in her breath sharply, leaning 
 forward with new eagerness. "Then surely you are 
 not now what I have thought you to be — an outlaw, a 
 renegade? You are not really the — the * Frisco 
 Kid? 1 " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I am. At least I am all the ' Frisco Kid* 
 (127) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 there ever was to the best of my knowledge, although, 
 I fear I fail to line up entirely with the reputation so 
 kindly given me by * Pop ' Reynolds. I rather regret 
 this, for your sake, yet no one could possibly equal his 
 imagination in real life. The best thing I can do is tell 
 you the truth, isn't it? Very well, I am going to do 
 just that — do you know why?" 
 
 " No — unless because you think I may have guessed 
 it already?" 
 
 " Hardly, for it would be easy still to cause you to 
 believe otherwise. The real reason is because I like 
 you, and desire to retain your faith. The ' Frisco Kid' 
 is an entirely manufactured character, made for a prac- 
 tical purpose. Do you grasp the idea?" 
 
 She shook her head, but her eager eyes belied the 
 action. 
 
 "You have a glimmer, nevertheless. I'll explain. 
 This portion of the border has been a hotbed of out- 
 lawry for years. It has baffled every commanding 
 officer assigned to this district. We had no information 
 to work on ; suspects were numerous, but proof lacking. 
 Finally a plan of action was evolved, but to carry it out 
 successfully, a desperado with an established reputation 
 as a bad man was first of all most essential. With this 
 end in view the * Frisco Kid ' was carefully put on the 
 stage. Newspapers along the coast, and near the 
 
 (128) 
 
STORY OF THE "FRISCO KID 
 
 border, began to note his exploits; dispatches regarding 
 him were sent east; rewards for his capture, dead or 
 alive, were posted. It was intimated, finally, when his 
 name had become sufficiently familiar, that he had 
 escaped into Mexico, and then that he had been seen 
 again in this neighborhood. Troops were dispatched 
 to run him down, and word to that effect scattered 
 broadcast on both sides the line." 
 
 "Major Reynolds?" 
 
 " Yes, he had a squad out, and, evidently, from what 
 you tell me, did a fine bit of advertising on his own 
 account. You see the purpose of it all ? " 
 
 "To win the confidence of the real gang?" 
 
 "Exactly; and it worked. At least we have a far 
 better line on the matter than we had three months ago ; 
 the end is already in sight." 
 
 "But — but you run such a terrible risk?" 
 
 " Oh, there is some danger, of course. The lads will 
 kill, no doubt, but there is no more peril than any soldier 
 must expect to face. It was a duty." 
 
 "But who then are you?" 
 
 " Daniel Kelleen, just as I told you, a captain in the 
 — rd Cavalry." 
 
 "You — you volunteered for this service?" 
 
 "Yes; you see it was impossible for the Department 
 to use any officer who had been stationed lately along 
 
 (129) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 this border. Such a one might be immediately recog- 
 nized, and the whole scheme ruined at once. At the 
 same time, whoever was chosen to play the character 
 must have intimate knowledge of the border. I met 
 the requirements fully, as I had served here tm years 
 ago as a mere boy, and knew the country fairly well. 
 Later I had some experience in rough work farther 
 north. The Department commander selected me for 
 the job, and — well, I didn't refuse the assignment; so 
 here I am, the * Frisco Kid.' " 
 
 Deborah held out her hand impulsively. 
 
 " I'm glad you told me," she said in all frankness. 
 
 <130) 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A NEW VIEWPOINT 
 
 SHE had been sleeping for nearly two hours, with 
 head supported on a saddle, the steep wall of the 
 canyon on one side of her and the valley itself shut 
 completely off by a thick growth of shrub. Deborah 
 had not supposed it possible to lose consciousness when 
 she first consented to lie down, at Kelleen's urgent 
 request. She had not realized how tired she was, and, in 
 fact, rested there some time in this nook he had found, 
 staring with wide-open eyes up at the strip of blue sky, 
 her mind still active. There was almost no noise to 
 disturb her, only the occasional sound of a moving 
 horse grazing not far away, and, by lifting her head 
 slightly, she knew that her companion had also 
 stretched himself out on the grass, across a narrow 
 ravine, and lay there motionless. The knowledge of 
 who this man really was had brought her instant relief, 
 and a new sense of safety in his presence. She no longer 
 felt any personal fear of him, and his words had con- 
 vinced her that the day promised no danger from 
 without. He had even scaled the cliff once more to gain 
 another view across the desert in the bright sun-glare, 
 
 (131) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 and his confidence in their safety left her abundantly 
 satisfied. So finally her heavy eyes closed, and she 
 slept. 
 
 Something must have awakened the girl suddenly, 
 for she sat bolt upright, with eyes wide open in fright. 
 Yet nothing about her appeared wrong, or strange. 
 Kelleen had disappeared, but beyond this no change of 
 any kind was apparent. The sun, now almost directly 
 overhead, was pouring its rays to the very bottom of the 
 chasm, leaving a narrow ribbon of gold through the 
 center, and one of the horses could be seen grazing in 
 the midst of it. The second animal had vanished, but 
 in all probability it had merely strayed farther away 
 beyond the range of her direct vision. The entire scene 
 was so calm and peaceful that Deborah's heart ceased 
 its first violent throbbing, and she even smiled at her 
 earlier fear, and arose expectantly to her feet. 
 
 She had been confused, but the movement brought 
 back full consciousness. The memory of the night 
 returned vividly, but more like a dream than any reality. 
 The course of events appeared so unnatural, so fantas- 
 tic, it was difficult for her to grasp the truth — that she 
 was actually a fugitive, a wife fleeing from her husband, 
 trusting everything, life, reputation, to the mercies of a 
 stranger, and hiding here out in this strange desert 
 excavation waiting only for the darkness of night. No 
 
 ( 132 ) 
 
A NEW VIEWPOINT 
 
 imagination, no dream of fiction, could seem so unreal, 
 and she hid her face in her hands while she struggled 
 to assimilate the truth. But when it finally came, it 
 brought no deep regret. Fate after all had been kind 
 to her ; the man she had been compelled to trust, the man 
 whom she had believed an outlaw, a ruffian of the 
 border, merely befriending her as a passing whim, had 
 proven himself a soldier and a gentleman. With this 
 discovery all her former doubt, her previous ques- 
 tioning, had vanished into a faith which brought 
 with it new strength and courage. Whatever lay be- 
 fore could be faced confidently — she was no longer 
 alone. 
 
 But what had become of Kelleen ? Through the tree 
 branches behind which she had been concealed, Deborah 
 searched the full length of the chasm within reach of 
 her vision, but discovered no trace of his presence. It 
 was all completely deserted, and primitive, nowhere 
 exhibiting evidence of ever before having known human 
 occupancy. Yet the range of her observation was 
 limited. She seemed absolutely surrounded, shut in by 
 the precipitous walls rising high above on every side. 
 It was more like a gigantic well, dug by some monster 
 shovel in the desert sands, than the bed of a stream, she 
 remembered dimly that he had spoken of a sharp curve 
 in the side walls there to the right, and a portion he had 
 
 (133) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 not as yet explored. No doubt he had gone there now, 
 somewhere beyond the bend, and out of sight, endeavor- 
 ing to learn its mystery, confident of her safety ; believing 
 she would continue asleep, he had taken advantage of 
 the opportunity to learn all that was possible of their 
 strange hiding place. Probably he had ridden one of 
 the horses, and was even then just beyond that jutting 
 ridge of rock. She imagined she could even perceive 
 the sharp curve in the side wall into which he must have 
 disappeared down the concealed canyon. It was not 
 likely the man would be absent long. It must already 
 be noon by the sun, and, actuated by a desire to do 
 something, she finally began to arrange a meal for his 
 return. She had opened the bag of provisions, when 
 suddenly her eyes caught sight of something moving far 
 below, and to her right, objects at first hard to dis- 
 tinguish, and then quickly discerned as two horse- 
 men, emerging from the very cleft in the rocks where 
 she had decided the canyon probably ran. They came, 
 steadily on, growing more distinct each minute, yet still 
 too far away for recognition. 
 
 She crouched lower behind her screen, and waited 
 breathlessly. Two, what could that mean? It seemed 
 highly improbable that Kelleen could have encountered 
 a friend in this spot — a man in whom he had faith — 
 who was returning with him. If this was, as he so 
 
 (134) 
 
A NEW VIEWPOINT 
 
 evidently believed, a hidden lair of outlaws, a rendezvous 
 for border crime, it was hardly possible he had met with 
 any comrade here, if — if he was really what he had 
 claimed to be. The thought of that " if " struck her like 
 a blow. But was he ? was he ? She had nothing but the 
 man's own word to rely upon; no proof, no evidence 
 beyond his own assertion, and — and everything seem- 
 ingly against it. The truth of this came to her most 
 forcibly, her eyes strained to watch every movement of 
 those approaching horsemen. She could perceive 
 enough already to be certain that Kelleen was not one 
 of the group; they were both Mexicans, or at least so 
 attired, and their mounts bore Mexican trappings. 
 Little as the girl knew of the frontier, she at 
 once realized the danger of being discovered by such 
 men. 
 
 Yet what could she do to escape observation? Even 
 if they were approaching with no intimation whatever 
 of her presence, their eyes could not fail to detect the 
 horse grazing in the valley below, and they would surely 
 make some effort to discover how the strange animal 
 chanced to be there. While the fellows might not have 
 encountered Kelleen, the presence of a strange bronco 
 in that unusual place must certainly arouse suspicion. 
 It would not be held an accident, especially as any close 
 examination of the animal would quickly disclose evi- 
 
 (135) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 dences of the night's hard ride. Deborah was conscious 
 of trembling in every limb, as she crouched there, behind 
 the screen of leaves, instinctively grasping the only 
 weapon in her possession. Then she suddenly recog- 
 nized one of the riders as Juan Sanchez. 
 
 They had followed her then, and were seeking her 
 now. There could be no possible doubt as to Sanchez' 
 mission. How the fellow had reached there so quickly, 
 and why it even had been suspected she had sought this 
 remote spot of refuge, were unsolved questions, yet it 
 was highly probable that searching parties had been 
 dispatched in all directions, and the Mexican had been 
 the one whom Fate had headed that way. Anyhow she 
 could not speculate as to how, or why. Whether by 
 accident, or design, the two were here, and were unques- 
 tionably enemies to be avoided. Deborah could not 
 even guess what had already occurred below, yet the 
 two riders exhibited no outward signs of encounter; they 
 were approaching, making no effort at concealment. 
 In some way they must have failed then to meet Kelleen, 
 yet the grazing horse could not escape attention; they 
 would search for the missing rider, and she must find 
 hiding place somewhere among the rocks. 
 
 Her eyes traced the rugged bluff hopelessly; to 
 attempt scaling that would only bring her into full view, 
 yet there was a fringe of thick bushes below into which 
 
 (136) 
 
A NEW VIEWPOINT 
 
 she might plunge. This seemed the only hiding place 
 available, and, before seeking concealment there herself , 
 the girl had sufficient presence of mind hastily to fling 
 the various articles scattered about into the oblivion of 
 the thicket. The next moment she crept through the 
 thick fringe of brush into the shadow. The two horse- 
 men came slowly, cautiously, up the slight slope, staring 
 about them suspiciously, yet finding nothing at the 
 summit but a bit of trampled grass to tell that the spot 
 had been occupied previously. 
 
 Deborah, secure in a cleft of the rock behind a five- 
 foot screen of chaparral, crouched motionless, with ears 
 strained to detect the slightest sound. The first words 
 spoken were reassuring — the fellows were not seeking 
 her, possessed, indeed, no suspicion of her presence. 
 She was unable to see, but could hear plainly, and there 
 was no difficulty in recognizing the voice of Sanchez. 
 
 "Whatever do you suppose has become of them, 
 Jose?" he asked complainingly. "They were to have 
 come yesterday, you tell us, and yet they are not 
 here." 
 
 "But someone is, seiior — see, there has been camp 
 made." 
 
 " That was the guard; the ranch brand is on the pony 
 grazing yonder; I took note as we rode by. I wonder 
 where in hell the fellow has gone ? But he has naught 
 
 (137) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 to do with Casebeer's outfit. The gulch is empty, except 
 for the lad we met below." 
 
 "And what does he do in here, senor? Who was it 
 you call him?" 
 
 Sanchez laughed mirthlessly. 
 
 "Hiding out, Jose; there is no reason to fear that 
 guy. Besides he's Meager's friend; he was at the ranch 
 last night, and how the devil he got here so quick bothers 
 me. You don't know him? " 
 
 " No, senor." 
 
 11 I'll bet you know of him just the same. I called 
 him 'Frisco;' he's the 4 Kid.'" 
 
 "The 'Frisco Kid?' Sure, I hear of him. They 
 say he held up the Los Colos stage." 
 
 Sanchez laughed. 
 
 " 'Tis not all they say. He is the devil's own, if half 
 the tales be true — a smooth-spoken boy enough, but not 
 the sort to make sport of. Meager knows him — aye ! " 
 and he slapped his knee roughly at the happy thought, 
 " and that is why the lad is here, no doubt. I have it 
 now; Bob could not come himself, Jose, so he sent this 
 fellow. You know what happened last night? " 
 
 "Happened? where?" 
 
 "At the ranch. Why, of course, you don't ; you were 
 on herd, and only joined me as I rode out. Why Meager 
 got married to that pretty Americano nurse. Hell, it 
 
 (138) 
 
A NEW VIEWPOINT 
 
 was no choice of hers if I know aught of a woman's 
 ways, but little enough Seiior Bob cares for that. I've 
 seen him do the same trick before. That fat judge came 
 out from Nogales, and did the job, and 'twas scarce 
 likely Meager would desert his blushing bride to come 
 out here to meet Casebeer's outfit. So he sent the ' Kid.' 
 But why the hell didn't he tell me, I wonder? " 
 
 "Who tell you? — the 4 Kid?'" 
 
 " Either one of 'em ; I like to know what I'm bein' 
 stacked up against on a job like this. We've played safe 
 enough so far, but some day a government man is goin' 
 to stumble onto this hole, and there'll sure be 
 trouble a-plenty. Casebeer's lucky, but his outfit this 
 trip would be a mighty rich haul if he should happen to 
 fall down." 
 
 "Guns?" 
 
 "Ammunition, and booze for Villa; some combina- 
 tion that. It is to go over the border tonight, and a nice 
 wad of money comes back. That will be the ' Kid's ' 
 job, perhaps, if Meager doesn't show up by dark: we 
 haven't any orders beyond here." 
 
 "You think Seiior Bob maybe would send him to 
 bring back the money? " 
 
 "Sure; it's fifty-fifty with Casebeer, and ' Frisco' is 
 all right. He's square as they make 'em, I've always 
 heard. Raises hell, of course, now an' then, but he 
 
 (139) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 never double-crossed anybody. He ain't that kind, an' 
 Bob knows it; they've run together down below. I got 
 it figured out that's what the fellow is up here for — to 
 help out on this deal. Ain't that him roundin' that bluff 
 yonder? Sure it is — ridin' this way. I'm goin' to ask 
 him straight when he gets here." 
 
 (140) 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE HAND FROM THE ROCK 
 
 DEBORAH, frightened by what she heard, lifted 
 herself slightly so as to see better up the narrow 
 valley. The approaching horseman was in plain view, 
 and, even at that distance, the girl had no doubt as to 
 his identity. The straight, slender figure in the saddle 
 was unmistakable to her eyes, and the wide brim of his 
 hat, blown upward in the wind, even seemed to reveal 
 the features of his face. Her very heart seemed to 
 cease beating as she knelt, anxiously watching his 
 approach, the horse loping steadily, the man swaying 
 gently to the movement of the animal. Who, indeed, 
 was he — this Daniel Kelleen? this " Frisco Kid? " Was 
 he what she had begun to dream through the long night, 
 listening to his voice, his partial explanation — a real 
 man in whom she could trust and believe? in whose 
 honor she could confide? 
 
 Or was he what these ruffians so confidently pro- 
 claimed — an outlaw, a desperado of the frontier, an 
 escaped felon, hiding from justice, and even now 
 engaged in the committal of crime? Surely they knew 
 the man far better than she, and the very fact that he 
 
 (141) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 was the acknowledged friend of Bob Meager; that he 
 had brought her here into this secret hiding place of 
 outlaws, knowing what must be encountered, added to 
 her doubt. Surely he did know; these fellows took it 
 for granted that he was present on the same criminal 
 mission as themselves; he had deliberately left her, and 
 rode away seeking traces of Casebeer's gang in the 
 valley — seemingly there was no escape from the one 
 conclusion, that he was part of the conspiracy. He had 
 lied to her, deceived her, told her a fairy tale, laughing 
 at her credulity, while coldly going forward with his 
 own plans. In his hands, his control, she was as much 
 the victim of Meager as though she had remained back 
 yonder on the ranch. Her escape was but a dream ; she 
 was still a helpless prisoner. 
 
 Deborah grasped all this almost instantly, unable to 
 perceive any possibility of escape from the net Her 
 limbs trembled, yet she could only kneel there in silence, 
 watching the approach of the rider. There was nothing 
 she could do, no place where she could go — the high 
 cliff towered above unclimbable, the two Mexicans were 
 below, the unsaddled horse beyond any possible reach. 
 A wild hope thrilled into her heart, that perhaps this 
 man was not all bad; that whatever his real life might 
 be, he may have meant to be square with her, and would 
 yet protect her. Surely he never had revealed her 
 
 (142) 
 
THE HAND FROM THE ROCK 
 
 presence to these others ; perhaps that was why he had 
 not returned with them, hoping she might see the 
 strangers, and hide. He had no chance to give any- 
 other warning, and was compelled to trust her wit 
 This was a hope, a wild, reckless hope, which yielded 
 the girl courage. She would stay there, and wait, until 
 she learned the truth. His first words sent a thrill 
 through her heart — he was playing a part for her 
 protection. » 
 
 He reined in his mount sharply, glancing keenly 
 about, but with face expressionless as his eyes finally 
 encountered the two awaiting him. 
 
 "Whose horse is that?" he asked inquiringly, indi- 
 cating the grazing animal. 
 
 "I know not that, sefior; 'tis Meager' s brand." 
 
 " I can see that for myself, but it was not here when 
 I came by. Was anyone besides you two sent in here 
 on this business?" 
 
 "No, seiior," there was a touch of deference in 
 Sanchez' voice most unusual, Deborah was quick to 
 note and appreciate. "Only the two of us. Yet it 
 might be, for we knew not even that you were to come 
 also." 
 
 " That was an after-thought, and why I rode so hard 
 and straight. I knew about you, didn't I ? " 
 
 "Si, sefior; no doubt." 
 
 (143) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 "But about this other fellow, Juan? You saw no 
 one?" 
 
 "Not a sign, yet there has been camp made here; 
 the signs are plain. 'Tis likely to be the guard." 
 
 " The guard? Meager's, you mean? Does he keep 
 a guard in here?" 
 
 "At times, sefior; not only here, but in each direc- 
 tion. He is wise, sefior. No one approaches the ranch 
 but first he have warning. 'Tis hard to catch him 
 asleep." 
 
 "But who is this man?" 
 
 Sanchez shook his head, sitting on the ground, smok- 
 ing calmly. 
 
 " I know not that, sefior," he admitted indifferently. 
 "One of the herders. It can make no difference; he 
 has no orders but to bear word to the ranch if anything 
 go wrong. If he wait here he be back some timer" 
 
 Kelleen swung one leg carelessly over the pommel 
 of his saddle, and deliberately rolled and lit a ciga- 
 rette. His face expressed no emotion, no particular 
 interest, yet Deborah was certain the keen, searching 
 eyes had swept swiftly over her covert, and up the 
 steep front of the overtowering cliff. He suspected 
 where she was hidden, and was endeavoring to protect 
 her from discovery; but who was he really playing 
 fair with? was he trying to deceive both? or merely 
 
 (144) 
 
THE HAND FROM THE ROCK 
 
 playing a desperate game in which a single slip would 
 mean disaster ? Was he outlaw, or honest man ? Noth- 
 ing in the situation, or in the conversation thus far 
 overheard, gave her certainty. She dare not move, 
 scarcely venture to breathe, as she watched the three 
 men below through the tangle of limbs and leaves. 
 Kelleen sat motionless across his saddle, the blue 
 cigarette smoke circling lazily above his head, evidently 
 in perfect repose. It was some time before he even 
 spoke. 
 
 "When is this Casebeer gang expected ?" he ques- 
 tioned finally. 
 
 "Tonight, senor; it was to be earlier, but they not 
 come. Now not until tonight; they never cross the 
 desert by day." 
 
 "No, I reckon not; it would be too risky. Any 
 trouble here lately?" 
 
 Sanchez smiled, showing his yellow teeth, and waved 
 a hand in the air. 
 
 "Non, non, senor; not of late trouble. It was all 
 fixed. The Senor Meager he know who best to see. 
 They come — yes; last week a man come, an' question, 
 but he ride away, an' know nothing. A troop come, 
 soldiers from the fort, an' stay two, three day. I talk 
 with officer; he drink with Bob; then they go back to 
 Nogales. It be all right sure then — see? We know 
 
 (145) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 they not be back soon as this week. So we send word 
 for Casebeer." 
 
 "Yes, I see; but it is not so sure after all. Perhaps 
 they do come back." 
 
 The Mexican shook his head positively. 
 
 "No, senor, we know. We have watch always. 
 Sefior Meager very slick bird when not drunk. You 
 at the ranch last night? " 
 
 " Certainly; you saw me there. Why ? " 
 
 11 You not there alone, senor. The judge came also 
 from Nogales. You know the judge?" 
 
 " Not well, but sufficiently. Is he your man? " 
 
 " He brought the word. 'Twas for that he came, not 
 to marry Meager. That all came later, by what you 
 call luck. The woman was a fool, senor, to defy him 
 — what could she do ? " 
 
 "What did she do?" 
 
 " Pist ! I mean before; after it was nothing. I left 
 while they still drank, senor, but Bob will have had what 
 was his before now. There is no vixen he can't tame, 
 for she is not the first of them. A damn pretty girl, 
 
 senor." 
 
 Kelleen's eyes lifted to the chaparral above, but there 
 was no change in his face. 
 
 " Not having seen her I am unable to say, Sanchez," 
 he answered easily; then straightened suddenly in the 
 
 (146) 
 
THE HAND FROM THE ROCK 
 
 saddle. " Where does this northern gang come from ? * 
 11 Out of Calabasis, sefior, by way of the river." 
 "Then they will enter down below, through the 
 gorge. This is no place for us. Suppose they were de- 
 layed last night, and took a chance to come on this 
 morning by daylight — and why not ? They'd be under 
 rock cover all the last part of the way. It's beyond 
 here that they'd have the open desert to cross. Let's 
 ride down there, and wait." 
 
 " 'Tis no hurry sefior," Sanchez protested easily. " I 
 would see the herder first." 
 
 u For what? " a new ring of command had crept un- 
 consciously into the American's voice. u He has 
 nothing to do with this. Meager gave this job to me, 
 and I'm going to see that it is done right. Saddle up, 
 both of you ; there is just as good camping ground down 
 below. Come on, be lively about it." 
 
 There was a jumble of Mexican oaths, but something 
 in the stern eyes of the " Frisco Kid," backed no doubt 
 by his reputation, compelled obedience, and within five 
 minutes the three were trotting soberly down the valley. 
 No one of them glanced back, and Deborah lifting her 
 head higher and higher to peer after them through the 
 brush screen, watched until they disappeared entirely 
 about the sharp protuberance of rock, which marked 
 the end of the vista. Kelleen had done this purposely; 
 
 (147) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 his conversation with these men had been largely carried 
 on for her benefit and guidance. He knew where she 
 was; that she could easily overhear. Through these 
 means he endeavored to convey to her unsuspected, the 
 complete situation in which he was involved, and then, 
 this accomplished, he had inveigled the two unsuspect- 
 ing Mexicans away, thus giving her opportunity to 
 escape unseen. For some reason he was evidently 
 avoiding a quarrel with the fellows; he preferred to 
 deceive them, to permit their going on with their con- 
 templated crime, in which they were convinced he was 
 also implicated. But why? 
 
 Deborah was not yet wholly convinced of the man's 
 innocence. In spite of his evident intention of shield- 
 ing her from discovery, his intimate association with 
 Bob Meager, the understanding between him and San- 
 chez, was seemingly proof positive that he was an 
 important link in this conspiracy. The man was en- 
 deavoring to make her think otherwise, but the doubt 
 of him lingered in her mind. She would gladly have 
 fled alone, had she known the way across those drear 
 leagues of sand. In the night she had begun to trust, 
 to believe; the fellow's very recklessness and good 
 humor had been attractive; her vague suspicion seemed 
 to vanish in his presence. But now this doubt returned 
 with redoubled vigor, and, for the moment, she actu- 
 
 (148) 
 
THE HAND FROM THE ROCK 
 
 ally feared him as much as the man she had tried to 
 kill. More, perhaps, for Meager was only a rough, 
 passionate brute, while the very nature of Kelleen 
 rendered him a far more dangerous adversary. If he 
 also was interested in her — and the girl felt that he 
 was — she was in greater danger now than on the 
 ranch from which she had fled. She shrank from the 
 thought, yet it haunted her, and would not be driven 
 away. Where could she go? What could she do to 
 escape the man's return? Suicidal, impossible as it 
 appeared, she must find some means of leaving that 
 fatal valley before he came back again alone seeking 
 her. No horse could climb those rock walls down 
 which they had plunged in entering. Yet surely there 
 must be a way, a bridle path leading to the plain 
 above — the only possible exit could not be at the other 
 end. These outlaws would never dare hide here in a 
 mere cul-de-sac, in a blind trap, having no hope of 
 escape if discovered. At least she could seek for some 
 secret passage; if she failed it would be better than 
 hopelessly remaining where she was. 
 
 The girl drew back slowly, with eyes searching the 
 open valley, intent first of all on reaching the horse 
 grazing below. The only possible way was the one 
 she had taken in climbing there, along a ledge of stone 
 close in against the rock wall. The whole face of the 
 
 (149) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 cliff was a mass of trailing vines, clinging in some mys- 
 terious way to imperceptible crevices in the rock, com- 
 pletely veiling its front far up above her reach. It was 
 like a hanging, green tapestry, with here and there a 
 curious red flower flaming against the green background 
 of leaves. Deborah pressed these back to gain passage, 
 and had advanced a dozen steps, or more, when she 
 stopped, paralyzed with fear, staring into two terrifying 
 eyes. She could not move a limb, or scream in that 
 first instant of horror. Then a hand reached out, 
 swept the concealing vines aside, and gripped her. 
 
 (150) 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 WITHIN THE TUNNEL 
 
 DEBORAH struggled to break away, emitting one 
 startled cry for help, before the fingers of her 
 assailant closed viselike on her throat. She was in the 
 grasp of a giant, merciless in the exercise of his power, 
 and felt herself dragged helplessly through the tangle 
 of vines into blackness beyond. It was a man; she 
 knew that, although she had no glimpse of the face, 
 and made desperate effort at release, given unusual 
 strength by terror; but the grip on her throat tight- 
 ened remorselessly, and her power of resistance waned, 
 until she suddenly lost consciousness and all sense of 
 her surroundings. Her body lay limp in the fellow's 
 arms, and, with a growl of satisfaction, he bore the 
 motionless, seemingly lifeless body, back through the 
 deepening shadows, and cast it down on the stone floor. 
 The vines closed behind them, leaving scarcely a ves- 
 tige of daylight showing through the thick veil of 
 leaves. The man stood above the huddled figure of 
 the girl, hardly defined, shapeless in the gloom, and 
 laughed silently. He bent down and touched her, only 
 to straighten up once more, convinced she was not 
 
 (151) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 dead. He seemed doubtful, hesitant, uncertain what 
 to do next. He could only stare at that helpless form 
 huddled at his feet, and mutter to himself, almost 
 incoherently. 
 
 "Not dead — no; live maybe. One hour, two hour 
 lie so; then remember. What I do then? Tonight, 
 tomorrow I see. Now what else comes?" 
 
 His eyes, apparently accustomed to the dimness, en- 
 abled him to move about as though in a well-lighted 
 room. A rifle leaned against the back wall, and he 
 picked it up, tested its mechanism, and moved silently 
 forward to the entrance, the weapon resting in the 
 crook of his arm. 
 
 Cautiously he parted the leaves and looked out, 
 searching the full length of the deserted valley. Noth- 
 ing of consequence met his gaze, for he rested back 
 on a convenient boulder, and continued his vigil, as 
 motionless as the stone on which he sat. He must 
 have remained in that position for an hour, occasion- 
 ally shaking his head, and muttering incoherently to 
 himself, now and then peering back into the darkness 
 behind, but generally with keen gaze directed to the 
 sun-lit valley without. He remained vigilantly on 
 guard, with fingers fumbling the lock of his gun, his 
 figure tense, for action. Then, suddenly, and without 
 warning, the fellow appeared to relax, his head sink- 
 
 (152) 
 
WITHIN THE TUNNEL 
 
 ing forward on the arm resting above the gun muzzle, 
 and he sank into a deep sleep. 
 
 Deborah stirred slightly in the black corner where 
 she had been thrown, and slowly, painfully opened her 
 eyes. At first she failed to realize what had occurred, 
 and stared about, seeing nothing through the dim light. 
 Her body, weakened by struggle, seemed helplessly 
 inert, while at first her mind failed to function. No 
 flash of memory recurred to aid her. Full conscious- 
 ness came slowly, reawakening first to the bruised body, 
 and the throat lacerated by those cruel hands. She 
 could scarcely swallow, or move her limbs without pain. 
 Then, her eyes accustoming themselves to the pervad- 
 ing gloom, the girl began dimly to perceive objects 
 about her, and thus grasp something of the situation. 
 Little by little the details came back — the rocky plat- 
 form without; the departure of the three men down 
 the valley; her determination to escape before Kelleen 
 could return; the screen of clinging vines concealing 
 the face of the precipice; the mad glow of those men- 
 acing eyes through the tangle of leaves; that out- 
 stretched, hairy arm, beastlike in its appearance; the 
 clutch on her throat; the wild, hopeless struggle, ending 
 so quickly in darkness. She could scarcely restrain a 
 scream of terror, yet the very sense of her situation 
 held her silent, her whole body trembling violently. 
 
 (153) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 Where was she ? Where had her assailant gone ? Was 
 the thing man, or beast? The questions were unan- 
 swerable; she could be assured of but one thing — she 
 was still alive. 
 
 Slowly, silently the girl succeeded in lifting herself 
 partially from off the hard rock on which she lay, using 
 the rough outcroppings of the wall as support to the 
 effort. Her bruised limbs ached, and her head throbbed 
 with agony, as she changed her posture ever so slightly, 
 yet the movement served to clear her mind, and bring 
 back a measure of courage. She was not only alive 
 still, but she could think, act, and perceive now some- 
 thing of her surroundings. She could not make out 
 a great deal, however, as the only light was that which 
 stole in through the intricacies of those shadowing 
 leaves concealing the opening. These were so thick 
 as to be almost impenetrable, a vagrant ray here and 
 there alone visible. But these were sufficient dimly to 
 reveal outlines, enabling her to guess. She was either 
 in a natural cave, or a tunnel excavated directly into 
 the face of the cliff. The roughness of the side wall, 
 which she could touch, and the apparent lowness of 
 the roof above, led her to believe that this hole had 
 either been dug entirely by men, or else decidedly en- 
 larged from its original dimensions. She almost felt 
 assured the marks of tools could actually be distin 
 
 (154) 
 
 I 
 
WITHIN THE TUNNEL 
 
 guished by touch of the fingers along the surface. But 
 for what purpose had it been done? who were the men 
 engaged on such a work in this hidden, barren coun- 
 try? were they still there? and what might be their 
 object — concealment? or a search after treasure? 
 
 This was a land of crime, of outlawed men, of des- 
 perate chances, and war against fate. She knew little 
 of its hidden mysteries, only that nothing was too 
 strange to occur in this vast desolation of the border. 
 Here men lived continually in open defiance of the law, 
 and counted murder as but part of the day's work. 
 It was far more likely that this hole, chiseled out of 
 the cliff, was the hidden rendezvous of some gang of 
 criminals, than the honest effort of gold seekers to 
 wrest treasure from the heart of the barren hill. 
 This conception also accorded more completely with 
 the mysterious attack on her, the rudeness with which 
 she had been assaulted, the leaving her lying there half 
 'dead. Surely no miner would be guilty of such an 
 act of brutality; only intense fear of discovery, by 
 someone half crazed by terror, could account for such 
 violent action. She must be in the hands of criminals, 
 outlaws, willing to commit any atrocity rather than 
 risk possible betrayal. Their action had been dictated 
 wholly by fear of discovery, and was proof positive 
 they would hesitate at no crime to safeguard themselves* 
 
 (155) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 Nor was there any help, outside herself, of escape. 
 She had, perhaps, been left for dead; certainly be- 
 lieved so severely injured as to be safe for the present. 
 Although she could perceive no guard, yet, it was highly 
 probable that any movement on her part would be 
 observed instantly. She must remain silent, cautious. 
 Her thought swept back to Kelleen, and the memory 
 of the man was no longer wholly fear of his presence. 
 In spite of her doubts, her distrust, the recollection of 
 their night's ride together recurred now as almost a 
 pleasant remembrance. Criminal, outlaw, he might 
 be, but he was no brute, no beast of the jungle; rather 
 he had shown himself a man, even a gentleman. Yet 
 what help could she expect from him ? If he was loyal, 
 and worthy, how could he be of any aid? 
 
 Beyond all doubt the man would return in search of 
 her. He had shrewdly guessed where she lay in con- 
 cealment, and had led those others away for no other 
 purpose but to leave her there securely hidden. As 
 soon as he could rid himself from their observation 
 he would surely be back once more. But even if he 
 came had she left any trail he could follow? Plains- 
 man as he undoubtedly was, how could he discover 
 this hidden place in which she now found herself pris- 
 oner? She had gone; that was all, disappeared, van- 
 ished, leaving no mark of guidance behind. Interested 
 
 (156) 
 
WITHIN THE TUNNEL 
 
 as he might be, he could never solve the riddle, except 
 by pure accident. Her passage back from the edge 
 of the covert had been made over smooth rock, on 
 which her feet could have left no slightest trace. If 
 she had flown away into the air the final mystery of 
 her disappearance could not have been greater. Sup- 
 pose he even approached the front of the precipice, 
 or stumbled blindly into the mouth of the tunnel behind 
 the canopy of vines — what then? She could conceive 
 but one inevitable result — his death. 
 
 She was surprised, shocked at how that new thought 
 sickened and disheartened her. The very picture of 
 the scene rising before her imagination left the girl 
 faint and trembling with apprehension. She doubted 
 him, had fled to escape him; shrank even now from 
 being again alone in his power; yet some memory of 
 that night, through which they had ridden together, 
 could not be destroyed. In some way his personality 
 had touched her strongly, and the tie refused to snap. 
 Yet death certainly stood grimly between them now. 
 If this guardian of the hidden tunnel could treat her 
 as he had — actuated by terror, or whatever cause had 
 led to his action — he would surely prove no more 
 merciful to him. If this man could assault, and hold 
 her prisoner, he would never hesitate at murder to 
 prevent discovery. He would be on watch, would 
 
 (157) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 mark Kelleen's approach, his every footstep. Skulk- 
 ing behind that screen of leaves, unseen, unsuspected, 
 he could kill safely, and in that wild land the report 
 of the death shot would bring no danger. And surely 
 he was on watch; he must know she never had come 
 into the sunken valley alone. 
 
 Deborah's searching eyes, now able to distinguish 
 objects with some clearness, scanned the rock walls to 
 the obscured entrance. At first she could not be sure, 
 but finally the vague outlines of the man seated on the 
 rock became visible. He was huddled forward in such 
 grotesque posture as scarcely to appear human, but 
 gradually the girl realized what the uncouth shape must 
 be, could even detect the long, scraggly beard, the great 
 breadth of shoulders, and the rifle, on which he leaned. 
 With this discovery came the instant assurance also 
 that the fellow slept soundly. But was he there alone ? 
 She lifted herself slowly, cautiously, to her knees, 
 eagerly searching the surrounding darkness, but could 
 see no sign of any other presence. A thrill of hope 
 brought courage, and new strength to her limbs. Might 
 it not be possible for her to steal forward silently, and 
 then, with a sudden spring, clear the obstruction of 
 vines, and gain the free day without, before the slum- 
 bering guard could even comprehend what had oc- 
 curred? The horse was not a hundred yards away, 
 
 (158) 
 
WITHIN THE TUNNEL 
 
 and, even if she had to leap boldly from off the shelf 
 of rock, she would willingly dare all for a chance at 
 escape. Yet she had not advanced three steps until 
 she realized the impossibility of the effort — the sleep- 
 ing body utterly blocked the passage. 
 
 She could perceive the fellow now with some dis- 
 tinctness, a giant of a man, with long, apelike arms, bare 
 and hairy, an oddly formed head, almost pear-shaped, 
 long hair shading the face, and a black beard sweeping 
 to his knees. There was no suggestion of age, or weak- 
 ness, in his appearance, and she drew back, cowering 
 at remembrance of the mad grip of those hands about 
 her throat; she dare not test such strength again. 
 Slowly, silently, without actually knowing why, the girl 
 drew back into the deeper darkness behind her, guiding 
 herself with one hand against the rough wall. Into 
 her mind had come the faint hope of another egress 
 somewhere, the very purity of the air suggesting such 
 a possibility, she even imagining she felt a draught 
 upon her cheek. Yet there was no glimmer of light. 
 Once her groping foot struck against fragments of 
 rock left lying where they fell. She bent down better to 
 assure herself of the obstruction, and her exploring 
 fingers touched a pick. It was indeed a mine, then; 
 this secret excavation had been man's work; Nature 
 may have pointed the way, but this tunnel itself orig- 
 
 (159) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 inated through lust of wealth. The guard, the intense 
 fear of discovery, the hatred of intruders, arose from 
 this same cause. Her captors were not outlaws, but 
 men crazed by fear of losing what they had uncovered 
 in these rocky hills. Yet this knowledge rendered her 
 situation no whit less dangerous. 
 
 Deborah crept forward over the pile of debris, dis- 
 covering that this fall of stone did not denote the 
 ending of the passage. She was in intense darkness, 
 no longer able to distinguish even the distant light of 
 the entrance, or any outline of that slumbering figure 
 perched motionless on the stone. Suddenly her groping 
 hands revealed a sharp curvature in the tunnel, and 
 she worked her way about the corner with utmost cau- 
 tion. Then she stopped, rooted to the spot, her heart 
 almost ceasing to beat. Far above, up what appeared 
 to be a sharply inclined chute through the solid rock, 
 came streaming down a single ray of daylight, its faint 
 reflection resting directly upon the upturned face of 
 a dead man, stretched on the tunnel floor. 
 
 (160) 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE PASSAGE OUT 
 
 DEBORAH, startled, swayed back against the wall 
 for support, staring down into that white, up- 
 turned face, clearly revealed within the little pool of 
 light. She had witnessed death so often in most hideous 
 form as to have no doubt the man was beyond help; 
 nor was it any personal fear of the corpse, even in 
 that gloomy spot, which held her rigid. For the instant 
 she seemed to have lost all power of volition, her very 
 brain numbed by this unexpected encounter. It was 
 the face of a young man, his dark, wide-open eyes star- 
 ing blindly up into vacancy, his brown hair, cut short, 
 almost good-looking even in death, with cheeks freshly 
 shaven. This last was what aroused the girl, brought 
 her back quickly to life and action. He had the appear- 
 ance of having shaved that very morning; the stubble 
 of his beard was not even visible. Then she noted 
 two other facts — his revolver was in the holster at 
 his waist, and the hand, held upright against the side 
 wall, grasped a folded paper. He had just been killed, 
 not more than two hours before surely, and in no duel 
 — perhaps he had fallen to where he lay while climbing 
 
 (161) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 that narrow passage above. But the wound? There 
 was none visible — not even a bruise on the face. As 
 a woman, Deborah shrank from touching the body, 
 but her training as a nurse instantly conquered. She 
 must learn the truth, disagreeable as the task might 
 be. On her knees, exerting all her strength, she par- 
 tially turned the body — the man had been shot in the 
 back. 
 
 She seemed to comprehend it all in a flash, visioning 
 the scene as she rose quickly to her feet. He must 
 have done the deed — that older man with the beard — 
 shooting treacherously from behind. This younger 
 man had been given no chance, probably did not even 
 suspect his danger, before being struck down. His 
 hand was not even on his gun in any effort at defense ; 
 he probably never knew. Perhaps he was climbing the 
 passage up there, seeking for some way of escape from 
 the tunnel, or else merely exploring the narrow hole 
 leading to the bar of light above. He could scarcely 
 have felt suspicion of any other presence, or he never 
 would have been taken so completely by surprise. The 
 other had stolen stealthily through those black shadows 
 behind, and fired at the figure above outlined plainly 
 against that opening. It had been deliberate murder. 
 But the purpose was not so clear. To all appearances 
 the assassin had never even approached his victim after 
 
 (162) 
 
THE PASSAGE OUT 
 
 he fell. Confident of the deadly accuracy of his aim* 
 he had left the inert body lying where it struck, un- 
 touched, not even the dead man's gun being removed 
 from its holster, or the folded bit of paper released 
 from those gripping fingers. 
 
 The unspeakable, treacherous horror of the act ap- 
 palled Deborah. There must be some reason behind it 
 all. It was too cold, cruel, deliberative, not to have 
 definite cause. Some quarrel, some jealousy, or long 
 hatred must have led up to this tragic end — or, could 
 it be the deed of insanity? No speculation now could 
 solve the mystery, but the murderer still lived; he was 
 back yonder in the darkness she had just left. He 
 would no more spare her than he had shown mercy to 
 this other victim. If he still slept she must take advan- 
 tage of the moment for escape — the one chance up 
 that long passage toward the gleam of light at the top. 
 She stepped across the dead body, grasping her skirts 
 tightly in one hand; then hesitated for an instant, 
 obsessed by a new thought. Perhaps that paper might 
 explain it all, might prove the very key to all this mys- 
 tery. She bent, and wrested it from out the stiffened 
 fingers, hastily endeavoring to learn what it contained. 
 It was a thick, tough sheet, the folds showing yellow 
 and dirty as though it had been carried a long while, 
 and there was writing inside, in fine penmanship, but 
 
 (163) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 so indistinct her eyes were unable to decipher a single 
 word in that dim light. She thrust it into the bosom 
 of her blouse, her eyes anxiously searching the only 
 possible way out. 
 
 It scarcely promised even that, as revealed by that 
 single ray barely illuminating the passage. Appar- 
 ently an irregularly sized hole, worn between layers 
 of solid rock by the action of water, it led upward at 
 a sharp angle, and, while wide enough at the lower 
 extremity to permit the entrance of a full-grown man, 
 seemed to contract at the upper opening so as to make 
 it very doubtful if an ordinary body could squeeze 
 through into the open air beyond. The hole was not 
 smooth, but knobby with projections of stone, to which 
 hand and foot could cling, thus making it possible for 
 one to clamber up safely, but the diameter at the top 
 could only be guessed at from that distance. Yet 
 Deborah felt that she had no choice, but to accept this 
 single chance of deliverance. She could not remain 
 there with the dead man, nor retrace her steps back- 
 ward to where the murderer remained asleep on guard. 
 Her belt was still about her waist, but its holster was 
 empty; the revolver had either been removed while 
 she was unconscious, or had fallen out during her fierce 
 struggle at the entrance of the mine. Before beginning 
 to climb, she drew the dead man's gun from his scab- 
 
 (164) 
 
THE PASSAGE OUT 
 
 bard, and stuck it into her own. As she did so the 
 light from above glimmered on a pearl-studded handle, 
 and a barrel of blue steel. 
 
 At first the climbing was not difficult, the slope grad- 
 ual with the walls sufficiently wide apart to afford 
 comparatively easy passage. Outcroppings of rock 
 kept her from slipping back, even furnished a sort of 
 ladder up which she climbed. Then the passage nar- 
 rowed, with a far sharper incline, the center becoming 
 almost as smooth as glass. Deborah was obliged to 
 find support against the irregularity of the sides, draw- 
 ing herself forward by her hands, with feet groping 
 in the darkness below for any projection against which 
 they could rest. Yet she won her way upward, almost 
 inch by inch, soon creeping over a narrow shelf, able, 
 finally, to sit upright within a shallow niche at one 
 side, where the stone had been hollowed out for a few 
 inches. She was breathless from the hard climb, her 
 heart beating rapidly. Hope almost deserted her as 
 she traced the contracted passage leading from there 
 to the top, a mere round funnel, through which she 
 must actually force her body. The small, contracted 
 opening above appeared impossible. 
 
 The girl gazed over into the darkness below. She 
 could see nothing, hear nothing, yet her mind pictured 
 again the dead face of that boy staring up at her — 
 
 (165) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 she could not go back to that ! Nor to that other, living 
 horror, beyond ! The fellow might be awake by now, 
 seeking her, trailing her back through the tunnel, know- 
 ing his crime had been discovered, ready for any bru- 
 tality rather than permit of her escape. He would 
 seek her here first of all; however desperate the ven- 
 ture, she must go on ; better to die there, caught help- 
 lessly in that rocky hole, than ever to fall again into 
 the power of that beast. She listened intently, hearing 
 nothing; then lifted her hands to feel upward. The 
 sudden flap of a wing almost struck her face, and a 
 bat scurried up the passage ; she could see it shadowed 
 against the gleam of daylight above. The girl laughed 
 nervously, but did not even shrink back. She lifted one 
 foot, seeking a fragment of rock to rest upon. Then 
 a flare of red lit the inferno, a dull, muffled report 
 echoed along the imprisoning walls, and a bullet brushed 
 her hair, flattening itself on the rock beyond. 
 
 She shrank back into the little niche, scarcely certain 
 of her escape, and rested there on her knees, not ven- 
 turing to move. The shot had come from below; of 
 that there could be no doubt, but there was no other 
 report, no movement to reveal any presence. Deborah 
 had no question as to who had fired — it must be the 
 man she had fled from in the outer cave. He must 
 have seen her outlined against that round opening 
 
 (166) 
 
THE PASSAGE OUT 
 
 above. It was a miracle she had escaped; but to have 
 seen her the fellow must have stood directly beneath, 
 beside the body of the dead man. Perhaps he would 
 be there still, peering up to learn the result of his shot, 
 wondering where she had disappeared so quickly. Her 
 pulse had ceased to throb so rapidly, and she felt a 
 strange coolness of action. She was safe enough where 
 she was, behind that barrier of rock, and she drew the 
 pearl-handled revolver out of its holster, and listened 
 eagerly for any sound of guidance from below. If 
 he made any effort to climb up, she meant to shoot to 
 kill. 
 
 She dare not venture to advance her face around the 
 rock edge, for fear the movement might bring her into 
 view against that vista of light. She knelt thus, minute 
 after minute, ready, but hearing nothing to guide her. 
 The fellow was evidently waiting and watching just as 
 she was, disconcerted by her strange disappearance. 
 No doubt he half believed his bullet had found its mark, 
 that she had fallen, either wounded, or dead, into some 
 crevice, but was afraid as yet to venture up that nar- 
 row tunnel. Yet surely the man would be crouched 
 where he could perceive any movement above him. 
 She could not remain there indefinitely waiting for him 
 to gain courage to attempt the ascent. Her hand, with 
 the weapon in it, reached noiselessly out beyond the 
 
 (167) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 edge of the rock, and pointed downward. A stone 
 rattled below, and her finger pulled the trigger. 
 
 The muffled report echoed back from the rocks, the 
 red flash of the discharge faded into darkness, and the 
 pungent smoke blew back into her face ; but there was 
 nothing else. No cry, no crunch of a falling body, no 
 thud of lead. She listened helplessly, half crazed, to 
 empty every load from her poised weapon into that 
 silence below. What could it all mean? What had 
 happened behind that black veil? No sound told, and 
 yet she dare not move, might not venture to expose 
 herself against that patch of blue sky above. An hour 
 passed, an hour of dreadful watching, of tense expecta- 
 tion. It seemed to her the blue light streaming through 
 that opening was already losing its power, as though 
 the sun was going down. If she would escape she 
 must go while she could yet see the way. Desperate 
 as the chance was, it must be accepted. Never before 
 had she been so overmastered by physical fear, yet her 
 will conquered, and she ventured out upon the open 
 shelf of rock, and began to clamber slowly up through 
 the shaft of light. She did not look down, or permit 
 herself to think of the possible danger lurking below. 
 With lips closely pressed together, and heart beating 
 rapidly, she drew herself up, inch by inch, bracing her 
 body against the side walls as though in a chimney, 
 
 (168) 
 
THE PASSAGE OUT 
 
 making use of every projection as a support to either 
 hand or foot, and thus steadily approaching the open- 
 ing overhead. It was a more difficult passage even 
 than she had supposed, almost choked in places by 
 debris. Twice she had to stop, clinging desperately 
 for support, and clear away fragments of rock before 
 she could creep past, the loosened pebbles rolling noisily 
 down the steep slope. Yet her courage had returned; 
 there had been no attack from beneath, no evidence of 
 life. 
 
 Deborah reached the end of her climb breathless, 
 her limbs aching from exertion, her heart sinking with 
 dismay. It never could be accomplished, the passage 
 of her body through that narrow opening to the world 
 without. How sweet the fresh air felt; how beautiful 
 the blue arch of sky, yet it was hopeless of attainment. 
 The very madness of the thought proved her salvation. 
 Crazed for the moment, she began to dig fiercely with 
 her fingers at the obstruction, tearing at a projecting 
 point of rock, which suddenly yielded to the furious 
 attack, a stream of loosened sand pouring after. Little 
 by little, madly tearing at the sides of the orifice, she 
 managed to wear away every fragment back to the solid 
 rim of rock. Even then the passage outward of her 
 body appeared almost impossible. She unbelted the 
 revolver, and flung it through the opening; then drew 
 
 (169) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 herself upward, fearful every instant of being irre- 
 trievably caught, yet finding purchase below for her feet 
 sufficient to thrust her slender body steadily forward. 
 At last, her shoulders emerged into the outer day, and 
 she was enabled to drag the rest of her body over the 
 rim of rock. Utterly exhausted, Deborah lay on the 
 sand, gasping for breath, conscious only that she had 
 found refuge in a shallow ravine. She lay there out- 
 stretched in the shadow of a steep bank, without strength 
 even to lift her head. 
 
 (170) 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 TWO OF A KIND 
 
 DEBORAH felt that she never would regain power 
 to rise, yet this total exhaustion passed away, as 
 she began to breathe more easily, and finally she sat 
 upon the sand, gazing about at her strange surround- 
 ings, eager to discover what she could attempt next 
 The desperation of her plight was clear. She had 
 escaped from that hell underground, yet was but little 
 better off than before. She was upon the edge of the 
 desert stretching outward toward the Meager ranch. 
 It would be impossible to cross this on foot, with neither 
 food nor water to sustain her; nor could she for a 
 moment contemplate seeking refuge there, even if it 
 were possible. Her only hope was to circle that hidden 
 chasm, and then endeavor to find her way north until 
 she reached some human habitation. The hope of 
 accomplishing this was the merest mirage; the attempt 
 probably meant death. She knew nothing of the coun- 
 try in that direction, how far the desert stretched, or 
 the dim trails leading through its desolation. She had 
 no horse, no food, yet somehow, in the exhilaration 
 of that first moment of release, she could not wholly 
 
 c vn \ 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 despair. God had been good; she would go on cour- 
 ageously, and trust Him. 
 
 She arose to her knees, and looked about. It was 
 a lonely, contracted scene, amid which she was con- 
 cealed. Some rift in the rocks led down to that opening 
 through which she had just crept. Perhaps it had 
 formed a water course in other ages, but now the sand 
 of the desert had drifted in, and covered all with a 
 yellow mantle of desolation. A few gnarled shrubs 
 clung precariously to the steep banks, while farther 
 back, a bunch of more pretentious bushes hid the upper 
 end of the depression. The sides were too steep to 
 scale even on foot, the loose sand foiling every attempt, 
 so she was compelled to follow the course of the defile 
 in seeking a way out. The sun was well down in the 
 western sky, the little ravine lying largely in shadow, 
 and for the first few yards of advance the girl had no 
 suspicion she was not alone. The patch of sagebrush 
 limited her view, and she was threading her way 
 through these, when the sound of a voice speaking 
 caused her to crouch suddenly down in the midst of 
 the thicket, and lie motionless, scarcely daring to 
 breathe. It was the voice itself which paralyzed her 
 every volition, a voice instantly recognized, never to 
 be forgotten — the voice of Bob Meager. 
 
 Her ears caught but a word or two, disconnected 
 (172) 
 
TWO OF A KIND 
 
 meaningless, an outburst of profanity, and a brutal 
 laugh, yet there could be no possible doubt as to the 
 speaker. It was Meager, rough, coarse as ever. He 
 was not dead then; the blow struck had no more than- 
 stunned the man, and — and she was his wife. Debo 
 rah's fingers dug at the sand in sudden agony, as that 
 hideous thought came home anew to her mind. She 
 was legally married to that repulsive brute, that foul- 
 mouthed cur; he was there seeking her, had in some 
 way discovered their trail across the desert, and now, 
 actuated by revenge, was seeking to get her once again 
 in his power. She could conceive no other purpose in 
 his relentless pursuit. In some mysterious way he 
 must have discovered what had occurred, suspected 
 that she and Kelleen had ridden away together, and 
 then followed, like an Indian, on the trail. She lifted 
 her head suddenly; another voice spoke quietly, indif- 
 ferently, interrupting Meager's outburst of profanity 
 as though it had never occurred. Surely, the voice was 
 familiar, it must have been Kelleen himself who 
 spoke. 
 
 She crept forward inch by inch, crouching low behind 
 the sage until she could see the figures of the two men. 
 Neither one faced her; Meager sat on the side of the 
 bank, his horse grazing just beyond, while the " Frisco 
 Kid" remained in the saddle, his mount still breathing 
 
 (173) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 heavily as though he had only just arrived after a 
 hard ride. 
 
 "Well, what difference does it make?" he asked 
 quietly. "Am I in on this, or not?" 
 
 " Of course you're in now," was the surly response. 
 "I reckon that was what caused you to show up in 
 these parts, ain't it? Casebeer squealed, and you got 
 wise to the whole game. I wondered what was being 
 pulled off when you rode in last night. Say, * Kid,' 
 who really piped it to you — Casebeer or Garrity?" 
 
 "The less you know about that the longer you'll 
 live, Bob," Kelleen replied calmly. " It is enough that 
 I do know, not only what you are up to out here, but 
 that it was also your game to double-cross me. I don't 
 take kindly to that sort of thing " 
 
 " This wasn't no part of our deal." 
 
 " Well, I say it was ; it's Mex war stuff, isn't it, that 
 Casebeer's running through? Who got you a chance 
 at that in the first place ? " 
 
 He grinned, good-naturedly enough, waiting for the 
 other to reply, then resumed. 
 
 " But let that go now. You thought you could throw 
 me, which is an old story. You tried the same game 
 once before, Bob. The scheme has never worked very 
 well. You haven't got the brains to do it with. Case- 
 beer never told me anything ; nor Garrity. All I needed 
 
 (174) 
 
TWO OF A KIND 
 
 was to know you, and your kind. You were never 
 honest in your life, and when I heard about this deal, 
 it was easy enough to figure what was up. I didn't 
 have to ask any questions of your gang. I came out 
 to see for myself." 
 
 " What deal, ' Kid ? ' What do you mean ? " 
 
 "This ranch inheritance Garrity fixed up so nicely 
 for you. No, I haven't all the dope — not yet. But 
 I'm on my way to it, all right; the rawest deal I ever 
 heard about, and it will blow up like a punctured bal- 
 loon, just so soon as your stepmother gets nerve enough 
 to see a good lawyer. That's true, ain't it, Bob?" 
 
 " The old man left it to me." 
 
 "Yes, he did — not." I was down in old Mex when 
 I first heard what was going on up here. Young Clair 
 got hold of one end of the story somehow, and told it 
 to me. He didn't know very much, only that you and 
 Garrity were hand in glove, and that you were up 
 here running things — you remember Clair?" 
 
 "He worked here on the ranch." 
 
 "Yes; that's what made him talk. He's square, 
 that kid, and you fired him, and every other American 
 on the place; then put on Mexicans. That made him 
 sore. When he told me that I came pretty near 
 knowing what was up." 
 
 "You did, hey! Wanted a hand in the game?" 
 (175) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " Why shouldn't I, Bob? I held you up when you 
 was flat, didn't I ? There is no reason why you should 
 forget me now. Damn you ! I mean to see that you 
 don't. That's what I'm here for. Now listen — I'm 
 on to what is going to be pulled off tonight — this Case- 
 beer business. It doesn't make any difference how I 
 found that out, or who gave it away. You sent Sanchez 
 and his helper over here to take care of the Casebeer 
 outfit — that's right, isn't it?" 
 
 Meager growled something indistinctly, his eyes an- 
 grily watchful, but Kelleen remained on guard. 
 
 " There is no use playing the hog, Bob," the latter 
 went on coolly. " I've got the cards, and I'm no girl 
 you can play the brute with, like you did last night. 
 Sanchez naturally thought you sent me out here; I told 
 him you did, and he saw me at the ranch last evening* 
 Consequently it was easy enough to find out all he 
 knew. He was supposed to meet you here, but, as you 
 see, I came instead. I thought it might be just as well 
 for us to reach an understanding before Casebeer 
 showed up." 
 
 "You damned devil!" 
 
 "I appreciate the compliment," smiling ironically, 
 " but I am here to do business, not to exchange felici- 
 tations. What time does this outfit come in? " 
 
 " Between now and midnight." 
 (176) 
 
TWO OF A KIND 
 
 "What are they running ?" 
 
 "War stuff, of course." 
 
 "And you have the way cleared — Garrity brought 
 you that information, no doubt. Has he gone back 
 to Nogales?" 
 
 "Yes; this morning.' ' 
 
 "I see; everything has been attended to. Some- 
 body with brains is engineering this. You and Sanchez 
 do the rough work while the judge clears the trail. 
 All right; I've got it mapped out now. I was afraid 
 the Mexican might be lying to me, but I guess he wasn't. 
 You are really not supposed to be in this deal at all. 
 The Mex takes the stuff across the line, gets your share 
 of the boodle, and brings it back. All you need do is 
 hide out here, and wait. Pretty soft, I'd say." 
 
 "Is it? Well, what are you going to do?" 
 
 " Play square, Bob. I'm damned if you deserve it, 
 but I'll only take my share. I'll go along with the outfit, 
 though, to make sure I get it. Then we'll split right 
 here. Keep that hand away. You have been edging 
 in toward that gun for the last five minutes. I've got 
 you covered, you sneaking cur. I don't take any chances 
 with your kind. Now are you ready to come clean? " 
 
 There was no immediate answer, and Kelleen settled 
 back into his saddle, but still faced the other, who had 
 risen to his feet. 
 
 (177) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " 1 came up here half inclined to kill you," the 
 younger man said soberly, " but now I am going to give 
 you a show-down if you play fair. I know you would 
 double-cross anybody if you had a chance. I don't 
 mean to give you any. You stay here until I come back; 
 if you fail, I'll run you down, no matter where you go. 
 You get that?" 
 
 "Damn you — yes." 
 
 "And you know what that means?" 
 
 Meager's fingers clinched and unclinched, his tongue 
 wetting his dry lips. 
 
 " You needn't make any promise, Bob. Your word 
 means nothing to me. You stay here until I come back. 
 If you don't, you are as good as dead — that's all. 
 That's my pledge; and you know whether it is good, 
 or not. Anything more you want to say?" 
 
 He backed his horse slowly down into the bottom 
 of the gully, turning the animal's head toward the 
 opposite bank, but still twisted in the saddle so as to 
 confront Meager. He had drawn his revolver, and 
 held it carelessly in his hand. 
 
 "You are such a dirty, low-down brute," he said 
 coldly, "it would really be a pleasure to put you out 
 of the world. I sometimes wonder why I don't. The 
 Mex tells me you got married last night. Was it the 
 real thing this time?" 
 
 (178) 
 
TWO OF A KIND 
 
 "That's none of your damned business." 
 
 "Perhaps not, but let's be social while we are to- 
 gether. Partners ought not to quarrel. Surprises me 
 you should desert the fair bride so soon. You seem 
 to have your head wrapped up — couldn't be a love 
 tap, could it?" 
 
 Meager's temper obtained full control at this un- 
 pleasantry. 
 
 "Hell, I was drunk!" he growled viciously. "But 
 she'll pay for it, the next time I get hands on the 
 wench." 
 
 "So, she got away then? Lord, Bob, I always 
 thought you was a woman tamer. This one is of an- 
 other sort, then, than those you are accustomed to 
 handling; doesn't take kindly to the cave-man stuff?" 
 
 " She'll take it, all right, the damn little vixen. She 
 hit me when I was drunk, and then got away; hid in 
 the old lady's room, I reckon, for I couldn't find her 
 nowhere. But I'll bring the girl out o' there tonight, 
 by God, an' she won't have no drunk man to deal with 
 neither." 
 
 Kelleen laughed, evidently well satisfied with what 
 he had learned, and having no further desire to add to 
 Meager's discomfiture. His restive horse suddenly 
 sprang forward under the quick thrust of the man's 
 heel, crashing through the tangle of sage, and up the 
 
 (179) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 steep bank to the level of the desert above. Deborah 
 had barely time to sink her body lower into the sand 
 behind her covert, when the startled animal swept past, 
 one hoof scarcely missing her. Meager, with an oath, 
 swung a hand back to his pistol butt, yet was already too 
 late — Kelleen had gone over the crest, the faint echo 
 of a laugh floating behind him tantalizingly. 
 
 (180) 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 MORE COMPLICATIONS 
 
 ALL the girl could do was to remain silently where 
 S she lay behind that cluster of sage. Had she been 
 seen by either of the men? Did Kelleen catch glimpse 
 of her as his horse dashed up the bank? or had Bob 
 Meager, staring after him, chanced to discover her 
 hiding place ? She had no means of knowing, but could 
 only keep her motionless pose like a frightened rabbit. 
 It was already growing dusk, and shadows hung over 
 the gully, becoming deeper with every passing moment. 
 If she had escaped observation so far she would soon 
 be perfectly safe. And she was — she was ! 
 
 The certainty was like a glass of wine, the blood 
 coming back to her heart, her pulse steadying. Kelleen 
 had ridden on, never pausing; she could hear the dull 
 thud of his horse's hoofs in the sand, until the sound 
 died away in the distance. And Meager stood there, 
 revolver in hand, cursing impotently; finally leaping 
 forward across the gully to where he could stare out 
 over the edge of the bank toward where his enemy had 
 disappeared. Neither man then had seen her; neither 
 had the slightest conception of her presence, yet she 
 dare not move, or attempt to change position; the 
 
 (181) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 slightest motion might mean betrayal. She shrank even 
 closer in the shadow waiting. Would Meager stay 
 there, or go away ? In truth of the two men she dreaded 
 him the least, despising the fellow so thoroughly as to 
 have largely lost her fear. She could face him, fight 
 him, if necessary; he was no more than a cowardly 
 brute, whose measure she had already taken — but 
 Kelleen ! She was actually afraid of him. If she had 
 still retained any lingering doubt as to what he was, 
 that doubt had been entirely vanished by this conversa- 
 tion. The man had worn no mask talking with Bob 
 Meager; made no attempt to disguise himself. She 
 recognized him now as thief, and border desperado, no 
 better probably than those he associated with — and far 
 more dangerous. 
 
 It seemed to Deborah as though that dimly outlined 
 figure standing at the edge of the bank would never 
 move. The fellow was evidently trying to satisfy him- 
 self that Kelleen had really gone, before finally deciding 
 on his own course of action. Darkness was fast shutting 
 down about them like a curtain, and great desert stars 
 began to show overhead. She realized that Meager 
 had slipped his gun back into his holster, and appeared 
 satisfied now that he had been left alone. His actions, 
 and certain muttered words, aroused her interest, and 
 held her in concealment watching his every movement. 
 
 (182) 
 
MORE COMPLICATIONS 
 
 The fellow purposed something — but what? Those 
 surely were night glasses through which he searched the 
 horizon, crossing from side to side of the ravine, and 
 lying flat on the sand while sweeping the circle before 
 him inch by inch. Evidently nothing was discovered 
 to awaken suspicion, for he came back to his horse, and 
 loosened a long rope coiled about the saddle pommel, 
 and, with this on his arm, tramped down the gully, 
 within a yard of where she lay, his figure fading almost 
 instantly into the darker shadows below. 
 
 At the moment the girl scarcely conceived what his 
 mission might be. Her whole mind seemed to concen- 
 trate on the opportunity for escape which his absence 
 offered. If she could attain the horse unnoticed, and 
 once securely vault into the saddle she could be over the 
 bank, and out into the black, noiseless desert almost in 
 an instant. She arose crouching upon her feet, yet 
 hesitated an instant, feeling a sudden curiosity to learn 
 what Meager might be searching for. He could not 
 go far, for the ravine ended abruptly against a rock 
 wall. She had a mental picture of the scene. Good 
 God! could the man be seeking after that narrow open- 
 ing through which she had just escaped? Could it be 
 possible he knew of its presence there? Where it led? 
 the secret of that mysterious tunnel in the cliff? 
 
 If that was not his mission what could he be doing 
 (183) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 now? Why was he so secretive? The whole affair 
 fascinated her — that strange, hidden mine with the 
 dead man lying in the black passage, and its long- 
 bearded, ape-armed guard, peering vigilantly through 
 the vines. Were they all connected together — part of 
 some criminal conspiracy, into the vortex of which she 
 had been innocently drawn ? The opportunity to escape 
 was now open; Meager had entirely disappeared in the 
 darkness; she could no longer even distinguish the 
 sound of the man's movements, while his horse, saddled 
 and bridled, stood unguarded not a dozen yards away. 
 Yet the girl lingered, waiting to assure herself as to the 
 real nature of the fellow's mission. She no longer 
 thought of who he was — her husband; but only of his 
 purpose in that place. 
 
 Forth from the darkness to her strained ears came 
 the sound of a low whistle, a peculiar note resembling 
 the call of a wild bird, quite evidently a signal, as it was 
 repeated three times. To Deborah's imagination the 
 whistler must be bending above the orifice in the rock. 
 There was a pause, the desert silence profound, and then 
 again the same signal impatiently given. Apparently 
 there was no response of any nature from below, and 
 Meager lost control of his caution, for he burst forth 
 in a string of oaths, ending this tirade by calling down 
 into the hole, his voice muffled as though he had inserted 
 
 (184) 
 
MORE COMPLICATIONS 
 
 his head as far as possible within the narrow opening. 
 The words came back indistinct, occasionally lost. 
 
 " Below there ! you Manuel ! Answer me, you damn 
 dog! This is Bob; do you hear? By God, the fool 
 must be asleep. I'll skin you alive if you fail me now. 
 What the hell does this mean?" 
 
 He apparently stood up, or at least lifted his head 
 from out the aperture, for the voice sounded clearer to 
 Deborah. The change startled her so she sprang to 
 her feet, ready for escape before he could return, yet 
 waited another instant, breathless, poised for flight. 
 
 "Damn the luck!" growled Meager to himself, 
 unconsciously aloud, " when I want the fool he fails me. 
 By God ! something must be wrong, but what the hell 
 can I do? I got to find out what's up — that's sure; 
 an' there ain't but one way o' doin' it; I got to git down 
 below, an' damn quick too, before Casebeer gits here." 
 
 Deborah paused no longer. He was coming back; 
 there was no other way if he intended going down the 
 cliff. She ran swiftly through the dark, reckless of the 
 scraggy sage, desperate to attain the horse. The man 
 must have heard her, had some intimation of move- 
 ment in the black night, for he gave utterance to a 
 startled oath, and his feet crunched in the sand. But 
 he was already too late, too far behind. In a moment 
 more the frightened girl had gripped the bridle rein, 
 
 (185) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 flinging it back over the animal's head, and, in spite of his 
 backing away, startled by her sudden appearance, had, 
 in sheer desperation of terror, scrambled into the saddle. 
 The horse wheeled sharply about, maddened by the flap 
 of her skirt, and leaped forward, straight across the 
 gully, and up the sharp incline opposite. She clung tight 
 to the pommel, lying almost flat, letting him bear her 
 where he would. Her eyes caught one glimpse of the 
 man's figure, dim, indistinct, grotesque, racing toward 
 them ; then he fired twice, the red glare lighting up the 
 night. The next instant they were over the top, speed- 
 ing frantically into the inky blackness of the desert 
 night, no sound but the slugging of the animal's hoofs 
 in the soft sand. 
 
 A hundred yards, and she sat up in the saddle, reining 
 her frightened horse in, and staring back through the 
 dark curtain. She had escaped, she was free ! Nothing 
 else mattered. Meager's hasty shots had failed ; neither 
 she nor the horse had been touched. Now he was back 
 there helpless on foot, while she was free, and in saddle. 
 But where should she ride? in which direction? where 
 was safety to be found before daylight? She drew the 
 horse down to a walk, and studied the stars overhead in 
 an endeavor to determine even the points of the com- 
 pass. Her heart seemed to stop beating; how lonely it 
 all was, how deadly quiet, and desolate. 
 
 (186) 
 
MORE COMPLICATIONS 
 
 Was that a sound — there to her left? She stared, 
 half conscious of a deeper shadow looming, yet uncer- 
 tain, checking the sudden spring of her horse. Then 
 she knew, but too late; the black thunderbolt rushed 
 upon her, and a man, leaning from his saddle, had 
 clasped her arm, even as he jerked his own mount 
 almost on its haunches. 
 
 " No shooting, please ! " a voice said a bit sternly. 
 "It is you, then?" 
 
 She suppressed the scream which almost escaped her 
 lips, but her answer faltered. 
 
 "You thought it was I then? You were seeking 
 after me ?" 
 
 " Of course; people scarcely meet by chance here — 
 in this desert and darkness." 
 
 "But why, may I ask, should we meet by either 
 chance, or otherwise?" 
 
 "Inclination may have had something to do with 
 that, and a desire to serve. Am I not somewhat 
 responsible in your case?" 
 
 "I do not care to acknowledge any such responsi- 
 bility. I prefer now to go my own way alone. Do you 
 understand?" 
 
 "You mean those words just as they sound?" he 
 asked, releasing his grasp on her arm, yet only lowering. 
 his hand to her horse's rein. 
 
 (187) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 "The words certainly express my meaning exactly, 
 Mr. Kelleen. Why do you retain hold of that rein ? M 
 
 11 To prevent any attempt on your part to ride away," 
 he acknowledged, a slight coldness in his tone, " at least 
 until we understand each other better. I had up to this 
 minute supposed you were endeavoring to escape from 
 that fellow back yonder; now I learn you were running 
 away from me also. Is that the truth ?" 
 
 She hesitated; then courage returned. 
 
 " I fear you more even than I do Bob Meager," she 
 answered honestly, " and despise you more." 
 
 " That is a pleasant statement. I wonder if I really 
 deserve it? You think I deserted you? left you unnec- 
 essarily? First listen to my explanation — yes, you 
 must; I shall not let you go until you do." He laughed 
 rather bitterly. " Really it surprises me that I take all 
 this trouble. I have never been termed a ladies' man, 
 or cared particularly as to how I stood in their estima- 
 tion. But I deliberately started out to help you, and 
 you are not going to act the fool now, if I can prevent 
 it. Will you listen to me? " 
 
 14 1 know of no way to avoid doing so ; but I prefer 
 that you release my horse." 
 
 He was resting over his pommel endeavoring to see 
 her features through the gloom. Then his fingers 
 relaxed their hold on the rein, and he straightened up 
 
 (188) 
 
 I 
 
MORE COMPLICATIONS 
 
 facing her. They were two indistinct figures, barely 
 discernible. 
 
 "I trust you," he said simply. "You are better 
 mounted than I, and armed, but I will not believe you 
 look upon me altogether as a villain. You had con- 
 fidence in me last night — did you not?" 
 
 "Yes — last night. I was desperate, afraid, and — ■ 
 and I accepted all you told me." 
 
 " I am the same man now," he said earnestly. " I 
 am Daniel Kelleen, just as ready to prove my friendship 
 now as then. You do not believe that? " 
 
 " No, I do not ; I cannot. You insist on knowing why ? 
 There is no reason why I should not explain what has 
 made the difference. Last night I accepted your assist- 
 ance from necessity. I had to escape that ranch before 
 daylight, and you offered the only chance. I — I did 
 not know who you were then — only — only in a vague 
 way. I rather accepted you as an American cowboy, 
 and — and you made me trust you." 
 
 " During our night ride, you mean? " 
 
 "Yes, you told me a little about yourself; perhaps it 
 was not true, but you made me think it was, and I gained 
 confidence in you in spite — in spite of your — your 
 reputation." 
 
 "I see — the * Frisco Kid' business. That was a 
 little off color, wasn't it? If I remember right you go! 
 
 (189) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 my history principally from * Pop ' Reynolds, with all 
 embellishments thrown in. Yet, nevertheless, you 
 managed to like me? Is that it?" 
 
 " I had to trust you then. I tried to believe all you 
 told me, and — and you were nice." 
 
 "Good enough; and then what?" 
 
 " It was not because you left me. I thought I under- 
 stood that; you were seeking to save me from discovery. 
 Yet even then I was not sure, not as confident in you as 
 when we were alone together. I — I began to doubt, 
 to desire to get away from you. Sanchez was too 
 friendly, too willing to acknowledge your leadership, 
 and obey your orders — and — and you knew too much 
 about what was going on here." 
 
 " I did some pretty shrewd guessing, that's true," he 
 said soberly. "I knew enough for that, at least; all 
 Sanchez knew of me was my name, and that I was 
 supposed to be a friend of Meager's. He saw me over 
 at the ranch, and I bluffed all the rest through." 
 
 " He knew you as * Frisco Kid? ' " 
 
 "Of course. It was that individual's reputation 
 which won his loyalty." 
 
 "So I supposed. And I am beginning to believe 
 justly," Deborah said coldly. "You told me a very 
 interesting story, Mr. Daniel Kelleen, which I know 
 now to be false." 
 
 (190) 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 KELLEEN BECOMES MASTER 
 
 KELLEEN made no movement, and for the moment 
 no answer. He had anticipated this outburst, yet 
 was not quite prepared to meet it. Her voice spoke 
 again. 
 
 "You have lied to me, haven't you?" 
 
 "I prefer learning first why you reach this conclu- 
 sion," he replied calmly. " Does it come from my con- 
 versation with Juan Sanchez?" 
 
 "It began there. I could scarcely help suspecting 
 you after listening to what you had to say to that 
 Mexican outlaw. Besides, he discussed you quite freely 
 with his companion in my hearing before you returned. 
 When you did come all you had to say to them only 
 confirmed his statement — you are out here not so 
 much in my protection, but as the representative 
 of Bob Meager. I am merely your plaything en 
 route." 
 
 "You are indeed complimentary. Did I serve 
 Meager, you think by running off with his wife ? M 
 
 " There is no law, or decency on this border where 
 any woman is concerned," she burst out bitterly. " I 
 
 (191) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 have at least learned that. I do not know your real 
 object; only that you are one of this disreputable gang; 
 that you came here to serve its purposes; that I was 
 therefore only an incident — to be lied to, and 
 laughed at." 
 
 " You reached this conclusion from what you over- 
 heard of the talk between Sanchez and myself? Of 
 course I knew you were there." 
 
 " Exactly, and did not even care. Your very insolence 
 was an insult. You believed me then entirely in your 
 power. I had fled with you into the desert. You 
 thought there was no escape possible — that I was 
 already compromised, helpless. You could sit calmly 
 there on your horse, laugh and sneer, and I dare do 
 nothing to protect myself. Then you rode off, and left 
 me — your last glance one of insolent triumph. It was 
 then I fully realized that I was only your victim. I was 
 afraid of you, and I hated you then." 
 
 His voice was very low, very quiet. 
 
 "You lost all faith? You attempted to run away, 
 and hide from me before I could return?" 
 
 " I attempted to get away — yes. I could not remain 
 there; it would even be better to die on the desert. 
 But — but I am not wholly sure I had lost all faith. 
 Nothing was quite clear, but — but I was afraid of you. 
 You had lied to me; I could not trust myself alone with 
 
 (192) 
 
KELLEEN BECOMES MASTER 
 
 you any longer. But since then I have lost all faith — 
 do you know why ? " 
 
 " I can make a guess. You also overheard the talk 
 between myself and Bob Meager." 
 
 "Every word. How did you know?" 
 
 " Because I had glimpse of you as my horse topped 
 the bank. I had sought you everywhere after I finally 
 got rid of Sanchez. The truth is I was still seeking 
 your trail when I encountered Bob skulking there in 
 the gully. Our meeting was not prearranged; it was 
 an accident. Were you there when we first came 
 together?" 
 
 " No ; which is quite fortunate for your story; it gives 
 sufficient scope to your imagination. There was nothing 
 said after I crept within hearing at least to show any 
 serious lack of friendship between you. You talked 
 like partners; and it was not for my sake surely, for 
 neither one had any conception that I was within ear- 
 shot. That is true, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes," Kelleen acknowledged. " It is true so far as 
 it goes. You are perfectly justified in condemning me, 
 as the facts stand in your mind. I am not even going 
 to attempt defending myself. I fear it would be useless. 
 I am merely going to serve you, whether you wish to be 
 served or not. But listen a minute before you cast me 
 off utterly. Will you do that? " 
 
 (193) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 The girl hesitated, biting her lips, angered by his 
 insistence. 
 
 "I cannot very well help listening; I doubt if I 
 believe." 
 
 " Believe or not, as you damn please," he broke forth 
 impatiently. "This is no time, or place in which to 
 play. IVe made up my mind what to do, however you 
 decide — only Fd rather you put some faith in me. It 
 would be easier, and pleasanter for both of us. The 
 truth is I have been white with you — square. I came 
 here seeking refuge just exactly as I explained to you 
 last night. I knew this was a thieves' hole, of course, 
 but had no suspicion that we were going to run into their 
 outfit at this time. But when we did, I had to act along 
 with them. There was no other way. I had you to 
 consider, and I had something else to consider. I lied 
 to them, not to you — to both Sanchez and Bob Meager. 
 They are going to get the surprise of their lives tonight. 
 Now listen. I came back there for you ; I tried to trace 
 you all the afternoon. I do not know how you hid your 
 trail, but there was none to be found. Where did 
 you go?" 
 
 "That is my secret." 
 
 "And you mean to keep it from me? Well, I knew 
 you couldn't be far away, because you had not taken the 
 horse. Finally I decided you must have climbed the 
 
 (194) 
 
KELLEEN BECOMES MASTER 
 
 cliff on foot, and I came up, and ran into Meager. 
 Neither of us was very happy about it, but I had some 
 knowledge of what was on foot from Sanchez. Only 
 Bob wasn't there for that purpose; he pretended to be, 
 but he had something else up his sleeve. You don't 
 know what he was really up to, do you? " 
 
 " No," she said quickly, not willing yet to tell her 
 tale, "why should I ?" 
 
 Kelleen went on, undiscouraged 
 
 M I didn't know how long you were hiding there. I 
 only caught that glimpse of you as I rode away, 
 crouched down behind the sagebrush. But that is why 
 I came back." 
 
 "Because you saw me?" 
 
 "Yes; and because I believed Bob was up to some 
 trick. I even had reason to suspect, did I not, that you 
 two might be there together? " 
 
 She faced him indignantly, sitting straight in her 
 saddle. 
 
 "You thought I would secretly meet him?" 
 
 " Why not ? You evidently believe every evil of me. 
 How did I know you had told the truth? You are his 
 wife, by your own statement. Why shouldn't I suspect, 
 finding you there together? Anyhow I went back to 
 discover the truth. That is why I am here with you 
 now." 
 
 (195) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " Believing what of me?" 
 
 "I hardly know — except not that You were not 
 with him, yet that is his horse you are riding. He fired 
 at you, did he not?" 
 
 " Yes ; he went past me down the gully after you left. 
 It was dark then, and I was not seen. He had no 
 knowledge of my presence. Then I stole his horse and 
 rode away. I doubt if he even knew it was a woman 
 he shot at" 
 
 The listlessness suddenly left her voice. 
 
 " But I am not going with you," she went on coldly. 
 " If you are a man you will not try to urge me. I trusted 
 you last night, but not now. I am not afraid of the 
 night, or the desert." 
 
 "And you are afraid of me?" 
 
 "I am not your kind, Mister * Frisco Kid;' that is 
 all the answer I need make you. Will you let me go ? " 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " I'll find my way; I have a horse, and the stars. By 
 morning I'll be in sight of some point of guidance. 
 Anyhow if the choice is between the cruel desert and 
 you, I take the desert. Am I free to go ? " 
 
 Kelleen laughed. 
 
 " You leave it to me then? Well, I say you are not 
 going. I am not the sort of cur who would let you 
 commit suicide just because you have taken a dislike to 
 
 (196) 
 
 
KELLEEN BECOMES MASTER 
 
 me. You would be lost in ten minutes ; you don't know 
 this country — it's treacherous as hell. Now listen ; you 
 are going to trust me whether you wish to, or not. You 
 needn't like me — that cuts no ice in this affair — but 
 you are going to learn that when I give my word to 
 either man or woman, I'm going to keep it. Now, 
 that's flat. If you want to go back to Bob Meager, all 
 right. I'll take you to him, and we're done. But when 
 you talk of my turning you loose in this desert, to take 
 your chances out there alone, I am the wrong kind of 
 man for any such job. You can hate me all you please, 
 but we stick together, until I get you where there are 
 white folks." 
 
 " I believe I do hate you ! " 
 
 "All right; I don't mind that. Will you do what I 
 tell you to do?" 
 
 The man waited, leaning slightly forward, seeking 
 vainly to distinguish the girl's features. There was no 
 sound but the slight creaking of their saddles, and the 
 breathing of the two horses. They were alone in the 
 great void. He had spoken quickly, almost harshly, 
 and the tone of command had aroused Deborah's resent- 
 ment. The two wills clashed, and neither would give 
 way, or seek compromise. Deep down in her secret 
 heart a bit of faith in this Daniel Kelleen yet lingered, 
 but she was in no mood then to acknowledge it. He was 
 
 (197) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 threatening her; trying to frighten her; endeavoring to 
 force her into his power and she resented it immeas- 
 urably. 
 
 " No, I will not," she said sharply. " Take your hand 
 off my bridle rein ! " 
 
 She struck her mount suddenly, and the startled 
 animal sprang forward, whirling sidewise from the 
 blow, careening against the flank of Kelleen's horse as 
 it swept swiftly past. The next instant the wild race 
 was on through the black night. She heard the man 
 call to her, but the words were indistinguishable; then 
 from behind came the crunch of his horse's hoofs in mad 
 pursuit. And he was gaining, in spite of every effort. 
 She rode recklessly, desperately, lashing her mount with 
 the flapping end of her reins, yet, leap by leap, Kelleen 
 drew closer, riding as he often had before in heading 
 off a wild stampede of cattle, pressing her horse more 
 and more to the right, into a half-circle as he drew near. 
 He had but one aim, one purpose, and his spurs drew 
 blood as he compelled the animal he rode to give its 
 last ounce of strength to the race. Inch by inch they 
 drew closer together, the girl's skirt flapping against 
 his leg; then his iron grip closed on the bit of her horse, 
 and the two animals came to a stop, pawing the air, 
 Deborah retaining her seat only by clinging to the 
 saddle pommel. She was breathless, frightened, angry ; 
 
 (198) 
 
KELLEEN BECOMES MASTER 
 
 but the man was conqueror, and in no mood for 
 compromise. 
 
 "You fool! do you know where you were going ?" 
 he exclaimed sternly. " Straight to the edge of that 
 hole; a dozen strides more and you would have been 
 over. By God ! I got you in time, but that is the last 
 trick you'll play on me." 
 
 "You — you dare speak to me like that — you?" 
 
 The man laughed grimly, the nervous reaction thus 
 finding unconscious expression. 
 
 " Dare ? I'll say I dare. What else could I call you ? 
 You didn't even know what direction you were going, 
 and headed straight for a five hundred foot drop. Now, 
 listen; from now on I am master, and I'll begin right 
 here." 
 
 He jerked the revolver from out the holster at her 
 waist, and thrust it into his own belt. The significance 
 of the action robbed the girl of all defiance ; she suddenly 
 felt weak, helpless. 
 
 " You — you mean I must do whatever you say ? " 
 
 "Exactly that. You came to me at first voluntarily; 
 you asked my help. I brought you here, and I am going 
 to take you out safely. You are at liberty to hate me, 
 or like me, as you please. I am not asking anything but 
 obedience. I tried being a man with you, and it failed 
 to work; now I'll try being a brute, and see what 
 happens." 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 He straightened up in his saddle, evidently startled 
 by something in the distance. She could barely dis- 
 tinguish his figure in the gloom, yet knew that his unoc- 
 cupied hand was pointing to the right. 
 
 "Do you see that?" he asked, his voice tense, and 
 eager. " Down below there — that dull red light ? It's 
 Casebeer's outfit coming in." 
 
 (200} 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 TALKING IT OVER 
 
 SHE stared down at the red glimmer uncompre* 
 hending, her mind still agitated by Kelleen's sudden 
 forcefulness. At first the light seemed to move, to 
 approach slowly, and then to stop. Deborah thought 
 she could perceive figures passing back and forth within 
 its radius. 
 
 "Is — is that down in the gulch? " she asked, the 
 very silence a burden. 
 
 He answered without glancing about. 
 
 "Yes, just below the turn; there is a small cabin 
 there. But I cannot quite make out what the fellows 
 are actually up to. The trail leads straight on, but they 
 seem to be unloading the mules. Does it look so to 
 you?" 
 
 The girl did not reply, unable to distinguish clearly, 
 her mind, in reality, more intent on this man sitting 
 beside her than upon that indistinct scene presented 
 beneath. He had seemingly forgotten her very presence, 
 so deeply interested was he in what was transpiring 
 below, leaning eagerly forward, with eyes never desert- 
 ing the group now showing vaguely within the reddish 
 
 (201) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 glare of the fire, which illumined that little section of 
 the gulch at their feet. Its faint reflection even enabled 
 her to mark the stern outlines of his face against the 
 far-away radiance. Her hostility to the man somehow 
 seemed slipping away. She could not understand what 
 it was which held her there quiet, silent, watching him. 
 The temptation to act came, and passed. It would be 
 easy to snatch that loaded gun from his belt; a single 
 shot would set her free. He was no longer thinking of 
 her; his whole attention was concentrated on that outfit 
 working below. Yet she did not move; just sat there 
 in the saddle, and watched him, wondering at herself. 
 At last a sudden uncontrollable impulse caused Deborah 
 to stretch out her hand, and grasp his sleeve. 
 
 "Who are you?" she asked directly. "You must 
 tell me." 
 
 The man turned his face toward her quickly, 
 impatiently, their leveled eyes meeting in the dim light. 
 
 " I have already told you," he replied, with no marked 
 surprise in his tone. "I trusted you that far; but you 
 chose to disbelieve." 
 
 "But can you blame me if I did?" she exclaimed 
 almost passionately, disturbed once more by his apparent 
 indifference. " It was merely your word pitted against 
 all these others; against everything that has occurred 
 before and since. You are not just. Do you remember 
 
 (202) 
 
TALKING IT OVER 
 
 the things I have heard said about you — about the 
 * Frisco Kid' — before I ever saw you? Stories of 
 crime, of reckless murder, of everything despicable? 
 In my mind you ranked as the most desperately bad man 
 of this border, with a price on your head. If I had 
 known who you were back at the ranch, I should never 
 have ridden a mile with you, not even to escape from 
 Bob Meager, or a charge of having killed him." 
 
 " Go on," he said soberly, as she stopped breathless. 
 " Let's have this out; there is no better time." 
 
 "I never knew until morning; until I finally recog- 
 nized you. Then you told me that story — told it so I 
 almost believed it true, almost trusted you. Really I 
 had to believe, or pretend to believe, for I was there 
 alone with you, helpless to protect myself, unable to 
 escape. I was lost in the desert. Then you talked with 
 that Mexican cutthroat, where I could hear all you said. 
 He accepted you as one of the gang, and even obeyed 
 your orders. He believed Bob Meager had sent you 
 out here. You were certainly lying to someone, and 
 naturally I supposed it must be me." 
 
 11 Why you, may I ask ? " 
 
 "Because the Mexican knew you; I didn't. I was 
 only a woman you had picked up by accident the night 
 before. There was every reason why you should lie 
 to me. When you rode away together, I was sure you 
 
 (203) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 would soon be back alone, and I determined you should 
 never find me there. I made my choice — it was the 
 desert and death, rather than you. You understand 
 what I mean, Daniel Kelleen?" 
 
 "Yes, I understand," quietly. "Go on, let's have 
 it all." 
 
 " Then up above, in that little gully, I ran onto you 
 again, it makes no difference how I happened to be 
 there. It was hours later; I had some time in which to 
 think, and began to wonder if my decision had been 
 right. Perhaps you were deceiving Sanchez, hoping 
 thus better to serve me. I did not know; I doubted 
 everything. Then, in the gathering dark, I crept 
 through that patch of sagebrush, and found you in 
 private conference with Bob Meager. You were 
 surely not playing a part then, for you had no knowledge 
 you were being overheard. Yet you were extremely 
 friendly, you even claimed to be partners — it was the 
 very word used — in this Casebeer affair, and you finally 
 rode away to perform your part of the night's work. 
 After that how could I still retain faith in you ? or trust 
 myself with you ? " 
 
 Kelleen did not answer directly, his gaze leaving her 
 face and turning inquiringly to the strange scene 
 revealed below. He stared at this a moment in moody 
 silence. Then he swung down from the saddle, dropped 
 
 (204) 
 
TALKING IT OVER 
 
 the rein over the horse's head, and stood beside her. 
 
 "I am going to tell you," he said calmly, "if you 
 consent to listen. I think we have ample time to talk 
 this over. I don't know just what those fellows are up 
 to down there, but apparently they are unloading the 
 entire outfit. The only thing I can do therefore is sit 
 here and watch the operation — this is a new deal. Will 
 you trust me enough to dismount?" 
 
 There was something about the man, his quiet con- 
 fidence, his low, even voice, his entire personality, which 
 Deborah found impossible to resist. She earnestly 
 wanted to believe in him, and somehow his very presence 
 restored to her a measure of faith. Hesitating an 
 instant, even shrinking back from any personal contact, 
 her lips refusing a direct answer, she yet permitted his 
 hand to close firmly over her own, and draw her down 
 from the security of the saddle to the common level of 
 the desert sand. Without a word of urging, or explana- 
 tion, Kelleen led her forward to the very edge of the 
 cliff, where an exposed rock, swept bare by the wind, 
 gave them a seat. Directly beneath lay the narrow 
 valley, dimly lighted by that single fire, about which 
 black dots constantly moved, too far away to be clearly 
 visible. Occasionally the faint echo of a voice reached 
 them, but not distinguishable. It was like a scene thrown 
 upon a screen. Kelleen dropped down beside her, 
 
 (205) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 peering first over into the depths, the flicker of the dis- 
 tant flame barely illumining his face. She could not 
 help but mark its strong outline. 
 
 "You really do not understand what is being done 
 down there?" she asked at last, as he held silent. 
 
 " I do not." He glanced aside at her, the trace of a 
 smile on his lips. " In spite of my being so important 
 a part in this conspiracy, I am wholly at sea. If you will 
 only believe that to be true, Miss Deborah, we shall be 
 a lot closer to understanding each other. There is 
 something going on here quite beyond me. I had sup- 
 posed this was a plain case of smuggling war munitions 
 over the line into Mexico. But it isn't. I have been 
 down there, and trailed every foot of that ground. 
 Casebeer's outfit must have come in through that lower 
 pass yonder — beyond the clump of trees," extending 
 his hand, " and the only feasible way to the border lies 
 up the opposite ravine, directly behind the cabin. All 
 they would require here is water for the stock, and a 
 guide. That was to be Sanchez' job. He was to assure 
 them that the way ahead was open, unguarded, and lead 
 them over the safe trail. They need all the rest of the 
 night to make it in." 
 
 " But — but they are unloading the mules." 
 
 "That is exactly what they are doing — all of them; 
 and taking the stuff back into the cabin. They are not 
 
 (206) 
 
TALKING IT OVER 
 
 going on at all; they are going back unloaded. Now 
 what does it mean? Why did Sanchez lie to me about 
 it? and Bob Meager?" 
 
 Deborah sat up straight. 
 
 11 Why shouldn't they lie to you? " she asked quickly. 
 " If you are really what you pretend to be to me?" 
 
 "Because they have no suspicion — they can have 
 none. Not a thing has occurred to arouse such doubt. 
 The game has been played too carefully. It's not that. 
 Meager is endeavoring to double-cross me; I learned 
 that up yonder, but, nevertheless he has not the faintest 
 suspicion as yet that I am not one of his kind. The 
 fellow, together with Garrity, is pulling off something 
 here out of the ordinary, which they want to keep me 
 out of — that's all. It's a thieves' game, which I have 
 butted into at the wrong moment." 
 
 He stopped suddenly; then turned, and placed his 
 hand firmly on her own where it rested on the rock 
 surface, his voice changing. 
 
 " Miss Deborah, there is no masquerade between us. 
 I do not know why I talked to you as freely as I did last 
 night. I must have liked you very much, and trusted 
 you. Anyhow I told you the exact truth, and there is no 
 occasion now to deny it. The more fully you under- 
 stand the situation the greater service you can render — 
 and, first of all, you must repose confidence in me. I 
 
 (207) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 am Daniel Kelleen, a captain in the regular army, who 
 has volunteered for special scouting detail to stop this 
 border work. The character of the 'Frisco Kid' has 
 been made to order, to permit of my thus gaining the 
 confidence of these outlaws. It has worked, and I am 
 absolutely sure, even now, that I am not suspected by 
 any of the gang. The whisper reached me a week ago 
 that munitions were being run through here — that Bob 
 Meager's outfit was doing it; that this was the leak we 
 had been unable to stop. I came up to Nogales ; hung 
 around there in the lowest quarters of the town, picking 
 up stray bits of rumor. Finally I heard about Garrity, 
 learned he was going out to the Meager ranch. His 
 henchman spilt a little, leaving me to believe there was 
 going to be a run made across the line this week — this 
 Casebeer outfit. That's why I came out; that's how 
 Garrity picked me up at Silver Springs, and I rode on 
 with him to Meager's." 
 
 "And that is why you brought me to this dreadful 
 place?" 
 
 " I was trying to accomplish two things at once — yes ; 
 but, frankly I do not know where else I could possibly 
 have taken you in any safety. I didn't know they were 
 already here, but I was prepared for them — if they 
 went on to the border." 
 
 "Prepared? how?" 
 
 (208) 
 
TALKING IT OVER 
 
 She was deeply interested now, impressed by his 
 earnestness. 
 
 " I had sent word to our people from Nogales. There 
 is a narrow pass through the hills on the trail below, 
 which this outfit must use just before they cross into 
 Mexico. There is no other way south leading from 
 here. Early this evening a squad of cavalry got there 
 from the north, and are waiting." 
 
 "And if the outfit they are watching for do not show 
 up tonight, or early tomorrow, what will those sol- 
 diers do?" 
 
 " Hard to tell. My judgment would be to scout up 
 this way, and endeavor to find out the trouble. This 
 halt here has knocked out my plans completely ; my guess 
 at the game has gone wrong. As it is I have the choice 
 of two things — either remain here, and learn what 
 these birds are really up to; or else ride south, bring 
 those troopers back, and round up this entire outfit on 
 general principles. I'd like most of all to discover 
 where Meager is.". 
 
 " Perhaps I can help you." 
 " You ? " lightly. " I hardly believe so." 
 " Don't be so sure; I have a story to tell you yet." 
 Deborah spoke rapidly, clearly, depicting her experi- 
 ences in the concealed tunnel, her escape up the narrow 
 passage leading to the desert level, how she came to be 
 
 (209) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 hidden in the gully, and what had occurred there after 
 Kelleen had ridden away. The captain listened eagerly 
 to her recital of adventure, interrupting the narrative 
 with numerous questions. As she came to an end he sat 
 silent, endeavoring to think the strange situation out, 
 and grasp its meaning. This fresh knowledge brought 
 a new element into the affair, complicating the whole 
 matter. The red flame of the fire below still cast its 
 faint reflection over them, and it was quite evident the 
 men at work down there had not yet completed their 
 task. 
 
 11 You say this was a tunnel ? " he asked finally. " Dug 
 out, you mean?" 
 
 11 The light was too poor for me to tell very much. 
 I thought at the time it might be an ancient watercourse, 
 but work had certainly been done on it. I found a pick 
 and shovel on a heap of loosened rock. Quite a pile of 
 broken stone lay at the farther end, as though it might 
 have been blasted from the wall. I had to climb 
 over it." 
 
 Kelleen drew a long breath, his hand smiting his knee 
 in sudden conviction. 
 
 " By God ! " he said slowly. " I believe it must be the 
 1 Lost Mine.' Meager may have found it, and is trying 
 to keep it to himself." 
 
 (210) 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 ALONE ON THE DESERT 
 
 "fTpHE ' Lost Mine ?'" 
 
 X "Yes; it is a tradition of this country, an old 
 Spanish legend, I believe, but implicitly believed for a 
 hundred years. Men by scores have lost their lives 
 hunting for it from one end of this desert to the other. 
 I heard it talked about more than five years ago, when I 
 was first sent out here from the Point. The story goes 
 that it was fabulously rich, discovered by a Spanish 
 explorer, who carried samples of ore clear to Mexico 
 City. He came there twice with laden mules, but 
 refused all definite information, and the men he took 
 back with him as helpers were never permitted to go 
 beyond the edge of the desert. He would then go in 
 alone, and bring out the ore, a muleload at a time. No 
 one ever tracked him; the only one who made any 
 serious attempt to do so, was found dead. Then one 
 day the discoverer failed to return to camp. He never 
 did come back, and no trace of him was ever found. 
 His name was Alvara, and ever since men have been 
 hunting after 'Alvara's Lost Mine.' " 
 
 "And it was actually here?" 
 (211) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " It must have been ; the old Mexican camp was south 
 there in that canyon where I told you the cavalrymen 
 were waiting tonight. I have had the spot pointed out 
 to me by Mexicans who knew the story well. I am 
 beginning to understand what is up — or, at least, sus- 
 pect what all this may mean. Someone has accidentally 
 stumbled onto this old mine. I don't believe the 
 discoverer could be either Bob, or Garrity. But in some 
 way they got wind of it, and have taken possession. 
 This munition train, supposed to be headed for Mexico, 
 stops here. Casebeer don't know what's up, and don't 
 care. He gets his money just the same, with less travel- 
 ing and danger. Maybe he asks no questions; maybe 
 he knows what's up, and is in on the deal. Anyway, 
 under orders, he dumps the stuff — powder, dynamite, 
 whatever it is — and hustles it out of sight into that 
 cabin. Before daylight comes, his mule train is back 
 again on the desert empty, traveling north." 
 
 "And there is nothing you can do, is there?" she 
 asked. " It is no crime to discover, and work a mine? " 
 
 "No — only, perhaps, that dead man you tell me 
 about; murder is still a crime, even on this border. 
 There is something about this affair which isn't straight; 
 otherwise Garrity and Bob Meager wouldn't be in it. 
 Those guys are playing dirt somehow — it is up to me 
 to find out how." 
 
 (212) 
 
ALONE ON THE DESERT 
 
 Kelleen stood up, advancing to the very edge of the 
 flat rock, where he could look straight down into the 
 deep depression below. The cliffs were faintly tinted 
 red by the flames of the distant fire, and his figure was 
 rather distinctly silhouetted against the upper sky. 
 Deborah called out to him in warning, but he only 
 smiled back carelessly. 
 
 "There's no danger," he said confidently. "The 
 sky back of me is as black as ink. I can't be seen from 
 down below." 
 
 He leaned over, scanning the rock front, and speaking 
 back across his shoulder. 
 
 "There is no movement down there. Casebeer's 
 outfit is not onto the scheme; after they go that stuff will 
 all be carried into the tunnel. Meager will never dare 
 leave it out yonder." 
 
 "What's that place called where the soldiers are?" 
 
 "Box Canyon — why?" 
 
 "I was wondering " 
 
 A sharp spit of fire leaped out of the night beyond 
 the horses, accompanied by a dull report. The startled 
 animals whirled and disappeared in the darkness, but 
 Deborah saw only Kelleen, poised there on the edge of 
 the chasm — saw him fling up both hands, clutching 
 vainly at the air, and then topple over, down into those 
 yawning depths below. She could not even scream, but 
 
 (213) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 some irresistible instinct caused her instantly to roll back 
 from off the stone into the slight depression at its base. 
 In the black darkness of this shallow hole she lay 
 motionless, scarcely venturing to breathe. In her fright 
 and daze she yet comprehended all that had occurred; 
 the shot had come not from beneath, but out of the 
 desert. Kelleen had been killed, the horses stampeded; 
 she was unhurt, but alone. 
 
 It was all over so quickly, the situation barely flashed 
 through her brain, before a voice spoke, a voice familiar 
 and hated. 
 
 11 By God, that got him ! Did you see how he toppled 
 plumb over the cliff? Xhat settles his spying on us, I 
 reckon." 
 
 "Si, senor; but I would swear there was two of them 
 there." 
 
 "You saw two?" 
 
 "No; only the one standing against the light, the 
 Sefior ' Kid.' I know him; but I thought he spoke, and 
 sure, senor, there were two horses." 
 
 " Of course, he stole mine. I had a shot at him then ; 
 but there is no one else here. Damn you, look for your- 
 self, Sanchez! This rock is clean as a billiard table, 
 and there's no place to hide. Where the hell do you 
 suppose those broncs went? " 
 
 "We find 'em when the day comes; they not go far 
 (214} 
 
ALONE ON THE DESERT 
 
 in the desert, sefior. Where the 'Kid* fall — here?" 
 
 Deborah realized that the Mexican had clambered 
 onto the flat top of the rock, and was peering down over 
 the edge, while Meager remained on the sand, 
 impatiently moving about. 
 
 " Well, what do you see ? " he barked finally. 
 
 "Not one damn thing, sefior; black like hell down 
 there — he no live after that." 
 
 Meager laughed, chucklingly. 
 
 " I'll say he couldn't ; not even if he was a cat. There 
 ain't no use our hanging round here. That guy is out 
 of the way, and we'll pick him up an' plant him, after 
 these others clear out. Casebeer's outfit must be through 
 by this time. Go on down, and start 'em back. You 
 paid him?" 
 
 "Si, sefior; he never unload till I do; he what you 
 call ' hard-boil.'" 
 
 14 He's hard-boiled, all right, but by God, he's got to 
 hold his damn tongue over this deal ! I'll go on down 
 with you, and have a final word with him. I'll tell that 
 guy something he'll not forget. Come on; there's 
 nothing more for us to do up here." 
 
 The frightened girl, crushed into the shallow hole, 
 half beneath the shadowing rock, dare not stir for some 
 time. The men might decide to return ; some dim sus- 
 picion might enter their minds, causing them to retrace 
 
 (215) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 their steps. She could see nothing, her face pressed 
 hard against the sand, and the sound of the two died 
 away quickly. At last, unable to remain in that posture 
 longer, she cautiously lifted her head, and gazed about 
 into the darkness. There was nothing to be seen, or 
 heard, and she finally struggled to her feet, clinging to 
 the rock edge for support. It was all plain enough, yet 
 she could not seem to think clearly, and her limbs were 
 so weak they would scarcely support her body. Kelleen 
 had been killed, murdered. Meager had crept up in 
 the dark, and shot the man down in cold blood as he 
 stood silhouetted against that gleam of fire. The victim 
 had toppled over the cliff, and, if not already dead from 
 the bullet, must have been crushed into pulp on the rocks 
 below. 
 
 These facts came home more and more visibly to the 
 girl's mind. She had escaped discovery as by a miracle, 
 and yet to what end? She was alone, lost, without 
 either horse or weapon to aid her in escape. Both 
 animals had disappeared in the desert night, her revol- 
 ver had gone down with Kelleen. But one slender bit of 
 fortune remained — her presence there was still unsus- 
 pected. The man, whose discovery she had most reason 
 to dread, yet believed her back at the ranch, hiding 
 from him behind locked doors, but helpless to escape 
 his return. How she had ever evaded his recognition, 
 
 (216) 
 
ALONE ON THE DESERT 
 
 was a mystery, yet, thank God ! she had ; and this fact 
 alone gave her a slender chance. 
 
 Assured at last that the men had really departed, a 
 measure of strength returning as she moved her limbs, 
 and faced the realities, Deborah crept back upon the 
 flat surface of the rock, and gazed frightened into those 
 dizzy depths below. It was like a nightmare, the horrid 
 memory which haunted her of Kelleen's body whirling 
 down through that glare of red light. But by then the 
 light had faded, the distant fire having died down to 
 red ash, and her eyes were unable to penetrate the 
 gloom beneath. She stared into a black void, seeing no 
 movement, hearing no sound. The awful silence, and 
 loneliness crushed her spirit. 
 
 What could she do? where could she go? Not to 
 those men there in the valley surely ; not to Bob Meager, 
 asking for mercy and release. He was impossible; her 
 bitter hatred of him more intense than ever. To all the 
 wrong done her in the past was added now this brutal 
 murder of Daniel Kelleen — and suddenly, unexpect- 
 edly, the girl realized what this last meant to her. She 
 refused to acknowledge the truth, fought it back there 
 alone in the darkness, yet it would not be altogether 
 ignored. Daniel Kelleen was dead — gone from out 
 her life forever — and there came into her heart a 
 desire for revenge, a mad impulse to fitly punish the 
 
 (217) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 murderer. She longed to become the instrument to 
 prove her loyalty to him by action. Yet how? What 
 was it possible for her to do? 
 
 She stared helplessly about into the dense blackness 
 of the desert, and up at the desert stars overhead, her 
 mind obsessed with these questions. It was no longer 
 herself so much as the aroused memory of him. She 
 would carry on his work; she must at whatever cost. 
 But how? The cavalrymen stationed at Box Canyon! 
 They were waiting for the approach of Casebeer's outfit, 
 or else some word of command from Kelleen. They 
 could not be far away over there — to the south he said, 
 and he had pointed in that direction. The stars would 
 help her to keep the points of compass until daylight 
 came, and then surely she could discern something else 
 to steer her course by. She must go on foot, straight 
 out into the desert; there might not be one chance in a 
 hundred of her going right — yet the one chance was 
 better than remaining there for Bob Meager to find her. 
 She would rather die miserably in the sand waste than 
 feel that wretch touch her again; God, yes, the kiss of 
 Death would be sweet, compared to the touch of his 
 lips. She shuddered at the thought. His wife! the 
 subject of his foul caresses; helpless to repel his lust, 
 his brutal bestiality. She would make the trail; she 
 would go south. This was all that her mind grasped 
 
 (218) 
 
ALONE ON THE DESERT 
 
 clearly — the soldiers were camped at Box Canyon, and 
 Box Canyon was somewhere out there to the southward. 
 To reach them was her only hope. 
 
 She stood up and studied the sky. She knew so little 
 of those stars, they frightened and confused her in 
 their desert brilliancy, and yet she remembered enough 
 to meet her immediate needs. The Big Dipper was 
 easily found, and then the North Star. She must be 
 right for Kelleen had pointed over there, and the direc- 
 tion he had designated coincided exactly with what the 
 stars told. She could not go far wrong if she kept that 
 North Star at her back — she would be going south. A 
 moment she paused, hesitating to take the plunge, a 
 prayer on her lips. How lonely, desolate, black the 
 night was; the very silence seemed to hem her in, isolate 
 her from all the world. Then, with firm-set lips, the 
 girl went forward, plunging her way through the sand, 
 instantly swallowed up in the black desert. 
 
 She plunged on recklessly, desperately, hope dying 
 within her as she advanced. Nothing could guide her 
 now, or save her, but God's mercy. The soundless void 
 through which she moved, the impenetrable black cur- 
 tain enveloping her almost drove her mad. She could 
 not fight the depression, or keep her mind clear. The 
 sand shifted under her feet and twice she fell heavily, 
 tripped by some protruding rock, and left bruised and 
 
 (219) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 - 
 
 breathless. Her advance was blind, uncertain, and she 
 scarcely dared turn her face forward for fear of losing 
 the guidance of that one star by which she endeavored 
 to steer. She was lost utterly, but for that, and, when, 
 for a moment, her eyes strayed, everything became 
 confused, her every sense of direction gone. How long 
 she toiled on, how fast her rate of progress, the girl 
 never knew — the way was uneven, with unexpected 
 depressions here and there, and ridges of rock project- 
 ing through the sand, and occasionally mounds she had 
 to go around. Once she encountered a shallow ravine, 
 stepping off into it unconsciously, and then crawling 
 painfully up the opposite side, cut by sharp splinters of 
 stone, before attaining the level again. For the moment 
 she lost her star, but finally located it once more, and 
 plunged desperately on. 
 
 Then she saw something just ahead of her — a dim, 
 undefinable shadow, which seemed to move. It was so 
 hideous, so grotesque, and shapeless, her very heart 
 stood still with terror. The girl sank to her knees, 
 trembling, with no eyes for anything except that mys- 
 terious moving object. Misshapen, huge, looming oddly 
 through the gloom, it was advancing steadily toward 
 her — a formless something which neither resembled 
 man nor beast. 
 
 (220) 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE BORDER PATROL 
 
 DEBORAH rose timidly to her feet, her heart be- 
 ginning to beat once more, but not with fear. 
 Forth from the darkness came the low whinney of a 
 horse in sudden recognition, while as instantly that 
 horrid shadow took both shape and form. It was a 
 horse, saddled, bridled, the rein trailing along the sand, 
 one of the two animals stampeded by the shot which 
 had killed Kelleen. He had sensed her coming in the 
 desert night, and was even then dumbly welcoming her. 
 The girl went forward slowly, doubtfully, fearful of 
 again startling the animal into flight, but he remained 
 quiet, sniffing at her as she drew near, and she finally put 
 hand on the dangling rein. It was the horse Kelleen 
 had ridden, and Deborah hid her face in his mane, and 
 cried softly, while he turned and rubbed his nozzle 
 against her shoulder in silent greeting. It seemed too 
 good to be true; as though God had led her every step 
 of the way. The sudden reaction left her weak as a 
 child. 
 
 Yet she must go on; there was more cause now than 
 ever before to go on — more hope of success. She made 
 
 (221) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 the effort twice before she succeeded in dragging herself 
 up into the saddle, but the horse stood patiently, making 
 no attempt to break away. Once there the girl's 
 strength came back, and with it, her determination. All 
 was still, deathly still; not a breath of air touched her 
 cheek; the dense night shut them in. Carefully she 
 located the only star she knew; to her mind it seemed 
 utterly wrong in its position, yet she was faithful to it. 
 Half afraid, yet not daring to venture otherwise, she 
 drew the horse about, and rode south. 
 
 The night seemed endless, the black desert eternal. 
 There were times when the girl lost consciousness of 
 everything, except that shining North Star ever at her 
 back. It was her one guide and hope; through it she 
 retained sanity and faith. In that way lay Box Canyon, 
 and those waiting troopers. She dare not ride fast, 
 knowing not what pitfalls were ahead, the course ir- 
 regular, up and down. The horse picked his way in- 
 telligently, the reins lying loose, except as she occa- 
 sionally held him inexorably to the southward. She 
 swayed wearily in the saddle, clinging to the high pom- 
 mel for support, unable to see, yet aware that they 
 crossed shallow ravines, and found passage occasionally 
 along ridges of outcropping rock, and then advanced 
 more easily for long spaces over wide expanses of 
 sand, noiselessly as a specter. It was hard to keep 
 
 (222) 
 
 - 
 
THE BORDER PATROL 
 
 awake, to concentrate, to remember — she had to strug- 
 gle to realize this was not all a dream. 
 
 Then, after seemingly endless hours, the dawn came. 
 Would she ever again forget it? She hardly knew at 
 first what it was. Riding drearily with lowered head, 
 she became dimly aware of a change, a lightening of 
 the gloom about, a dull grayness tinging faintly the 
 black wall of the surrounding night. Almost as she 
 wondered the daylight came, wan and spectral at first, 
 widening her vista on a gray circle as the stars slowly 
 faded from out a multicolored sky. To the left a 
 brightening white light shot up in long streamers, touch- 
 ing with more gaudy tinges the edges of fleecy clouds, 
 while in the other direction a purple haze blended with 
 the deeper shadows along the horizon. It was the com- 
 ing of the sun, rising majestically above the far-off rim 
 of the desert, and she was still moving southward; 
 through the long night hours she had kept the faith. 
 
 Yet there was little of hope, of encouragement, in 
 the picture unrolled before her. Her view gradually 
 spread out in wider and wider circle, but with no relief 
 to its drear sameness, or monotony. Sand, leagues upon 
 leagues of sand, stretched wherever her wearied eyes 
 turned, leveled by the wind, or cast upward in rounded 
 hillocks, but ever gray, depressing, a sea of desolation, 
 dead, unmovable, extending to the far circle of the 
 
 (223) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 overshadowing arch of sky. It was all lifeless, not 
 even a sagebush, or Spanish bayonet visible. No 
 animal moved amid that dreariness, no wing of bird 
 cleaved the air overhead. The great plain was the 
 very personification of death, and the girl's heart sank 
 in despair as the intense loneliness gripped her soul. 
 Where was the end? Was there an end? She began 
 to realize hunger and thirst; to dread the fierce heat 
 of that sun once it reached mid-sky, its rays scorching 
 the hot sands. 
 
 Doubts assailed her. Had she taken the right 
 course? Did Kelleen imply that Box Canyon lay di- 
 rectly south, and had she been led astray, and thus 
 wandered blindly out into the very heart of the desert? 
 Could she, could the horse live through such a day of 
 torture as that rising sun promised? The animal 
 plodded on grimly, with drooping head, unguided now 
 by any pressure on the rein. He must know better than 
 she the route — some instinct surely must lead him to 
 water, if any there was in all that wide waste of sand and 
 sky. Helpless, hopeless, the girl drooped down wearily 
 in the saddle, closing her eyes to the desolation. They 
 plodded on drearily, her mind a chaos, haunted by every 
 memory of horror arising from those swift-occurring 
 events which had led to this tragedy. Her forcible 
 marriage to Bob Meager, the bitter hatred his touch 
 
 (224) 
 
THE BORDER PATROL 
 
 had aroused, his drunken, lustful eyes, the blow she 
 struck him, with murder in her heart, the fleeing like 
 a hunted criminal, desperately seeking escape. Then 
 the coming of Kelleen into her life, strangely, mysteri- 
 ously weaving about her a web of fascination, even as 
 they rode together through the darkness. She had 
 never entirely thrown that off, the odd spell of his 
 presence, his cool, confident words — she felt she never 
 would. Even when she questioned him the most, she 
 still secretly believed; and now that he was actually 
 dead, not so much as the flicker of a doubt remained. 
 
 She saw again that dead man in the cave ; experienced 
 the grip of those savage arms, and once more, in heed- 
 less terror, fired down the black tunnel, and then 
 struggled upward through that awful hole into the light 
 of day. Then all that followed, followed so swiftly, 
 was but a jumble of events, yet each distinct, unfor- 
 gettable, burned on her soul. The talk of those two 
 men in the growing dusk, the certainty of criminal con- 
 spiracy in which they were both concerned; the des- 
 perate effort at escape; the willingness to die on the 
 desert rather than fall again into their hands ; the cap- 
 ture by Kelleen ; his words of faith, confidence, almost of 
 love, restoring her belief in him — and then that shot 
 out of the darkness sending him whirling headlong to 
 his death. True! it could not be true! It must be 
 
 (225) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 delirium, a wild fiction of romance raging in the brain 
 of a half-mad dreamer. Yet this was the desert — the 
 desert ! She lifted her eyes to look, gazing out blindly 
 over the dull gray expanse. Then she suddenly sat up- 
 right in the saddle, shadowing her leveled brows with 
 one hand as she stared straight ahead. What was it 
 over yonder? a tree? a ridge of uplifted rock? Not 
 much, surely, and yet everything in midst of that soli- 
 tude. Her heart beat suddenly with hope. Perhaps 
 that marked the end; perhaps that was where the trail 
 ran — the trail to Box Canyon. If so, God was good! 
 
 The tired horse lifted his head, and whinnied, 
 breaking into a slow trot, the sand crunching under his 
 hoofs. Deborah was wide awake now, alert and ready. 
 Yet it actually was a tree, and the tops of others began 
 to show beyond; their presence promised water, grass, 
 life; that horrid desert left behind. Yet it was a long, 
 dreary ride of an hour before they reached there, com- 
 ing to a shallow valley through which trickled a mere 
 rill, rock strewn, and almost as desolate as had been 
 the desert itself, but with here and there a patch of 
 grass visible, and a few scattered, wind-racked trees. 
 It was a scene scarcely less dreary than the upper plain, 
 yet to Deborah, and her horse, was most welcome. 
 
 The latter came down the slanting bank gingerly, 
 and made for the nearest water hole, the girl slipping 
 
 (226) 
 
THE BORDER PATROL 
 
 quickly from the saddle, and seeking to quench her 
 thirst farther up stream. The water, slightly brackish, 
 but still fairly clear and pure, brought new life, the an- 
 imal wandering about in his fresh environment, nibbling 
 contentedly at the scattered tufts of grass, while 
 Deborah studied her surroundings with awakened in- 
 terest. Old Tom Meager, in their rides together, had 
 taught her some of the fundamentals of plainscraft, 
 how to observe this thing, and that, when alone in the 
 wilds. Now she applied these lessons eagerly, searching 
 for some evidence of that trail which she felt convinced 
 must run up this lonely valley. Nothing could be better 
 adapted to the purpose of these outlaws than the course 
 of this desolate desert stream, a mere thread extending 
 through leagues of sand, lying sufficiently below the 
 level to conceal their movements, and yet furnishing 
 water for their stock. In spite of its windings, the trend 
 of the valley was clearly from south to north, and 
 doubtless for years, perhaps for centuries, way back in 
 the old Spanish days, it might have been the natural 
 highway for desperate riders across the border — 
 rustlers, cattle thieves, smugglers, and runners of con- 
 traband. Surely they must have left some trail behind. 
 But if so no trace remained along the western shore. 
 Convinced of this Deborah, leading her horse, crossed 
 the narrow stream, stepping from rock to rock, and 
 
 (227) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 clambering up the level plateau on the other side. Even 
 here little was visible, and she would have overlooked 
 even these signs but for old Tom's training. Whatever 
 had been the story of the long past, this isolated trail 
 up the valley could not have been used extensively of 
 late — surely no cattle had been driven over it for a 
 year, at least, a tough, wiry grass covering every open 
 spot. Yet evidence was found — the scattered, dead 
 ashes of a fire; the mark of a shod horse's hoof, an 
 open sheaf knife, the blade not yet rusted from ex- 
 posure, and a half-dozen emptied cartridge shells. 
 Later, up stream a few rods, she found where a dozen 
 horses had been tied to a picket rope, stamping their 
 hoofs into the soft sod. But beyond this point the soil 
 ceased, and, whatever trail there was vanished on a 
 surface of hard rock which left no trace. Nevertheless 
 she mounted once more, and rode on, still with her 
 course to the south. 
 
 Two hours later the valley had contracted into a 
 mere chasm running between rock walls, these con- 
 stantly increasing in height on either side of the little 
 stream. Yet the trail followed became plainer de- 
 fined, as along here passing caravans had been com- 
 pelled to proceed in single file, wearing a well-marked 
 depression in the stone. Thousands of hoofs must have 
 done that, and the girl's imagination could but picture 
 
 (228) 
 
THE BORDER PATROL 
 
 the scenes — the dark shadows of the gorge, the gloomy 
 border desolation, the slow-moving cattle goaded for- 
 ward by men on horseback, Mexican raiders, or rustlers 
 from the north, outlaws of all degrees; or perhaps a 
 train of burros, laden with contraband, or ore, armed, 
 desperate men guarding them through the black night 
 passage. Then the mirage faded from her mind in 
 sheer weariness of brain and body. 
 
 How terribly exhausted she was, reeling in the saddle 
 from faintness. She ached from head to foot, and she 
 felt strangely dizzy. Twice she dismounted to bathe 
 her face in the running water, but had found it so dif- 
 ficult to climb up into the saddle again, she dare not 
 venture a third time. She could only cling tight to the 
 pommel, with eyes closed, and let the horse pick his 
 own way along the outlaw trail. Box Canyon ! Could 
 this be Box Canyon? She opened her eyes to look up, 
 the great cliffs towering so high above she could scarcely 
 gain glimpse of a ribbon of blue sky. It was like twi- 
 light where she rode, the walls purplish blue, nothing 
 clearly visible a dozen yards ahead. She shuddered at 
 the dreary loneliness, the awful silence. If this was 
 Box Canyon, then she had come too late — there were 
 no soldiers there. 
 
 She closed her eyes again, struggling for control, for 
 courage, clutching at the pommel to hold herself up- 
 
 (229) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 right. Then the horse stopped as though gripped by a 
 hand, and a voice said shortly. 
 
 " Gee ! but it's a woman. Say, wake up, sister, and 
 tell us what yer' doin , here." 
 
 She stared at him dumbly, a boy in khaki, his hand 
 grasping her bridle rein, a short rifle in the hollow of 
 his other arm, his face featuring astonishment. 
 
 "Asleep, was yer' ? Hell of a place ter sleep." 
 
 "Are you a soldier?" she asked, struggling with her 
 dizziness, "a cavalryman?" 
 
 M Sure — U. S. You're Yank too, ain't yer? That's 
 ^vhat bothers me; now if yer was Mex, I'd know what 
 to do." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Hustle yer on to the Lieut; he an' the rest of 'em 
 are back there." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know," she exclaimed excitedly. "You 
 are here to intercept gun-runners across the line. I — 
 I have been hunting for you all night. He — he is 
 dead— killed." 
 
 "Dead! Who's dead?" 
 
 " Captain Kelleen." 
 
 She reeled in the saddle, everything black before her. 
 The trooper sprang and caught her as she fell. 
 
 (230) 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 "alvara's lost mine " 
 
 KELLEEN lay breathless on his back, staring up 
 uncomprehendingly through the tangled branches 
 of a tree. He was bruised and dazed, scarcely certain 
 whether he was dead or alive, yet dimly aware of what 
 had actually occurred. It all came back clearer, more 
 definite, as the mist left his brain, but he felt no desire 
 to move, to make any physical effort. Every muscle of 
 his body ached, and he felt sick, inert, helpless. The 
 red reflection of the fire yet clung to the face of the 
 overhanging cliff; he could trace it clearly enough 
 through those tree branches, and he shuddered at the 
 distance from where he lay and the rim. He had fallen 
 from there, no doubt of that; his brain grasped the 
 fact, yet without fully comprehending all that had oc- 
 curred. He remembered the spit of flame out of the 
 darkness, the report, the bullet striking him, and the 
 horror of that awful fall, as he grasped madly at the air. 
 And what then? Did he lose consciousness? Did the 
 shock numb his brain ? He must have crashed headlong 
 through those tree limbs, his progress stopped and di- 
 verted, until, by some fate, his bruised and battered 
 
 (231) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 body had been flung here, like a bit of driftwood on the 
 beach. 
 
 He extended his arms, and felt about to be sure — 
 yes, he lay there on a shelf of earth, out of which that 
 tree grew; the gnarled trunk was within reach of his 
 hand, and another tree, a smaller one, was at the left. 
 It was so dark there he could see little, yet that fire was 
 still below, and, if he should roll off, he would have an- 
 other sheer drop, God knew how far. He dare make 
 no effort to turn over. How badly was he hurt? He 
 felt cold perspiration bead his face, but when he tested 
 his limbs they responded, not without pain to be sure, 
 yet there were evidently no bones broken. The knowl- 
 edge heartened him instantly. But he had been shot. 
 He recalled that clearly — the sickening sensation as the 
 ball struck, the very force of impact hurling him over. 
 It was his left side; it must have been his left side, yet 
 he was conscious of no special pain there — perhaps 
 the flesh was numbed by the shock. He dreaded to 
 learn the truth, yet forced himself partially to sit up, 
 and examine. There was a hole in the coat, but none in 
 the shirt beneath; the flesh was untorn, but painful to 
 the touch, and decidedly swollen. The bullet had 
 struck him, but failed to penetrate; had been deflected 
 by something — his watch! Surely; he carried it there 
 in his upper coat pocket. His fingers drew the wreck 
 
 (232) 
 
'ALVARA'S LOST MINE 
 
 forth, and the bullet dropped into his lap ; he picked it 
 up — caliber .44 — with a queer feeling of horror, 
 and then placed it in a pocket. The ruins of the watch 
 smashed beyond repair he flung away. For the mo- 
 ment he was dazed, what it all meant remained vague 
 and confused. 
 
 Kelleen began to understand, and his mind to func- 
 tion. He was not killed, not even seriously hurt. He 
 had been almost miraculously saved; but now he must 
 serve himself. He harbored no doubt as to who had 
 shot him, or why. The very manner in which it had 
 been done, out of the concealment of the night, revealed 
 the method of Bob Meager. It was his fashion, his 
 style; the way of a coward who never met his enemies 
 face to face. Yet why should the fellow have held him 
 as an enemy? The only answer Kelleen could find to 
 this query was Deborah. The fellow must have seen 
 and recognized the girl as she flashed past him on 
 the stolen horse; he must have followed bent on re- 
 venge, discovered them together, and in sudden anger 
 fired the shot. There was no other satisfactory explana- 
 tion. Bob had not previously known the woman had 
 left the ranch; he believed her still there, hidden in 
 his stepmother's room, his helpless victim on his return. 
 Otherwise the man had nothing against Kelleen, had 
 no suspicions of him, except possibly a desire that he 
 
 (233) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 keep out of this particular affair. That surely was not 
 sufficient to justify an attempt at cold-blooded murder. 
 No, it must be the girl. 
 
 And what had become of her ? Kelleen had no recol- 
 lection of a second shot, so it was altogether probable 
 she had been spared, and was again a prisoner in the 
 hands of her brutal husband. If so, no greater service 
 could be rendered the girl than an exposure of Bob 
 Meager's rascality. With the fellow once safely in 
 the hands of the law she would obtain release, and the 
 opportunity of escape if she so desired. And he felt no 
 doubt as to her desire. The man had taken her by 
 force; her earlier dislike had been changed into hatred 
 — and — and — since then another impelling force 
 might have come into her life. Kelleen smiled, sitting 
 up in the darkness, his mind dwelling over the memory 
 of those hours they had passed together. He realized 
 suddenly how much he already cared for her, how 
 deeply her womanliness had impressed him; what it 
 would mean if she should turn back to Bob Meager. 
 
 The very thought of such a possibility nerved him to 
 action, to forgetfulness of his bruises. He had seen 
 that in the depths of her eyes he would never forget; 
 he would live to read that message again. The memory 
 was inspiration, and hope. But where could he turn? 
 Where could he go? He was one man pitted against 
 
 (234) 
 
ALVARA'S LOST MINE 
 
 twenty at least, his only advantage being Meager's be- 
 lief that he was dead, and safely out of the way. He 
 must remain unseen, undiscovered, until he learned the 
 truth. His mind grasped the situation swiftly, as he 
 planned his own course of action. There was no rea- 
 son why Casebeer's outfit should remain in the valley; 
 they had already unloaded, and stored away out of sight 
 whatever they had to transport. Their whole interest 
 must be to get safely away on the back trail before day- 
 light. Already the fire had died down into mere embers, 
 and, he believed, a part at least of the pack train had 
 departed. After they all had gone only Meager, and 
 his small party, would be left behind. How many there 
 might be of these Kelleen had no means of knowing, 
 yet it was scarcely probable many were in the secret of 
 what was going on — Meager himself, Sanchez, and 
 one or two others perhaps; not enough to prove par- 
 ticularly dangerous, if they did not even suspect his be- 
 ing alive. Tomorrow surely that squad of cavalrymen 
 must appear from Box Canyon; they would scout up 
 this way if nothing occurred to detain them. Those 
 were their orders, and, if they followed the trail, they 
 could scarcely fail to reach this hole in the desert. All 
 he needed to do in the meanwhile was to discover ex- 
 actly what this gang was up to, and then wait. 
 
 To his mind the key of the whole mystery must lie 
 (235) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 in that cave tunnel described by Deborah. If he could 
 once probe into its secret the whole strange case 
 would be solved. Meager had endeavored vainly to 
 communicate with whoever was on guard below, and 
 failed. Perhaps the fellow was lying there in the dark- 
 ness dead, struck by that wild bullet the girl had fired. 
 Bob had no time to investigate then, to learn the truth 
 — he had been led out into the desert in his chase after 
 the flying horse. Even now he might be delayed by his 
 prisoner; by his final settlement with Casebeer; by the 
 urgent necessity of seeing that everything was carefully 
 stored, and out of sight, in that hut yonder. If any in- 
 vestigation was to be made, it must be attempted now — 
 he would take the chance. 
 
 To decide with Kelleen was to act The peril of the 
 adventure scarcely occurred to him; his life had long 
 before inured him to danger. All he sought was op- 
 portunity. Slowly, cautiously, keeping well back in 
 the shadow, he lowered his body down the face of the 
 cliff, taking advantage of every irregularity, outcropping 
 rocks giving him foot and handhold, until he finally 
 reached the firm turf below. As he glanced back over 
 his course, marking the high outline of the crest against 
 the lighter sky above, the memory of that awful plunge 
 over the edge, left him for an instant sick and nerveless. 
 Then he drove the recollection from him with a bitter 
 
 (236) 
 
'ALVARA'S LOST MINE 
 
 laugh. What odds ! he was alive ; he would pay the debt. 
 He could not stand there like a frightened child in the 
 dark. He moved on in the depth of the cliff shadow 
 with eyes searching the gloom, and ears listening for any 
 sound. 
 
 In that darkness he scarcely realized where he was, 
 yet, when he came to it, experienced no difficulty in 
 recognizing the mound on which he and Deborah had 
 taken breakfast together. He climbed the sloping side 
 cautiously on hands and knees, his revolver drawn, and 
 clenched in nerveless fingers. The man was cool now, 
 and ready, advancing steadily through the maze of 
 rocks strewing the surface, until he felt out the slight 
 evidences of a trail. Here was where Deborah must 
 have attempted her retreat, as it skirted the face of the 
 cliff, which bulged out above him. The front was draped 
 with clinging vines, while below he found a tangle of 
 bushes, almost impenetrable. Kelleen crept along these, 
 vainly seeking some opening, and, finally, in despair, 
 pressed them aside, crawling noiselessly into the dark 
 covert, seeking that opening in the rock which must be 
 hidden somewhere beyond. Its discovery eluded him, 
 and it was not until he ventured to stand erect, feeling 
 above the lower barrier of rock, that he really convinced 
 himself of its existence. He stood hesitatingly, his 
 heart thumping from excitement. There was no sound 
 
 (237) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 of movement within — only profound silence, and im- 
 penetrable darkness. Yet surely this could be no 
 storage house, no mere receptacle for stolen goods as 
 he previously had imagined. There was no beaten trail 
 leading to it; no dead, trampled vines, no pathway 
 opening through the shrubs. The secret of the place 
 remained hidden, its shield undisturbed. Whoever 
 came here must have weaved their way as carefully as 
 he had, concealing all evidence of passage, leaving no 
 trail behind. 
 
 What then did that darkness conceal? What did it 
 really mean? Crime, beyond a doubt — yet of what 
 nature, what degree? He could only learn within. 
 With teeth clenched, and automatic ready, Kelleen 
 drew himself up to the top of the barrier rock, lay 
 there flat for a moment, peering into the blackness, and 
 then slowly lowered his feet to the surface below, 
 groping blindly about with extended hand, which 
 touched nothing. It was a ghastly place in which he 
 stood with back to the wall staring into the intense 
 darkness. He had no conception of what lurked be- 
 hind that black, impenetrable curtain — whatperil, what 
 surprise. Somewhere within there lay a dead man, per- 
 haps two; and, quite possibly, others not dead, but 
 desperate and murderous, waited him along the grim 
 passage. Perhaps they already knew of his entrance, 
 
 (238) 
 
'ALVARA'S LOST MINE 
 
 and crouched there in readiness to strike. He must ac- 
 cept the chance and go on. 
 
 In spite of the shrinking of his flesh, Kelleen began to 
 advance, feeling with his feet, and keeping one hand 
 against the rough side wall. It was a tunnel beyond all 
 doubt, leading at first straight into the cliff, the sides 
 chipped and irregular, leaving to the touch of his fin- 
 gers, the ridge marks of a pick. Men had toiled here, 
 not nature, and had plainly left their handiwork. 
 When? how long ago? what had become of them? 
 "Alvara's Lost Mine!" The words seemed to burn 
 themselves on his mind, and before him arose a vision of 
 the old Spaniard working there alone in the long years 
 ago. Could it be possible? After all this time had he 
 actually rediscovered that ancient storehouse of fab- 
 ulous wealth, that golden treasury of which all northern 
 Mexico had dreamed ? And what of Alvara ? He had 
 disappeared men said; died in the heart of the desert; 
 went forth never to return. Had he met that mysterious 
 death here in this black hole, surrounded by his golden 
 treasure? Did he lie there in loneliness through the 
 long years since? and was he there still on guard over 
 his treasure? 
 
 Kelleen stopped, holding his breath, conscious of the 
 perspiration beading his face. Was the place ac- 
 cursed? Did Death lurk there mockingly, eager for 
 
 (239) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 another victim ? He cast aside the thought with a ges- 
 ture of bitter scorn. All image of the supernatural left 
 him, and in its place came men. What was Meager, 
 and his outfit doing here ? That was what he must face 
 and learn — not how Alvara died. He went on, cau- 
 tiously, blindly, the darkness closing behind. God ! how 
 still it was ! Was that a stealthy movement off there to 
 the left? The man wheeled about, revolver swung up, 
 and stood poised and breathless. Straight into his eyes 
 leaped a blinding burst of flame. 
 
 (240) 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 A DUEL IN THE DARK 
 
 KELLEEN staggered backward, yet instinctively 
 fired at the black, almost shapeless, shadow, re- 
 vealed an instant in the flame. The speeding bullet had 
 missed him by a hair's breadth, yet in the second of 
 startled surprise he retained no power of action. He 
 had seen the man crouched against the farther wall, a 
 mere black blot, almost unrecognizable. Then that 
 awful darkness again, and silence. With his first return 
 of strength he stepped swiftly to one side, stooping low, 
 and listening for the slightest movement. His heart 
 almost ceased to beat. 
 
 Somewhere within that impenetrable curtain the fel- 
 low waited, listening eagerly, probably uncertain still as 
 to the effect of his shot. Kelleen was not sure of his 
 position, yet somewhere, almost within arm's length, 
 murderous and determined, a ready weapon in his 
 hands, the man was endeavoring to locate him, with a 
 desire to kill. It was to be a duel to the death in the 
 dark. Both would never leave that tunnel alive ; there 
 was no way of getting out, no opportunity for escape. 
 Any attempt would only reveal the position, and invite 
 
 (241) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 a swift shot. But was the man alone? What other an- 
 tagonists lurked in the blackness? If there was but 
 one, then they stood on equal ground — both armed, 
 both blinded. He must accept the chance. Slowly, 
 cautiously, not making the slightest sound, he moved 
 stealthily in toward that left-hand wall near which he 
 had perceived the dim figure. He touched the rock with 
 outstretched hand, and stopped in dread uncertainty. 
 Out of the void came nothing to guide him. 
 
 He waited a minute, two minutes — it seemed an 
 age — leaning forward, every nerve tense, his very 
 breath suspended, nervous finger on the trigger. God! 
 the fellow could not long remain motionless where he 
 was ; he would never dare. Unless that chance shot had 
 gone home? The mere suggestion leaping into the 
 brain brought to the hunted man a flash of courage. It 
 might be, dim as his mark had been, hurriedly as he 
 had fired, the chance shot might have told, leaving the 
 fellow dead on the rock floor. He had heard no sound, 
 no groan, no muffled fall, yet men sometimes died 
 silently, instantly — there was a hope, a possibility. 
 
 He could not stand there cramped, with poised 
 muscles, waiting for nothing, staring helplessly about 
 into that blackness. He must know, act, learn the truth 
 at whatever cost. He could bear that strain no longer. 
 He advanced an inch at a time, feeling forward with 
 
 (242) 
 
A DUEL IN THE DARK 
 
 groping foot, still obsessed by the idea that thus he 
 might encounter an outstretched body on the floor. He 
 had gone a foot, two feet, three; then, suddenly his 
 foot dislodged a pebble, which grated sharply in the 
 intense stillness. Instantly the tunnel flamed again; he 
 felt a sting in his shoulder, the impact driving him flat 
 against the side wall — but he saw his man, and was 
 ready. Firing once he leaped forward, grappling for 
 the dim shadow as the darkness closed them in again. 
 
 Kelleen's clutching fingers got grasp on an arm, 
 which tore itself free. The butt of a rifle, wielded 
 savagely, crunched into his chest, but the fellow 
 stumbled as he struck the blow, and Kelleen's hand 
 found grip once more in a mass of long hair. From 
 then on it was a wild, blind struggle, silent, merciless, 
 brutal, in which neither man gave, nor asked, quarter, 
 instinctively realizing it was to the death. Kelleen's 
 weapon was crushed out of his hand against the wall, 
 his knuckles dripping blood, and he heard his antag- 
 onist's rifle crash to the floor the first minute of struggle. 
 They closed desperately with bare hands, unable to 
 break away, Kelleen's fingers clinched in the long 
 beard, the other driving his fist again and again into his 
 face in mad effort to make him release the grip. 
 
 They swayed back and forth, tripping over a pile of 
 debris, crashing against the wall, exerting every ounce 
 
 (243) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 of strength, breathing in gasps, but speechless. Kelleen 
 lowered his head, thrusting it under his opponent's up- 
 lifted chin, and with one free hand struck with all the 
 power he possessed. As he did so iron arms crushed 
 him — such arms as he had never felt, like bars of steel 
 — and the lunging body of the man seemed to force him 
 irresistibly backward. Inch by inch he had to give, 
 fighting desperately, hopelessly, to retain his feet; then 
 suddenly crashed over into the darkness, the other fall- 
 ing full upon him, now gripping with one hand at his 
 exposed throat, the other fumbling at his waist. The 
 knife ! the knife ! It must be the knife the fellow sought. 
 What came next Kelleen never knew. He fought in 
 delirium, in unconsciousness, the very breath crushed 
 out of him, unable to break that strangle hold, or twist 
 his body from underneath. He knew he touched the 
 knife handle ; that he reached it first, struggling to re- 
 tain his grasp beneath the fierce pressure of the other's 
 gripping fingers. In some way he must have turned 
 partly, squirming on one side, so as to jam the fellow's 
 hand between his hip and the hard stone floor. In that 
 instant he had jerked the blade free, and slashed 
 viciously at the huge bulk above him. Again and again 
 he drove in the steel, knowing not where he struck, but 
 feeling a wild exultation as the limbs gripping him re- 
 laxed, and hot blood spurted on his hand. There was 
 
 (244) 
 
A DUEL IN THE DARK 
 
 no moan, no outcry, but at last the man rolled over side- 
 wise, and lay still. 
 
 With the instant all strength left Kelleen. The knife 
 dropped from his fingers, and he rested motionless, 
 scarcely breathing, his eyes staring up into the dark. 
 He had won; he was not seriously hurt, yet for the 
 moment could not even realize his victory. It had come 
 so suddenly, so unexpectedly he could not credit the 
 truth. He had been crushed helplessly, gripped in those 
 merciless arms, smothered by that body, his throat held 
 in a vise. Every hope had left him, and then — this 
 silence, this panting for breath, this slowly returning 
 consciousness. Yet gradually he knew; the knife, he 
 had wielded — the knife — he had killed the man. 
 Whoever he was he had killed him ; he lay there now be- 
 side him in the dark — dead. The very horror of it 
 started anew the blood in his veins, that dead man lying 
 there, motionless, becoming cold, with open eyes staring 
 up at the tunnel roof. And he had killed him — killed 
 him with the knife. Yet it had been a fair fight, man to 
 man, and one of them had to die. He could breathe 
 better now, and he sat up, trembling and shrinking back 
 from contact with the dead body. He could not see 
 it, but he knew it was there. 
 
 Then the doubt, the fear, the questioning horror 
 passed away. He laughed at himself for having been 
 
 (245) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 so unnerved. He had seen dead men before, and this 
 had been a fair fight. His groping hand touched his 
 own revolver, and he thrust it back into the sheaf at 
 his waist mechanically, yet with a sudden sense of relief. 
 Surely there were no others in the place; they would 
 have heard the firing, the sound of struggle. He was 
 safe enough then — for the present; but he must make 
 sure. He hesitated for some time, his nerves shattered 
 and failing to respond to his will. The silence and dark- 
 ness made it hard to get a grip on himself — he had a 
 sense of being buried alive there with a corpse; of being 
 himself half paralyzed. Yet finally the brain forced 
 the trembling hands to action. He must see the face of 
 the man he had fought and gain one glimpse, at least, of 
 his surroundings. 
 
 Kelleen struck a match which gave forth at first a 
 dim, spectral light between his trembling fingers, then 
 glowed into a sudden flame. He thrust it forward over 
 the body of the dead man, and stared down at the up- 
 turned face. For a moment not a muscle relaxed, his 
 form that of a statue, as his eyes searched those ghastly 
 features. Where had he seen the man before? that 
 hairy face? those long, misshapen arms? Dead! of 
 course he was dead — but who was he? Somewhere in 
 his memory, dim, indistinct, clung a recollection which 
 would not become wholly clear. The match flickered, 
 
 (246) 
 
 
A DUEL IN THE DARK 
 
 throwing weird shadows, the flame creeping slowly up 
 the splinter of wood until it burned his hand. He cast 
 it from him, and crouched there again in pitch blackness. 
 Then the vision came, his lips uttering a startled ex- 
 clamation. 
 
 "By God! I know now; it's Manuel Gomez! It's 
 the ape-man ! " 
 
 Manuel Gomez — the murderer, the outlaw, the 
 dread scourge of northern Mexico, that bloodthirsty 
 wretch, whose crimes had made him an object of de- 
 testation on both sides of the line for years. Manuel 
 Gomez, the killer of women and children, the destroyer 
 of towns, raider, thief, bandit, and insurrecto — the 
 ape-man ! Kelleen had never seen him before, but he 
 knew; there could be no other like that, and every story 
 he previously had heard of the fellow came trooping 
 back to his mind in vivid memory — cruel, remorseless, 
 without mercy, hunted like a wild beast, yet ever escap- 
 ing the toils, he had left a trail of blood over all that 
 land. Well, he was dead now ! Yet how came he to be 
 there? Was this his hiding place? or was the man 
 there for some new crime? If so — what? And Bob 
 Meager? Juan Sanchez? were they also sharers in his 
 villainy? Could they be members of this fiend's gang? 
 Was it from here he led his hellhounds over the desert 
 and plain? 
 
 (247) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 The recurrence of these names instantly brought back 
 to Kelleen a realization of his own peril. Gomez was 
 dead, killed by his hand. Unwittingly, unknowingly, 
 there in the dark, in desperate combat, he had avenged a 
 hundred murders by the thrust of a knife. But these 
 others — they were still alive; they would surely come. 
 There could be no doubt of that. All that Deborah had 
 told flashed across his mind — her encounter with this 
 same Mexican ruffian — why she had even described the 
 fellow's long, apelike arms, but he never once had 
 thought of Gomez — of her creeping onward along the 
 tunnel; the sudden change in its direction, and her 
 stumbling over a dead body in the dark. He recalled 
 the story of her escape, creeping up that narrow passage, 
 through which she could barely squeeze her slender 
 body; the firing after her from below, and her aimless 
 shot sent in return; then the desperate struggle which 
 ended on the desert above. And what then? Meager, 
 Bob Meager, going straight to that same hole and call- 
 ing down for Manuel — using his very name. 
 
 Well, there was no Manuel now on guard there, but 
 he could not face these other two alone, and they would 
 surely be there by dawn at least. Kelleen searched 
 about on hands and knees for the gun Gomez had 
 dropped, but could not locate it in the darkness. He 
 arose to his feet, still dazed and confused, hardly able 
 
 (248) 
 
A DUEL IN THE DARK 
 
 to tell directions, but driven by a wild impulse to escape, 
 to get safely out of that silent blackness, that grave, in 
 which he felt smothered and imprisoned. He wanted 
 to breathe the fresh air, to look up at the wide arch of 
 sky. He endeavored to find his way, circling the dead 
 body, and feeling with one hand along the rock wall. 
 His groping fingers discovered a crevice in the stone, 
 as though the solid rock had been rent asunder, a deep, 
 irregular gash yawning the length of his arm. He even 
 advanced a step into the strange fissure, wondering at its 
 existence, tempted to explore its secret, when they came ! 
 He heard them pressing aside the vines, and clambering 
 to the top of the rock which helped conceal the entrance. 
 They did this apparently without fear, with no impend- 
 ing sense of danger, and then dropped to the floor of 
 the tunnel. There were two of them ; he could tell that 
 by the sound — Meager and Sanchez. But where then 
 was Deborah Meredith? . 
 
 (249) 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE LIGHT GOES OUT 
 
 KELLEEN waited in an agony of suspense, his 
 thought with the missing girl, rather than on his 
 own peril, or the nearness of those men groping blindly 
 toward him in the darkness. That they were surprised, 
 startled at not being greeted by Gomez, was plainly 
 evidenced from the first gruff utterance reaching his 
 ears. 
 
 "Where the hell is the fellow?" Meager exclaimed 
 angrily. " I told you I called him from up above, and 
 got no answer. Now, by God! he isn't even down 
 here." 
 
 " Oh, he's here all right. There was no chance for 
 his getting away without our knowing it. We had our 
 men about here all the time." 
 
 " Your men ! " Meager laughed scornfully. " Those 
 greasers; they would only be playthings for Manuel. 
 Hell, man ! you and your gang couldn't even keep your 
 eyes on * Frisco.' " 
 
 " I supposed you sent him," retorted Sanchez, with a 
 Spanish oath. "I thought he was in with us. Why 
 shouldn't I? He blew into the ranch along with the 
 
 (250) 
 
 
THE LIGHT GOES OUT 
 
 judge, an' you seemed damned glad to see him. You 
 two been together before, so sure I took it he was in on 
 this trick. Then the fellow rode into me the next morn- 
 
 ing " 
 
 "And threw sand in your eyes." 
 
 "He sure told me one damn straight story. He 
 seemed to know about all was going on. I'd heard a 
 lot about him, knew he was a friend of yours, and sup- 
 posed him all right.' , 
 
 "And spilled all you knew — damn a Mex, anyhow.'* 
 
 "Well, ain't he?" 
 
 "Ain't he what? He ain't nothing just now. I did 
 run with him a bit, of course, down below the line. But 
 he wasn't invited into this game, and his being with 
 Garrity was just an accident. At least I took it that 
 way at first. Now I sorter reckon it maybe was all a 
 put-up job. I ain't exactly made up my mind what the 
 guy was up to — just suspected something was going on, 
 and decided to butt in, I reckon. But, after he got out 
 here snooping around, there wasn't nothing to do but 
 put him out o' the way — specially after he stole my 
 horse." 
 
 M I ain't so sure he stole the horse." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Just what I told you before. You're so bull- 
 headed nobody can tell you nothing. I never did think 
 
 (251) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 that fellow you shot was alone. He was talking to 
 somebody when we crept up — I heard him." 
 
 " Talking to himself ; you never saw nobody but him." 
 
 "No, I didn't; he was upon that rock against the 
 sky, but there might have been somebody else out o' 
 sight on the ground. You was in such a damn hurry 
 to get to Casebeer, you wouldn't do anything else." 
 
 " Course, I knew the ' Kid ' was alone, and after that 
 tumble he took wouldn't bother no more. We had to 
 get Casebeer's gang out of here before daylight." 
 
 "I don't know why. You haven't told me much. 
 Why didn't you let the outfit go on? What did you 
 want to unload the mules here for? and then send them 
 back?" 
 
 " I didn't get any chance to tell you. It was after 
 you left last night that I got the dope. That's why I 
 had to ride out here myself, by God, on my wedding 
 night." He laughed out loud. " Say, Sanchez, there's 
 some real girl, let me tell you. Thinks she's knocked me 
 out; rapped me with a gun when I was drunk, and got 
 away. Damned if she didn't, the little vixen. I've got 
 to go back and show her what kind of a he-man I am 
 when I'm sober." 
 
 " She got mad at you ? " 
 
 " Rather that. I thought she was the soft sort, but 
 she's a wildcat. Got me the first swipe, but she'll never 
 
 (252) 
 
THE LIGHT GOES OUT 
 
 find me so dead easy the next time. I'll teach her who's 
 boss when I get this job out of the way. What was it 
 you asked?" 
 
 " Why you stopped Casebeer?" 
 
 " That's what Garrity came to tell me. He'd got on 
 to something. There's a leak somewhere. We couldn't 
 get the stuff through tonight — a bunch of cavalry are 
 up in Box Canyon." 
 
 "Hell! What brought 'em there?" 
 
 " The judge didn't know. He got it from somebody 
 at the post. The outfit started south, but that's where 
 they were bound." 
 
 "You don't suppose they know?" 
 
 "Sure not — only suspect that stuff is being run 
 through again along this trail. All we got to do is lie 
 low awhile." 
 
 11 No one has seen Gomez ? " 
 
 u He hasn't put his head out of this hole. You 
 haven't seen him yourself, Juan. Come on, he must 
 be back in there asleep somewhere now likely. Keep 
 one hand on the wall." 
 
 " Shall I strike a match, senor ? " 
 
 "No, not here; wait till we turn the bend; then it 
 will not show outside. Can't be long now till daylight 
 comes. " 
 
 Kelleen silently pressed into the rift of the rock, the 
 (253) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 dead man at his feet, could mark the passage of the two 
 clearly by the scraping of feet as they groped their way 
 along the stone floor. Following the opposite wall they 
 would miss any contact with Gomez' body, and there 
 was nothing he could do but stand, and let them pass. 
 Twice he lifted his weapon tempted to venture a shot 
 through the darkness, but the risk was too great; more- 
 over he had a wild desire to learn more, a suspicion that 
 he was on the verge of discovery — if something would 
 only cause them to talk. 
 
 Already from the few words overheard he had ar- 
 rived at one conclusion — the running of munitions into 
 Mexico was a mere subterfuge, a side issue of no great 
 importance compared with some other scheme they had 
 in view. Kelleen could only guess at this, yet it cer- 
 tainly must center about Manuel Gomez. If this was 
 the hide-out of that outlaw, the tunnel must contain 
 treasure, the spoils of numerous robberies. The fellow 
 was leader of a gang which had sacked cities, devas- 
 tated churches, held citizens for ransom, terrorized 
 whole provinces; there was no limit to the wealth he 
 might have hidden away. If Meager and Sanchez were 
 members of his gang, or if they had discovered this 
 secret by accident, they might be playing now for big 
 stakes. And Garrity! surely Garrity would have a 
 hand in any deviltry which might be conceived. He 
 
 (254) 
 
THE LIGHT GOES OUT 
 
 was in position to warn them of any danger, to decide 
 the proper moment in which to act. Dangerous as his 
 position was, Kelleen, with these suspicions surging 
 through his mind, could not resist the impulse to linger 
 a few moments longer. His whole life had been ad- 
 venture, and he took the chance on one more. With- 
 out it he hardly felt that he lived. 
 
 The two men had turned the sharp corner, the slight 
 sound of their movements ceasing to reach his ears. 
 Then the faint glow of a match reflected along the rock 
 wall, the silence broken by Meager' s voice. 
 
 "There's the lantern, Juan — in that niche, see. 
 Here, turn up the wick." 
 
 The flame brightened suddenly, but the outer tunnel 
 yet remained black. Only in the distance the light 
 flickered along the walls, casting weird shadows. One 
 of the men evidently held the lantern up, peering about 
 curiously. 
 
 "He's not here, senor; where's the old devil, any- 
 how?" 
 
 "Damned if I know," anger in the gruff tone. 
 " Something is wrong here. By God ! Suppose he has 
 skipped out?" 
 
 "How could he? We watched always. He trusted 
 you, senor?" 
 
 "Hell, of course not!" 
 
 (255) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " You know where the stuff is ? He never went away 
 without that." 
 
 "Sure not, Juan; but I don't know. The old devil 
 was too smart to let that secret out. That was our job 
 now — to make him tell. The judge says it's here, a 
 hell of a lot of it, but nobody knows where. Once I 
 get hands on him, he'll tell, or he'll die by inches — 
 what's that out yonder? " 
 
 They moved forward with the light, and Kelleen, all 
 fear swiftly lost in his intense interest, crept on to the 
 curve in the tunnel, from which point he could see their 
 dim shadows. Behind him, but unnoticed, daylight be- 
 gan to be visible through the mantle of vines concealing 
 the entrance. The dark figure on the floor assumed 
 vague outline. The two men in the lantern glow came 
 to a halt, thrusting the light forward, peering at the 
 object which had attracted them. The Mexican iden- 
 tified it first in a sudden cry. 
 
 " It's a body, a dead man," he exclaimed. "He has 
 been killed — Manuel!" 
 
 Meager held back, the coward gripping him, but 
 Sanchez bore the lantern forward, desperate to learn 
 the truth. His startled voice came down the passage. 
 
 " 'Tis not Gomez," he cried, " and no face I ever saw 
 before. Perhaps you know the man?" 
 
 Meager joined him, glancing uneasily about, and 
 (256) 
 
 - 
 
THE LIGHT GOES OUT 
 
 then staring down into the dead face. He seemed to 
 have lost control of himself, and his lips refused 
 utterance. 
 
 " You know him, senor ? " Sanchez asked impatiently. 
 
 "No; but there has been a fight, or a murder — see, 
 he has been shot; and in the back, by God! Gomez 
 must have done this job. But what has become of the 
 old devil? And who was this kid? What was he 
 doing here? See if there is anything in his pockets, 
 Juan. Give me the lantern." 
 
 He held it up, as the Mexican dropped to his 
 knees, and began to rummage through the dead man's 
 clothes. The increasing daylight of the desert found 
 entrance far above, and stole down the narrow passage 
 in a faint, ghastly glimmer, which only added to the 
 ghastliness of the scene. The strain was too much for 
 Meager's nerves, and he swore gruffly. 
 
 "What the hell makes you so slow? Anything 
 there?" 
 
 "No, senor; some cartridges, a knife; no gun, it's 
 gone; no papers, only this scrap; see in his fingers, 
 just like someone had torn the rest away — two, three 
 words, that's all; they mean nothing so." 
 
 He straightened up slowly; then swiftly bent over, 
 jerking the lantern from out Meager's hand and hold- 
 ing it close above the sand-strewn floor. 
 
 (257) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " Saprista! look at that ! " excitedly. " Look, seiior I " 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Caramba! You don't see? — the footstep; the 
 woman's shoe! How came it there? And here an- 
 other; she went up the passage." 
 
 "She, you say?" 
 
 "Sure it was she; this man leave no such print; 
 see, such a small shoe; it was a girl, a woman, and 
 mark she crept up there. Madre de DiosI I bet she 
 stole your horse ; I bet she crept out there and waited 
 till you came. But what the hell did she do down here, 
 sefior?" 
 
 Meager stood as though dazed, unable to collect 
 his thoughts, staring first at those telltale footprints in 
 the sand dust, and then about into the gloom of the 
 tunnel. It was all mystery, only to be solved by the 
 discovery of Manuel Gomez. 
 
 11 Come on," he said fiercely ; M bring the light. We'll 
 search every inch of this damned hole." 
 
 Kelleen turned, his first impulse being to escape, to 
 rush toward that dim glimmer of light now pla inly- 
 marking the cave entrance. Yet the futility of such 
 an effort came to him instantly. They would hear him 
 before he could take three steps; as he clambered up 
 the rock, his body plainly outlined against the dawn, 
 he would make a perfect target. There was a better 
 
 (258) 
 
THE LIGHT GOES OUT 
 
 way than that, and he whirled back to face them, as 
 the two came cautiously forward, the glow of the lan- 
 tern glimmering like a red star. The hand with the 
 weapon in it fell to a level, and he fired, the glass 
 flickering into a thousand pieces, the light instantly 
 extinguished. 
 
 (259) 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 IN ON A NEW GAME 
 
 KELLEEN'S plan of action had formed swiftly in 
 his mind. He had a glimmering of what this 
 conspiracy meant, but must learn more. Only one 
 method was possible — a confession from Bob Meager. 
 The real secret of this tunnel was in his possession, 
 now that Manuel Gomez was dead. Sanchez was only 
 a pawn in the game, trusted in a measure, but possess- 
 ing only a dim suspicion of the real value of the stakes 
 being played for. Meager, coward, villain as he was, 
 had the cunning to conceive; the Mexican the desperate 
 courage to execute. Sanchez dead would do no harm, 
 but, at present, Meager alive would prove a value. He 
 must be made to talk. 
 
 It was a cool, deliberate proposition which flashed 
 before him. He would fight it out right there, where 
 he was. There were only two of them fronting him — 
 Meager he held in utmost contempt; the other was 
 dangerous, yet no more than an ordinary Mexican out- 
 law to be shot down without remorse. 
 
 The advantages in this encounter were altogether 
 on his side. He knew them, where they were; they 
 
 (260) 
 
IN ON A NEW GAME 
 
 possessed no knowledge of his exact position, who he 
 was, or whether they faced one opponent or a dozen. 
 They had been taken completely by surprise, startled 
 by the sudden attack, confused in the darkness. Peer- 
 ing forth from the shelter of the sharp rock edge behind 
 which he crouched, Kelleen was unable to distinguish 
 the figures of the two men — yet, behind where they 
 must be hidden in the gloom, the gray daylight filtered 
 down through that narrow opening leading up to the 
 desert above, and faintly tinged the rock walls. If 
 they moved, if they attempted to retreat, concealment 
 was impossible. He had both of them absolutely at 
 his mercy. 
 
 The silence was intense after that first startled sec- 
 ond. There was no movement, not even the sound of 
 breathing audible. The two stood motionless, crouched 
 back against the wall, peering into the blackness from 
 whence that tongue of flame had leaped into their very 
 faces, yet revealing nothing. They could neither think, 
 nor act. Who had fired — Manuel Gomez? some 
 enemy who had trapped them? Were they facing one 
 man, or a dozen? Into what had they blindly walked? 
 Confident of his own safety, realizing that he had the 
 whip hand, Kelleen smiled grimly, every nerve tense, 
 his revolver poised. The situation pleased him. 
 
 "Drop your guns, both of you!" he commanded 
 (261) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 sternly. " Quick now ! I've got you against the light." 
 
 "Who the hell " 
 
 " Stop that ! Drop them, or I shoot something be- 
 sides a lantern. It's a hair trigger I'm playing with." 
 
 He heard both weapons fall to the floor, Meager 
 cursing impotently, but the Mexican silent. Kelleen 
 laughed. 
 
 "Kick them away from you — that's right! Not 
 bad fellows when properly handled, I see. Now up 
 with your hands, and back against the wall there." 
 
 He could not see the fellows, not so much as an 
 outline of them, yet knew they obeyed the order. It 
 was a bluff which worked because they half believed 
 themselves silhouetted against that distant gray bar of 
 light far down the passage, targets not to be easily 
 missed. That cool, stern voice, unfamiliar in the echo- 
 ing tunnel, meant business, rasped like a steel file on 
 Meager's nerves. 
 
 "By God! Who are you?" he snarled savagely. 
 "What the hell do you want?" 
 
 "The first is of no importance, Meager," returned 
 Kelleen with emphasis. "But I'll answer the latter 
 question. Unbuckle your belt. Go on; I know what 
 you're doing. Yes; take it off. I've got you boys 
 covered; make one false move, and you'll sure taste 
 lead. Now throw that belt about the Mexican — sure 
 
 (262) 
 
IN ON A NEW GAME 
 
 I know who you both are ; I came here gunning for you 
 two guys — around his arms — now, damn you, draw 
 it tight! Yes — that's exaxctly what I mean — strap 
 them to his body " 
 
 Just what happened is not clear. Kelleen could not 
 see; he dare not take a step closer to make sure. The 
 chances are that Sanchez had two guns at his waist. 
 He had discarded one, but the other yet remained. 
 Not certain that he was not outlined against the back- 
 ground of light, he dare not attempt to draw; but now, 
 his hands lowered, as Meager drew the belt about his 
 arms, desperate, bitter with hate, his fingers must have 
 gripped the butt. With one convulsive effort he fired 
 in the direction of the voice. The bullet struck the 
 side wall, sent a splinter of rock tearing into Kelleen's 
 cheek, yet, even as he staggered back half blinded in 
 the flame, he had glimpse of the maddened Mexican, 
 running blindly down the passage. An instant the fel- 
 low stood out clear, his head thrust forward, his arms 
 still held by the belt clasp; then Kelleen pulled trig- 
 ger, and the runner sprawled out, flat and motionless, 
 into the very center of that little pool of gray daylight. 
 
 It was the swift work of an instant, then darkness, 
 and Meager's huge bulk crushed Kelleen against the 
 wall in one mad effort to kill. For a moment the smaller 
 man, taken completely by surprise, struggled helplessly 
 
 (263) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 to escape the stranglehold of those clutching fingers. 
 The revolver dropped from his hand, and he was 
 forced resistlessly backward, strangled, unable to tear 
 loose that vicelike grip. As the two fell, however, 
 Meager's head struck the rock, the sharp blow so dazing 
 him as to permit Kelleen an instant of relief, a long, 
 fresh breath, the release of one arm. Underneath him, 
 pressing against his hip, lay the gun he had been forced 
 to drop. With desperate effort he gained possession 
 of the weapon, thrusting the muzzle savagely into 
 Meager's side. 
 
 "Damn you!" he choked. "Feel that! Get up, 
 or I'll blow a hole clear through you. You dirty brute, 
 to kill you would be a pleasure. Get clear up! Do 
 you know me now?" 
 
 The fellow, thoroughly cowed, shrinking back with 
 the point of the revolver still pressing hard against his 
 rib, stuttered, but made no reply. The widening radius 
 of daylight gave Kelleen the outlines of his bulky figure, 
 but features were invisible. 
 
 " What ! not yet ? I'm the ' Frisco Kid ! ' First you 
 thought you'd double-cross me; then you decided mur- 
 der would do the job best. Well, Meager, neither plan 
 worked. I'm on to your game, and I'm very much 
 alive. Now I've got you. Like to make a guess why 
 I don't kill you?" 
 
 (264) 
 
/AT ON A NEW GAME 
 
 "You — you want me to squeal first." 
 
 " Oh, you'll squeal all right; I've got the thumbscrews 
 to make you talk. You've partly guessed the reason. 
 You know the secret of this hole, and I reckon you are 
 the only one who does. That Mexican partner of 
 yours has got his. Gomez is lying out there with a 
 knife thrust in him — you bet, I know who the devil 
 is — you are the only one of the gang left alive, Bob, 
 and I've got a gun at your heart. Now answer my 
 questions, and answer them damn quick. Have you 
 got your voice back, you big, skunking coward ? " 
 
 Meager growled something to which the other paid 
 no heed. 
 
 "So this was the ape-man's hang-out, was it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "How did you catch on?" 
 
 "I — I knew him down in Mexico." 
 
 "Yes, sure you did; you were with his gang of cut- 
 throats once. I've heard about that — but he never 
 told you of this place?" 
 
 Meager hesitated, and Kelleen's gun pushed harder. 
 
 "You better spit it out, Bob ; I'd sure love to shoot." 
 
 "Well, damn you, what's the difference? Garrity 
 told me the fellow was hiding in here somewhere. Man- 
 uel used to come to him when he needed stuff, but he 
 never was able to track him — he was too damn smart 
 
 (265) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 for the judge. That was what I came up here for, 
 and mostly the reason why I grabbed the ranch — see. 
 Garrity fixed things, because he knew Manuel had a 
 hell of a lot o' spoils stored away. We wanted a free 
 hand. When I come up I fired every American, and 
 took on Mexicans I knew. We run just cattle enough 
 so as to get an excuse for exploring the desert. We 
 knew the damn slippery cuss was hid around here some- 
 where, but couldn't get on to his hole." 
 
 "Well, goon." 
 
 "Seems he wasn't doing anything any more, just 
 hiding out; none of his gang with him. It had got so 
 hot for the old devil he was afraid to show his nose 
 above ground; fifty thousand for him, dead or alive, 
 you know — that last raid had got the U. S. after him 
 as well as Mexico, and he was smart enough to lie 
 out here until it blew over. Maybe we never would 
 have got on to him if Sanchez hadn't struck his trail 
 one day by accident over beyond Silver Springs. That 
 led him into this valley, and then he got lost again. 
 After that we kept a watch. It didn't do no good for 
 some time, the old fox was too sly. So finally Gar- 
 rity put up a meeting with him — they had some secret 
 signal arranged between 'em — and in that way we 
 traced out this cave and got him cornered." 
 
 " Cave! it's a tunnel, ain't it?" 
 (266) 
 
IN ON A NEW GAME 
 
 11 1 don't know what it is. IVe only been here once 
 before — in the dark. What's your idea?" 
 
 "That Manuel found 'Alvara's Lost Mine' — it's 
 got all the earmarks." 
 
 "The — the 'Lost Mine!' Then — then it's worth 
 millions! You — you can't mean it." 
 
 "It's only a guess; let's chuck that now, and finish 
 up with Gomez." 
 
 "Yes, but wait!" exclaimed Meager eagerly, sud- 
 denly seeing a chance for himself. "There ain't no 
 use of you making any gunplay with me, ' Kid.' What's 
 the matter with us being pardners? There's only three 
 of us know about this — you, Garrity, an' me. Hell! 
 there must be money enough here to make us all rich; 
 Gomez has got a devil of a lot hid away somewhere, 
 and, good God ! if this is the ' Lost Mine ' " 
 
 "Yes, but why pick on me?" 
 
 "Well, ain't that what you wanted a while ago? 
 I reckon you ain't no better than we are. Do you want 
 to hog it all? What is the sense of our fighting like 
 two dogs, and trying to kill each other, when, by God ! 
 there must be enough here to make us all rich? No- 
 body else will ever know about it if we keep quiet. 
 All we need do is bury these guys ourselves, get the 
 loot out of the way, and then we got the mine. Hell ! 
 it's a cinch ! " 
 
 (267) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 Kelleen hesitated, not from any doubt as to his own 
 purpose, but in an endeavor to choose the best method. 
 Meager's plan opened new possibilities ; the man must 
 know more than he had revealed, while Garrity was 
 apparently even deeper versed in the mystery. Just 
 now both men would be more valuable alive than dead. 
 He couldn't trust either, not for an instant; they were 
 cold-blooded, treacherous, desperate criminals. There 
 was no honesty in this proposition, only a cunning effort 
 to throw him off his guard. If the chance ever came 
 he would be murdered without a qualm. But now they 
 proposed being partners with him in consummating 
 this crime; he was to associate with them on equal 
 terms, learn their secrets. They believed him to belong 
 to their class, to be an outlaw, hiding from justice, a 
 desperate, reckless character, with a price on his 
 head — the "Frisco Kid." He made decision. 
 
 "That sounds fair enough, Bob," he replied quietly. 
 "You say the judge is in on this, too?" 
 
 "Sure; he got the dope, and you can't play any 
 tricks on Garrity. He's coming here this morning." 
 
 "Here?" 
 
 "That's what. We had a nice little surprise 
 party all made up for Manuel, only you cooked the 
 goose " 
 
 A low, peculiar whistle echoed through the passage, 
 (268) 
 
IN ON A NEW GAME 
 
 and Meager stopped suddenly. Again the whistle 
 sounded, evidently from the entrance to the tunnel. 
 
 " I reckon that's hi-m," he said grimly. " Now what 
 is it between us, 'Kid' — peace or war?" 
 
 Kelleen thrust his revolver back into his belt. 
 
 " I'll play the game," he answered shortly. 
 
 (269) 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 FACE TO FACE 
 
 WITH eyes long accustomed to the darkness the 
 two men could perceive shadowy objects in the 
 outer passage, where little shafts of daylight penetrated 
 through the tangle of concealing foliage. The walls 
 of the tunnel were gray-tinged and darker objects — 
 one perhaps the dead body of Manuel Gomez — shape- 
 less, and grotesque, littered the floor. Meager, evi- 
 dently feeling full confidence in this new alliance, moved 
 forward, while Kelleen followed, still suspicious, and 
 alert for any treachery. If Garrity came there alone 
 he would take the chance; if not, then he would fight 
 the battle out there in the tunnel, asking no quarter, 
 and giving none. Meager stopped, his huge bulk almost 
 blotting out the light. 
 
 " That you, Con? " he asked anxiously. 
 
 A head pushed through the vines, but cautiously. 
 
 "Who the hell else would it be?" exclaimed an 
 exasperated voice. "What's going on here? No- 
 body on watch ; I didn't want to come poking in, liable 
 to get shot. Where the devil is Manuel?" 
 
 "Come inside and I'll explain; just drop over that 
 (?70) 
 
FACE TO FACE 
 
 ledge ; it's only a foot or two to the floor. You came 
 alone?" 
 
 The fellow did not answer, but no one followed as 
 he clambered across the barrier of rock. Apparently 
 he could perceive nothing when once within, except 
 the dim, shapeless figures awaiting him. 
 
 "Two of you, eh! Damn, but it's dark in here! 
 That you, Manuel?" 
 
 " Manuel is dead," explained Meager briefly. 
 "He's been killed." 
 
 " Dead ! Killed ! " The judge pressed his body 
 back against the rock. "What do you mean, Bob? 
 Then who is this other fellow — Sanchez?" 
 
 Kelleen took the matter into his own hands. 
 
 " I'm the 4 Frisco Kid,' " he announced calmly, yet 
 with one hand resting on his gun. " You know me, and 
 that it is all right. I'm in on the deal, that's the only 
 difference." 
 
 "In on the deal?" 
 
 "Yes; I'll make the story short, and the sooner 
 we get it straight the better. Bob here can correct me 
 if I go wrong. I got onto this cave awhile back — been 
 hiding out in the desert myself, you know — and so 
 finally spotted old Gomez. Of course I didn't realize 
 then that you guys were in the game. All I guessed 
 was that I'd stumbled onto Manuel's hide-out, and that 
 
 (271) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 he probably had a bunch of loot stored away. So I 
 started in to play a lone hand. That was all natural 
 enough, wasn't it?" 
 
 " Maybe so," growled Garrity, but still keenly sus- 
 picious. " Go on." 
 
 11 Tonight there was a gang out there running through 
 a pack train of contraband." 
 
 "It didn't go through, did it?" 
 
 "No; they unloaded, stored it away there at the 
 head of the valley, and went back; but they were work- 
 ing on the job most all night. I got close enough to 
 see who they were, and hear them talk. Jem Casebeer 
 was running the outfit, but Bob here, and the Mexican, 
 Sanchez, seemed to be bossing the affair." 
 
 " What in hell has all that got to do with Manuel? " 
 
 "Just this. I was looking for a chance to get in 
 here without getting my head blown off. Long about 
 midnight I thought I got a glimpse of old Gomez 
 sneaking along in the shadow of the cliff, like he was 
 trying to find out also what was going on. So, as soon 
 as I could, I struck out to explore. I got in here all 
 right, but must have got the dope wrong, for the cuss 
 was laying for me. We had a fight in the dark, and 
 finally I got him with a knife. That's his body lying 
 over there." 
 
 Garrity drew in a deep breath. 
 (272) 
 
FACE TO FACE 
 
 " I — I can't see." 
 
 " Well, it's there anyhow, next to that side wall. I 
 thought I was all right after that, but before I could 
 go on, Meager and the Mexican came in on me through 
 those vines. I laid low, and let them go by. It was 
 darker than hell in here then, and they naturally talked 
 some while they were feeling their way along the wall. 
 They never saw the body, or me, but I heard enough 
 to put me wise to what they were after." 
 
 "What did you hear?" 
 
 " How you guys got onto this outfit, and what you 
 proposed to do — you'd double-crossed me all right. 
 So I lay still. A bit later, back in there, after they'd 
 made a light, and, while they were rubbering at another 
 dead one " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Some fellow who had got his — no one of us knew 
 him — only he had been shot in the back of the head. 
 Well, while they were rubbering at him, I got the drop 
 on the two, shot out their light, and lined them back 
 against the wall. I wasn't going to do any killing, un- 
 derstand; all I wanted was my share. But the Mex 
 must have hid a gun in the dark, for all of a sudden 
 the fellow took a snapshot at me from the hip, and 
 ducked. It missed, and, as he ran straight into the 
 light, coming down that passage back there, I got him. 
 
 (273) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 He went down on his face, and then Bob here and I 
 mixed, until he saw a light, and blubbered out a decent 
 proposition that caused me to let him up." 
 "What kind of a proposition ?" 
 "A fair disposition of the spoils — three ways." 
 " Three ways ! He told you about me, then ? " 
 "Sure he did; I knew, anyhow. That's fair enough, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 " Hell ! I don't know whether it is or not." 
 "Now, see here, Garrity," broke in Meager gruffly 
 " It don't look to me as if there was anything else we 
 could do. The ' Kid ' got onto this himself. We both 
 know he's all right, and, under these conditions, he 
 ought to have his share. Hell ! if he don't, I reckon 
 we won't any of us get any. Besides, there's only the 
 three of us left — Manuel and Sanchez are both dead. 
 And say, do you know what * Frisco ' says he believes 
 this damn tunnel is?" 
 
 "This tunnel? the cave you mean?" 
 "Sure, he says it's 'Alvara's Lost Mine' — and, by 
 God I man, if it is, then maybe it's worth millions of 
 coin." 
 
 Garrity made no response. Kelleen could not dis- 
 cern the expression of the man's face, but was sus- 
 picious that his hand rested threateningly on the butt 
 of a revolver. The fellow was treacherous, unscrupu- 
 
 (274) 
 
 
FACE TO FACE 
 
 lous, miserly even in crime, capable of any act to assure 
 his gain. There was only one safe way of dealing 
 with him — the way of force, the heavy hand. Yet he 
 would make one more endeavor. 
 
 "Well, Judge," Kelleen said quietly, "how do you 
 like this plan?" 
 
 " I'm damned if I see why I should divide up with 
 you. We were in here first, and, by your own con- 
 fession, youVe killed Manuel and Sanchez. I don't 
 see any claim you've got." 
 
 "Then I'll try and make you see it," the voice like 
 ice, the black barrel of his gun resting in the crook of 
 his left arm. "Now, listen, both of you — lift your 
 arms, Garrity! I'd prefer to settle this little matter 
 peacefully between us, but if it is going to be war, I've 
 got the drop. So, Judge, it is up to you. Either I'm 
 in on this deal, a full partner, or else I'm in on it alone. 
 Take your choice, and be damn quick about it." 
 
 "You mean — what is it you mean?" 
 
 "You are rather dull this morning, Garrity. I 
 haven't much of a reputation for wasting words, have 
 I ? No doubt you have heard the 4 Frisco Kid ' knows 
 how to shoot when needed? What more explanation 
 do you want? I'm in on this deal, or you are a dead 
 one — that's all. Now say which it is." 
 
 No man could have doubted the deadliness of Kel- 
 (275) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 ken's meaning. Garrity knew the border code far too 
 well to hesitate. 
 
 "Of course you're in. I — I only wanted to under- 
 stand." 
 
 "You've got it clear enough now, but we'll play 
 safe. Your friend Meager here is unarmed, and you 
 will be far better off without the gun — throw it over 
 into that corner." 
 
 "And leave you free to murder us both " 
 
 "Sure, if I decide it's best. Only I don't usually 
 do business that way. You have heard plenty of stories 
 about me, but no one ever said I shot a man treacher- 
 ously. If you two play square there is no danger; but 
 this is a case of two pitted against one; either one of 
 you would cut a throat for a five-dollar bill. I'll give 
 you a minute — throw away that gun! " 
 
 He stood fronting them both, the two between him 
 and the stronger light. His face was emotionless, but 
 the voice speaking was crisp and hard. The two knew 
 him only as a desperado, a border renegade, a man 
 whose willingness to kill had been proven. There 
 remained no choice. Garrity, growling forth an oath, 
 flung his revolver into the dark corner savagely. 
 
 " Frisk him, Bob; I'm taking no chances this time — 
 a knife, hey! rather an ugly tool, Garrity — do all 
 judges carry them? Yes, throw it over there along 
 
 (276) 
 
 ■ 
 
 
FACE TO FACE 
 
 with the gun. Are you sure that is all? Now, Garrity, 
 turn about is fair play; try your hand on Meager — 
 stripped clean, is he? better feel inside his shirt; im- 
 agine he is a prisoner in your court. Good ! Now, I 
 reckon, we are in fair shape to discuss business together. 
 First, gents, let me say this — I haven't the slightest 
 objection in the world to killing both of you on general 
 principles. I know your style, and I'm going to make 
 the present situation perfectly clear. Both of you are 
 damn rascals, capable of any dirty deviltry. You'd 
 kill me in a minute if you only had a chance. I don't 
 propose to give you that chance, for I know what my 
 life is worth, and mean to protect it. I happen to need 
 you just now alive, and, if you obey my orders, and 
 answer my questions, you'll go away from here alive. 
 If you don't, you'll be buried here — do you get that?" 
 
 They stared at him, without a word, Garrity sput- 
 tering, but totally unable to articulate. 
 
 "I see you do; so let's begin. Which one of you 
 has been here before? What's that, Meager? Oh, 
 the judge has. All right then, Garrity, tell me all 
 about it." 
 
 "By God! you can't " 
 
 "Oh, but I can; in fact, it is not necessary that I 
 have your information. I can search this hole over 
 your dead body, only I would rather do it my own 
 
 (277) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 way, for reasons I'll explain. Do you want them?" 
 
 " You mean to kill us anyhow after you find the loot." 
 
 " No doubt that's your idea. That is what you would 
 do, and you have me ticketed in the same class. Well, 
 that doesn't happen to be my plan at all. In the first 
 place, you've got me labeled wrong. I'm not really 
 after the loot; I'm after you. Do you get that, Gar- 
 rity ? Meager here is just a common thief ; he's a brute, 
 and therefore dangerous, but a damn, sneaking coward. 
 All I care particularly about him is to save a 
 woman " 
 
 "What woman?" the surprised question burst from 
 the other fellow's lips, before he could restrain it. 
 
 "Deborah Meredith; the woman you forced into 
 marriage with you. But Garrity here has been the evil 
 genius of this border for the last ten years. There is 
 no crime he hasn't had a finger in. But no one could 
 catch him redhanded. Now I've got you both — got 
 you good and hard. I'm going to bring you in, dead 
 or alive — but alive if possible." 
 
 The eyes of the prisoners met; then both stared 
 helplessly into the mouth of the leveled revolver. 
 
 "Who the hell are you?" burst forth Garrity, his 
 face beaded with perspiration. 
 
 "My name is Kelleen, a captain of cavalry; I've 
 been after you for three months." 
 
 (278) 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE SPOILS OF CRIME 
 
 <f^ OOD GOD ! then you're not the ' Frisco Kid? ' " 
 VJ "I'm all the 'Kid' there ever was," Kelleen 
 admitted carelessly. "That party was simply manu- 
 factured to order; here is where he ends his desperate 
 career. I would have kept the secret awhile longer if 
 I could, but perhaps it is just as well. Now we under- 
 stand each other, Garrity, and the very best thing you 
 can do will be to answer my questions." 
 
 " You haven't the power to make me." 
 
 "Oh, yes I have, Judge — right here. I know ex- 
 actly what you thought of me before; that I was an 
 outlaw, with a price set on my head; that you could kill 
 me if necessary, and no questions would ever be asked, 
 or you could have me arrested later, and taken care 
 of in that way. You have treated others by that 
 formula, I believe. But it won't work this time — 
 do you see? The case has turned about; I am the 
 officer of the law; I can kill you, and go free. I've 
 not only got the drop, my man, but there are cavalry- 
 men over at Box Canyon — you know that — and they 
 will be up here looking for me pretty soon. So, either 
 
 (279) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 dead or alive, you fellows take my orders. I want to 
 get this thing straight. Meager says you've been in 
 here before; is that right?" 
 
 "Yes — once. 
 
 n 
 
 
 I 
 
 "With Gomez ?" 
 
 " No; when I knew he was away." 
 
 " Trying to find out what he had hidden away here, 
 I suppose. Well, what did you discover? " 
 
 "Nothing; not a thing more than you have seen." 
 
 "But now you come back. You believe there is 
 treasure here, fruit of robbery, of crime, and you came 
 sneaking back after it — you, Meager, and Sanchez — 
 how did you plan to get it? " 
 
 Garrity stood silent and sullen. 
 
 "You don't need to answer, for I know. Meager 
 told that. You intended to torture the old devil until 
 he confessed where it was concealed. You can't do that 
 now because he is dead, and his secret died with him. 
 There is only one way left, and that is to search. This 
 is why I need you, Garrity, for I believe you know a 
 lot more than you are confessing just yet." 
 
 Kelleen paused, turning quickly over in his mind 
 what he had better attempt. He felt a profound con- 
 tempt for his prisoners. Meager, while a physical 
 giant, was mentally no more than a mere cowardly 
 brute; Garrity might be truly dangerous — a sly, 
 
 (280) 
 
THE SPOILS OF CRIME 
 
 treacherous villain, but physically unable to cope with 
 him for a moment, and now utterly cowed. While he 
 remained armed, and they were weaponless, he cer- 
 tainly had nothing to fear. His first intention had been 
 to hold the fellows as prisoners, until the squad of 
 troopers appeared; turn them over to the lieutenant 
 in command, searching the cave later at his own leisure. 
 But why wait? It might be an hour, two hours yet, 
 before the soldiers arrived — and then there was Deb- 
 orah. His thought leaped swiftly to the girl; what 
 had happened to her during those long, dark hours? 
 Where had she disappeared after he had been dashed 
 from the rock? She had evidently escaped discovery; 
 he knew that; had wandered off into the desert doubt- 
 less, might be there still, lost in those leagues of sand, 
 struggling for life. The vision called to him, yet he 
 could not seek her until after his men came. These 
 prisoners were far too important to be left unguarded. 
 His duty as an officer held him as in a vise. 
 
 But he realized at that moment a decision that his 
 heart was with Deborah Meredith. He must find her, 
 rescue her, and — thank God! — there was sufficient 
 time in which to accomplish this. The hours since they 
 had parted were not sufficient to expose the girl to 
 any great peril; even if she was still wandering aim- 
 lessly on the desert the opportunity to find her, to save 
 
 (281) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 her life, yet remained. Perhaps, after all, he might 
 serve her best where he was, driving these men to full 
 confession; then, with the troopers there to aid him, 
 he would search that sand waste from end to end. It 
 Was all he could do; but he would never be content 
 merely to sit there in semidarkness on guard. His jaw 
 set with determination. 
 
 "When did you first learn that Gomez was hiding 
 out in this neighborhood, Garrity?" he questioned 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Six months ago. I saw him in Nogales." 
 
 " Privately ?" 
 
 "Yes; we had some deals together before." 
 
 "Paid you for protection, did he? What did he 
 want this time?" 
 
 "Provisions. I was to get him out grub at night; 
 leave it at a certain spot. That was all." 
 
 "He didn't tell you where he was hiding out?" 
 
 " No, but he had plenty of money. I didn't get much 
 information out of him; he never did trust anybody. 
 The authorities had run him pretty close, I reckon; 
 anyhow he was all alone, not one of his gang left. 
 When I couldn't find out anything more, I got Meager 
 to come up here." 
 
 "After the older Meager was killed?" 
 
 " Sure ; that gave us a chance." 
 (282) 
 
 
THE SPOILS OF CRIME 
 
 "I see; the papers were all in your possession; not 
 above doctoring them, were you?" 
 
 11 What the hell is that to you? " 
 
 " Not a great deal to me, perhaps, but of some im- 
 portance to a couple of women I know — one of them 
 a friend of mine. Old Tom Meager left an invalid 
 widow, whom you fellows have, I believe, robbed sys- 
 tematically, and then there is the girl Bob forced into 
 marriage. You didn't suppose I knew about all this* 
 I imagine — well, I'm going to get to the very bottom 
 of it before we are through. But just now I want to 
 use the two of you. We'll find out between us just 
 what Manuel did have hidden away in this hole. Line 
 up there against the wall; face about the other way! 
 Now listen ; I've got both guns, my own, and the one 
 Garrity threw away; they are cocked and within three 
 feet of your backs. I can't possibly miss you, and if you 
 make one move, except as I tell you, I'm going to let 
 drive. Are you ready? " 
 
 "Ready for what?" 
 
 "To do as I order. All right, then; there is plenty 
 of light for me to see you by at this distance. Move 
 forward slowly — Garrity, you keep your hand on the 
 wall, and you, Meager, take hold of Garrity's sleeve; 
 now don't forget; if you do it's sure fatal. Go on slow,, 
 a step at a time." 
 
 (283) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 They came to the curve in the side wall; beyond 
 this was a zone of darkness even this late in the day, 
 but far down the passage the little stream of light from 
 off the desert above enabled Kelleen to keep in view 
 the outlines of his captives. If there was really a secret 
 room in this tunnel he had located its most probable 
 position in his own mind, and had fixed upon the first 
 point to explore. 
 
 " Move on," he said sternly, as the two hesitated to 
 advance. " I'll tell you when to stop. Pick up that 
 lantern, Meager; it hasn't any glass, but will do, if we 
 need a light." 
 
 They circled the bodies of the two dead men lying 
 in the pool of radiance which fell on them from above. 
 Sanchez, huddled up like a dog, rested with his face 
 against the rock floor, but the other stared upward, 
 every ghastly feature revealed. Garrity gave one 
 glance, and turned his eyes away. 
 
 "Ever see that boy before. Judge?" 
 
 " Believe I did, once. Copied a map of this country 
 in my office; said he was hunting a claim." 
 
 "Tell you his name?" 
 
 "No; I wasn't interested." 
 
 "All right, then; one of you light the wick in that 
 lantern. No, I'd rather have you take it, Meager; 
 get back farther out of the draught. Now hold it up, 
 
 (284) 
 
 ' 
 
 ■ 
 
THE SPOILS OF CRIME 
 
 and we'll find out where this passage leads. Walk 
 closer together." 
 
 They advanced again some ten or twelve steps down 
 an opening scarcely wide enough for the two to pass 
 abreast, Kelleen's gaze wandering from the backs of 
 his prisoners to the gray walls on either side. The light 
 flickered, yet revealed no opening, until they came to 
 the very end, and fronted the solid rock. Even then, 
 for an instant, Kelleen failed to perceive the narrow 
 cleft to the left beside Meager, but the latter, excited 
 by the discovery, thrust the sputtering lantern forward, 
 holding it at arm's length, above a rough stone slab 
 which half barred the way. 
 
 "Hell's fire! Look there!" he cried excitedly, al- 
 most dropping the light. 
 
 Garrity craned his neck to see, both men so wild 
 at the sudden discovery as to lose all thought of every- 
 thing else. Even Kelleen, revolver in hand, and fully 
 awake to the danger of his position, pushed forward 
 far enough to gain a partial glimpse within. Meager 
 started to climb over, but the judge stood motionless, 
 breathing hard, his hands gripped on the stone, his eyes 
 glaring about the oddly shaped room, probably orig- 
 inally a cavern formed by water, but enlarged by the 
 efforts of men. The whole apartment might have 
 measured fifteen by ten feet, barely high enough to 
 
 (285) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 stand erect in, the walls varicolored and sparkling in 
 the rays of the uplifted lantern. At the farther ex- 
 tremity lay a pile of debris, scattered rock, and pow- 
 dered stone, as though resting just as they fell after 
 an explosion, the entire end almost totally covered. 
 Protruding from this pile, clearly revealed, now that 
 Meager had found footing inside, and held the blazing 
 wick higher, was the white, ghastly skeleton of a man, 
 his bones still covered with bits of ragged cloth. Caught 
 by a falling rock, he had been pinned there helpless until 
 he died. 
 
 The three men scarcely saw all this, or gave it a 
 thought, for there, immediately in front, and all about 
 them, unarranged, scattered in heaps, lying where they 
 had been thrown carelessly over that outer barrier of 
 rock, rested the miscellaneous spoils of a thousand rob- 
 beries, the sack of churches and towns ; jewels torn from 
 women's hands, silver and gold, rich booty of crime 
 from midnight raids, and the burning of cities — the 
 hidden treasures of old Manuel Gomez. It was un- 
 believable, staggering. What suffering, what death, 
 what cruelty and torture, did these things picture ! And 
 wealth — wealth I Who could even calculate its value? 
 Bloodstained, crime-gotten, the fruits of fifty years of 
 outlawry, here was gathered, in one vast heap, wealth 
 to make the mind of man helpless to grasp its value. 
 
 (286) 
 
THE SPOILS OF CRIME 
 
 Garrity, digging his fingers frantically into the stone, 
 unconscious of what he did, his eyes blazing with sud- 
 den, uncontrollable madness, dragged himself over the 
 barrier. He had lost all reason, all fear; with a mad 
 cry he gathered up into his arms all that he could grasp 
 — golden crucifix, chaliced goblet, a great silver link 
 glittering with pearls, a jeweled bodice blazing in the 
 light — laughed like a fiend as he hugged them close, 
 then staggered on in wild ecstasy, a string of oaths 
 breaking from his lips. Something tripped him and 
 he fell, his arms flung blindly out; a gripping hand 
 struck the lantern from Meager's grasp, flinging it, still 
 blazing, a half-dozen feet away. An instant there was 
 silence, a mere flicker of light, which shot along the 
 floor as though on a trail of powder — then a glare 
 and roar, a blast of flame, a report, as if a thousand 
 cannon had exploded; and utter darkness. 
 
 (287) 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE FINDING OF GOMEZ 
 
 THE little squad of cavalry moved up the creek 
 bottom with much caution. The rangy young 
 lieutenant, exercising his first independent command, 
 was determined to neglect no precautions. Indeed he 
 was not quite satisfied in his own mind that he should 
 yield to the anxious insistence of this girl who had so 
 strangely appeared in his camp. She was decidedly 
 pretty, and she interested him, yet he was not alto- 
 gether without suspicion. He had been given strict 
 orders, and her sudden arrival had disarranged all 
 his previous plans. At first he had been disinclined to 
 advance at all, but the sergeant had sided in with the 
 girl, and overcome his objections. The sergeant knew 
 Captain Kelleen, and, because of twenty years' service, 
 ventured to express himself rather freely. Lieutenant 
 Carr, while inclined to resent this, nevertheless realized 
 his own inexperience, and, finally with reluctance, gave 
 the necessary order. But he did not purpose to take 
 any unnecessary risks. If Kelleen was already dead 
 there surely was no reason to hurry, as they could be 
 of no assistance; perhaps this was all a ruse to lead him 
 into a trap. The girl had admitted there were a num- 
 
 (288) 
 
 
THE FINDING OF GOMEZ 
 
 ber of men in the valley — how many she did not know 
 — probably far outnumbering his small force. Carney, 
 the sergeant, permitted him to have his own way, laugh- 
 ing a bit to himself, however, and so they jogged along 
 slowly, a couple of scouts well in advance, with a vedette 
 on either flank, watchful of the desert on either side. 
 Deborah begged for haste, but the officer remained 
 adamant, and, at last, in despair, utterly wearied, her 
 mind in a chaos, she rode on listlessly beside him. Kel- 
 leen must be dead; she dare not even dream anything 
 else. She had heard the shot, seen the burst of flame, 
 caught sight of his toppling body plunging over the edge 
 of the cliff. The men who shot him had no doubt; 
 they had fired to kill, believed they had killed; and gone 
 away satisfied — Bob Meager and the Mexican. She 
 shivered at the memory of them. Her husband! that 
 murderer her husband! He could claim her, would 
 claim her if he lived ; legally she belonged to him. The 
 ceremony was sacrilege, a hideous mockery, yet it was 
 legal, legal; it left her forever in the power of that 
 brute. She shuddered at recollection of that scene in 
 the ranchhouse, the leering, drunken faces, the sharp 
 voice of Judge Garrity, the brutal grip with which Bob 
 Meager held her, those hateful words which bound her 
 to such unspeakable shame. And then the struggle to 
 save herself; the hours of torture waiting for his com- 
 
 (289) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 ing, the broken door, the clutch of his hands, the hot, 
 drunken breath on her face, the blow which set her 
 free. Good God ! could this all be true ! The fresh 
 night air, the escape through the black night, the meet- 
 ing with Daniel Kelleen. 
 
 He had been a man, a real man ; he had died for her. 
 Unchecked, unnoticed the tears welled into her eyes, 
 and fell on the saddle pommel. She could see nothing 
 but his face, realize nothing but that they were riding 
 now to bring back his body. She had almost known be- 
 fore that she loved him, but now, in bereavement and de- 
 spair, she comprehended that all the brightness and 
 hope had gone from life. She yet lived, must continue 
 to live — the wife of Bob Meager. 
 
 Under a high, burning sun, reflected back into their 
 faces from off the leagues of sand, the little party rode 
 steadily forward, seeing nothing but the drear desert. 
 The strain and stillness left them silent, lolling wearily 
 in the saddles, listless eyes scanning the dreariness 
 ahead. The lieutenant occasionally glanced aside at the 
 girl, but he found no words to speak, she was such a 
 pathetic figure. So he rode grimly on, and left her 
 mercifully to her own thoughts. 
 
 It must have been nearly noon when the little caval- 
 cade debouched from the bed of the stream, forced their 
 jaded horses up the bank, and came to where the riders 
 
 (290) 
 
THE FINDING OF GOMEZ 
 
 could look down into the half-concealed valley below. 
 The advance scouts waited them here among the rocks, 
 to point out the trail, curving downward through a 
 ravine. They had discovered no signs of recent pas- 
 sage, no marks of hoofs; nor were there any signs of 
 human presence in the lower valley. 
 
 The lieutenant studied the scene through his glasses, 
 yet vaguely suspicious of some trick, consulted with the 
 sergeant, and finally spoke to Deborah. 
 
 "This must be the place," he said, u but it seems de- 
 serted. Do you recognize anything?" 
 
 " Yes, although I have never been here before. The 
 Casebeer outfit were yonder, just beyond that bend. I 
 told you they were unloading the mules, and Captain 
 Kelleen said they were going back, anxious to get away 
 before daybreak." 
 
 " You think then they have already left? " 
 
 "Yes, long ago. If any people remain in the valley 
 it will be Meager and some of the men with him. I ex- 
 plained all that to you." 
 
 The officer flushed. 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know, but it is my duty to be cautious. 
 Could you guide us from here ? " 
 
 She sat straight in the saddle, a new light in her eyes, 
 as she pointed the directions. 
 
 " I can never forget. Straight ahead down there is 
 (29!) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 where they were storing the things — a fire burned there 
 by that big rock; you can see a whisp of smoke even 
 now. This trail must lead direct. Over there," she hid 
 her face for an instant in her hands as though to shut 
 out the sight, " is the cliff over which Captain Kelleen 
 fell, and just beyond, at the upper end of the valley is 
 the cave I told you about. I — I am going down 
 whether you and your soldiers come or not. I — I must 
 learn the truth." 
 
 She forced her horse forward, and the others fol- 
 lowed, waiting for no command, the sergeant riding 
 almost beside her in the narrow trail. They found the 
 storehouse, back within the shadow of the great rock, 
 so concealed by trees as to be invisible a few yards away. 
 It was deserted, unguarded; and satisfied as to this fact, 
 convinced by a hundred signs that the entire outfit had 
 indeed returned the way they came, the lieutenant scat- 
 tered his force to explore the upper valley. His mood 
 had changed from suspicion of this girl to faith in her 
 strange story. Things were exactly as she had de- 
 scribed. Dismounted, their horses being led behind 
 them in readiness for any emergency, the squad ad- 
 vanced, the men with carbines in their hands. The ser- 
 geant kept close in against the southern cliff until he 
 came to where Deborah pointed out the spot of Kel- 
 leen's fall. They found no body, no signs to indicate 
 
 (292) 
 
THE FINDING OF GOMEZ 
 
 any such tragedy. Carney gazed about in perplexity. 
 
 "You are sure this is the place, miss?" he asked 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "Yes, Sergeant; we were on the rock up there, the 
 one jutting out over the edge; there is no other spot 
 like it." 
 
 His eyes, narrowed, surveyed the distance, marking 
 every detail. 
 
 "Then it's likely he struck them trees, miss, and 
 there may be a ledge there that he lit on. I'm going up." 
 
 He fought his way from rock to rock, with difficulty 
 finding foot anil handhold, winding in and out of crev- 
 ices, and using every shrub to aid his progress upward. 
 Once or twice he paused, as though blocked, clinging 
 to the face of the cliff like a fly, yet found a way, and 
 went on. Those below watched breathlessly until the 
 man finally crept over an outcropping ledge, impercep- 
 tible from where they stood, and disappeared. It 
 seemed as though he was gone a long while. Deborah, 
 hand pressed on her heart, never removed her eyes 
 from the spot, or stirred. What had he found up there ? 
 Surely he must have discovered something — the dead, 
 mangled body, no doubt. Then he appeared again, 
 alone, standing up and gazing down at them. His voice 
 as he hailed them below, sounded clear, exultant, a new 
 ring in its tone. 
 
 (293) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 "He ain't here, miss, but, by God, sir, I believe he's 
 alive." 
 
 Deborah could not speak, could not utter a sound. 
 Alive ! Alive ! why that was impossible ; her very heart 
 seemed to stop beating. She could only stare up at the 
 man dazed and helpless. It was the lieutenant who an- 
 swered. 
 
 11 You say he is alive, Carney? " 
 
 " Well, he sure left here alive, sir, and on his own legs. 
 I found the place where he come down, an' where he 
 got on his feet again. There wasn't nobody else here 
 helpin' him, an' he started off along this ledge — limpin' 
 a bit, I should say, but goin' alone. Whatever happened 
 since, sir, he certainly left here able to navigate. May- 
 be I better follow the trail?" 
 
 "Yes, go on, Sergeant." 
 
 Deborah's limbs trembled so she could scarcely walk 
 for the first few steps. She clung gratefully to the lieu- 
 tenant's arm, her gaze never deserting the man mov- 
 ing cautiously along the narrow ledge of rock high 
 above them. Alive ! Daniel Kelleen was alive ! Noth- 
 ing else mattered; nothing else had any place in her 
 mind — through some strange miracle of God, Daniel 
 Kelleen was alive ! The sense of her surroundings came 
 back as they advanced, the memory of it all quickening 
 her perceptions, as strength returned. He was alive 
 
 C294) 
 
THE FINDING OF GOMEZ 
 
 after his fall, able to walk — to plan. What would he 
 most naturally do ? To seek her then was impossible, 
 and he had remembered that cave which she had de- 
 scribed. He must have been seeking it; his trail led 
 directly there. Her hands clasped tightly at the of- 
 ficer's sleeve. 
 
 "Have the sergeant hurry; please have him hurry! 
 He doesn't need to trace Captain Kelleen's trail. I — I 
 am sure I know where he was going." 
 
 "Where was that?" 
 
 "To the cave I had found, and told him about; it is 
 there just beyond that mound. Good God, Lieutenant, 
 there are horses grazing yonder — they have found him 
 already." 
 
 There were two animals in a little cove, hobbled, and 
 nibbling at the short grass, but both saddled and bridled, 
 They had the Meager ranch brand on their flanks, and 
 the sergeant, joining the party below, easily followed 
 the trail of two men on foot until they circled the 
 mound of earth, and ascended the opposite side. 
 Deborah pressed her way forward, too eager now to 
 be longer held back, yet fully realizing the danger con* 
 fronting them. 
 
 " Be careful here," she warned. " They are certainly 
 in there — two or three, at least, and they will shoot. 
 Here, Sergeant, let me show you; I know the way." 
 
 (295) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 They crept up, the three of them, the two men with 
 weapons drawn, keeping close in under the partial pro- 
 tection of the cliff. Behind four or five troopers fol- 
 lowed, with carbines thrown forward. Nothing op- 
 posed their progress; the very mystery adding to the 
 strain on their nerves. To Deborah it became almost 
 unbearable — surely they must be there, just behind that 
 leaf screen, Bob Meager and the Mexican, Sanchez; 
 those were their horses — and that ape-man! Why 
 were they so still? What caused them to hold back 
 their fire? Could it be possible they were all back in 
 the tunnel, with no guard set? And Kelleen ! what had 
 happened to Kelleen? 
 
 They were already before the clinging vines; her 
 hands trembled as she forced these aside revealing the 
 black vacancy behind. The startled sergeant pressed 
 them farther back, staring bewildered into the void, his 
 service revolver thrust forward, an oath breaking from 
 his lips. 
 
 " By God ! but this beats hell, sir. Damn it, but I'm 
 goin' in ! " 
 
 He went over the barrier of rock unmolested, un- 
 stopped, and recklessly Deborah followed. The lieu- 
 tenant paused an instant. 
 
 "Jones, you and Calhoun follow us; the others re- 
 main out here. Keep your eyes open, lads." 
 
 (296) 
 
THE FINDING OF GOMEZ 
 
 The next moment he had also scrambled through the 
 opening, and crouched down beside the trembling girl. 
 Just ahead the two could dimly distinguish Carney, 
 leaning forward, peering into the total darkness beyond. 
 
 "It's — it's perfectly level, the floor is," she whis- 
 pered. " You can follow along the wall — I did." 
 
 They advanced together slowly, feeling their way, 
 scarcely a sound breaking the silence. Suddenly the 
 sergeant, slightly in advance, stopped, feeling at some- 
 thing on the floor with his feet; then he stooped over. 
 
 " By God, here's a dead man I " 
 
 "A dead man ! Are you sure ? " 
 
 "He's dead all right, sir. Where's the flash-light? 
 We've got to find out what this means." 
 
 "Jones has it; Jones, come up here. Give me the 
 flash." 
 
 The round glare of light struck the side walls, swept 
 over the still kneeling sergeant, glinting on his drawn 
 weapon, and then touched the motionless body out- 
 stretched on the floor. At last it rested on the upturned 
 face. The sergeant stared down as though he saw a 
 ghost. 
 
 "By God! " he ejaculated at last, "by God! it's the 
 old devil himself. What's that, Carney! you know 
 him?" 
 
 "Know him! Why, sir, Lieutenant, it's Gomez, 
 (297) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 Manuel Gomez — there's fifty thousand dollars on him 
 dead or alive. Well, he's dead all right." 
 
 " Gomez, the outlaw; but are you sure?" 
 
 "Sure," the sergeant rose to his feet and swung 
 about. "Sure? Hell! — begging your pardon, sir — 
 why shouldn't I be sure ? I've chased that old fox ever 
 since I've been in the army, twenty years, sir. Twice 
 we were after him down in old Mexico. It's Manuel 
 Gomez lying there, and it was a knife that killed him." 
 
 The boy lieutenant's face was white in the reflected 
 light, but his lips were firmly set. 
 
 "Well, he's dead now," he said sternly, "and it is 
 up to us to find out what all this means." 
 
 He lifted the flash from off the upturned face, and 
 sent it dancing along the gray walls into the black 
 chasm ahead. 
 
 (298) 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE MESSAGE OF LIFE 
 
 "T)UT, Lieutenant, this ain't no cave, sir; it's a 
 JJ bloomin' mine," a voice spoke from behind in 
 tone of surprise. 
 
 " What makes you think that, Calhoun ? " 
 
 " Cause it's been blasted out mostly, sir, or else picked. 
 I've been a miner myself, and ought to know. Maybe 
 there was a cave yere once, but I tell yer, sir, these yere 
 walls have been hand-worked, or I'm a piker." 
 
 "All right, we've got to explore the passage just the 
 same. Come on, men." 
 
 He flashed the warning light ahead, as they ad- 
 vanced, taking his own place beside the sergeant, and 
 compelling Deborah to remain behind with the two 
 soldiers. As the passage curved to the right the leaders 
 crept forward with extreme caution, to gain view of 
 what lay hidden beyond, Carr reaching out his hand to 
 send the flicker of light dancing down the narrowed 
 tunnel. The flashing rays brought no response, awoke 
 no sound of movement, and Carney ventured to pro- 
 trude his head far enough around the protecting rock 
 to gain view of what was beyond. The flash-light was 
 
 C299) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 no longer needed to reveal the scene. At the end of the 
 passage, down through that slight opening leading to 
 the desert above, streamed the glare of day, white and 
 dazzling to his eyes after the pitch darkness in which he 
 had been blindly feeling his way forward. It rested, a 
 pool of light on the floor, and in its very center, every 
 detail outlined as in an etching, were two bodies, one 
 face downward, curled in grotesque shape, the other 
 lying at full length, features upturned to the low roof. 
 Beyond these the flare of the flash-light, leaping across 
 this narrow space of day, exhibited a jumbled mass of 
 rock, blocking the passage from top to bottom. They 
 seemed to have attained the very end of things. 
 
 The startled sergeant stared speechless — first at 
 those motionless bodies, death pictured in each attitude; 
 then beyond at a strange, ghastly, white face, on which 
 the search-light fantastically played. Suddenly some- 
 thing else reflected into his eyes, the sparkle of an up- 
 lifted revolver's polished tube. 
 
 " Who are you ? " asked a hoarse voice sternly. " Stop 
 there until you answer." 
 
 " My God, sir ! " was the instant cry. " I'm Carney, 
 Sergeant Carney, Captain. We've come here for you, 
 
 The threatening revolver sank weakly, and Carney 
 and the lieutenant, oblivious to all else, rushed forward, 
 
 (300) 
 
THE MESSAGE OF LIFE 
 
 circling the two dead bodies in their eagerness to reach 
 the one live man beyond, held helpless in that fall of 
 rock. Deborah, left in the darkness behind, groped her 
 way forward, dazed, speechless, only one fact echoing 
 in her mind — he was alive, Daniel Kelleen was alive! 
 
 He lifted his head, and looked at them, trying to 
 smile. 
 
 " God, but it is good to see you, Sergeant," he man- 
 aged to say. "I — I thought you would never come. 
 This darkness; those dead men out there, and — and I 
 couldn't move. No, I don't believe I'm badly hurt; 
 only just caught me, that's all — a single second more, 
 and I'd gone free." His face lit up suddenly, his eyes 
 brightening with recognition. "You — you here, too, 
 Deborah Meredith! Why — why I have been worry- 
 ing about you; lying here in the dark I haven't thought 
 of much else; I — I kept seeing you wandering alone 
 out there in the desert." 
 
 She dropped to her knees, and drew his head into the 
 comfort of her lap, her hand smoothing back his hair. 
 There were glistening, unshed tears in her eyes, and he 
 saw them. 
 
 "No, I got away," she explained hastily. "They 
 did not see me at all, and then God guided me to your 
 men." 
 
 " I know part of it — Meager told me." 
 (301) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 "Bob Meager?" her heart choked her. "He was 
 really here with you then? What — what happened? 
 Can you tell me ? they will have those rocks dug away in 
 a moment." 
 
 "Yes, yes, he was here, he and Garrity — the judge, 
 you know. They — they are both in there now, buried 
 under tons of rock. I — hardly know what did hap- 
 pen; it all came on us in a flash. There was a tunnel in 
 here, a room, where old Alvara had been mining years 
 and years ago. He must have died there all alone, for 
 I saw his skeleton on a pile of stone. Then those two 
 went in — Meager and Garrity — with a broken lan- 
 tern. I — I think one of them fell, and — and there 
 must have been some powder left there — powder old 
 Alvara had, maybe, a lot of it. I — I saw the flash, 
 and jumped back — they are there yet, buried." 
 
 "Bob Meager is dead?" 
 
 " Crushed to a pulp." 
 
 His head sank back helplessly, and his eyes closed. 
 Carney and Jones rolled the last stone from off the im- 
 prisoned limbs, but he lay insensible. The three sol- 
 diers bore him out through the black passage to the en- 
 trance, and, with the assistance of those others outside, 
 lifted his body over the rock barrier, between the cling- 
 ing vines into the sunlight. Deborah never left his side, 
 and as they placed the body on the short turf, his head 
 
 (302) 
 
 - 
 
THE MESSAGE OF LIFE 
 
 rested again on her arm. The sergeant knelt, and felt 
 the outstretched limbs. 
 
 " Badly bruised, and perhaps crushed a bit," he said 
 at last, " but I doubt if there is a bone broken. He'll 
 be all right presently. One of you fellows bring a can- 
 teen. Now, miss, a little water will do the captain more 
 good than anything else. What is it, Lieutenant?" 
 
 "We can hardly move him at present, Sergeant. 
 He'll have to rest awhile before he can ride. Perhaps 
 we better search those bodies back there, and dispose 
 of them in some way." 
 
 "Very well, sir." 
 
 They disappeared together, all but two troopers left 
 on guard; below in the valley the troop horses grazed in 
 the sunshine. Deborah, bathing the white face gently, 
 waited with wildly beating heart. She was free, free, 
 and Daniel Kelleen lived. There was nothing else in 
 life to think about. 
 
 He slowly opened his eyes, and smiled up at her, as 
 though her being there was the most natural thing in the 
 world. 
 
 " The blue sky," he said, his voice trembling, " how 
 beautiful it is. God ! but it is good to get out of that 
 hole, with dead men everywhere." 
 
 "Yes," she replied, "but don't try to talk now; that 
 is all over with. " 
 
 (303) 
 
GIFT OF THE DESERT 
 
 " But I want to talk," he insisted. " It keeps me from 
 thinking; it makes me know it is all real — this blue sky, 
 and you." 
 
 u Then if you must, tell me what happened; it seems 
 almost a miracle." 
 
 " It was a miracle, and I am not sure but you were 
 God's messenger," he replied soberly. Then slowly, 
 hesitatingly, prompted now and then by a question, he 
 told his story, his voice growing stronger as he spoke. 
 The guard sat on a rock a dozen feet away, their car- 
 bines between their knees, eyes on the deserted valley 
 below. The girl bent over eagerly, seeking not to lose 
 a word. At the end Kelleen asked suddenly. 
 
 "The paper you took from the boy's hand — what 
 was it?" 
 
 11 Only a map, very roughly drawn, and written on 
 in Spanish. I could make little out of it — see." 
 
 She held it out before him, a yellow, creased paper, 
 looking a century old. He held it for a moment in his 
 own hands, peering at the crisscross of lines impatiently. 
 
 "Perhaps it was one Alvara left," he said slowly, 
 "and the boy had found. He followed the rainbow 
 to the end." 
 
 "And we will never know?" 
 
 " No ; the end was death." 
 
 They were quiet a long while ; then his hand move 
 (304) 
 
THE MESSAGE OF LIFE 
 
 and touched her own. Her eyes, which had been on 
 the valley, dropped wonderingly to his face. 
 
 "Xhis is not all, is it — just to be alive again? " he 
 asked softly. 
 
 M I — I hardly know what you mean." 
 
 "Back there in the tunnel," he insisted, "when I 
 first looked up into your eyes I read a message ; I want 
 to read it again." 
 
 "A message — are you sure?" 
 
 " Yes, dear, I am sure; it was a message of love." 
 
 She was no longer looking at him, and she caught her 
 breath. Then their eyes met once more. 
 
 " It is the same message always, Daniel Kelleen," she 
 said simply. 
 
 (305) 
 
Popular Copyright Novels 
 
 AT MODERATE PRICES 
 
 Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of 
 A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction 
 
 Adventures of Jimmie Dale, The. By Frank L. Packard. 
 
 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. By A. Conan Doyle. 
 
 Affinities, and Other Stories. By Mary Roberts Rinehart 
 
 After House, The. By Mary Roberts Rinehart. 
 
 Against the Winds. By Kate Jordan. 
 
 Ailsa Paige. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 
 Also Ran. By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. 
 
 Amateur Gentleman, The. By Jeffery Farnol. 
 
 Anderson Crow, Detective. By George Barr McCutcheon. 
 
 Anna, the Adventuress. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 Anne's House of Dreams. By L. M. Montgomery. 
 
 Anybody But Anne. By Carolyn Wells. 
 
 Are All Men Alike, and The Lost Titian. By Arthur Stringer. 
 
 Around Old Chester. By Margaret Deland. 
 
 Ashton-Kirk, Criminologist. By John T. Mclntyre. 
 
 Ashton-Kirk, Investigator. By John T. Mclntyre. 
 
 Ashton-Kirk, Secret Agent. By John T. Mclntyre. 
 
 Ashton-Kirk, Special Detective. By John T. Mclntyre. 
 
 Athalie. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 
 At the Mercy of Tiberius. By Augusta Evans Wilson. 
 
 Auction Block, The. By Rex Beach. 
 
 Aunt Jane of Kentucky. By Eliza C. Hall. 
 
 Awakening of Helena Richie. By Margaret ©eland. 
 
 Bab: a Sub-Deb. By Mary Roberts Rinehart. 
 
 Bambi. By Marjorie Benton Cooke. 
 
 Barbarians. By Robert W. Chambers 1 . 
 
 Bar 20. By Clarence E. Mulford. 
 
 Bar 20 Days. By Clarence E. Mulford. 
 
 Barrier, The. By Rex Beach. 
 
 Bars of Iron, The. By Ethel M. Dell. 
 
 Beasts of Tarzan, The. By Edgar Rice Burroughs. 
 
 Beckoning Roads. By Jeanne Judson. 
 
 Belonging. By Olive Wadsley. 
 
 Beloved Traitor, The. By Frank L. Packard. 
 
 Beloved Vagabond, The. By Wm. J. Locke. 
 
 Beltane the Smith. By Jeffery Farnol. 
 
 Betrayal, The. Bv E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 Beulah. (111. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. 
 
Popular Copyrigkt Novels 
 
 AT MODERATE PRICES 
 
 Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of 
 A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction 
 
 i 
 
 Beyond the Frontier. By Randall Parrish. 
 
 Big Timber. By Bertrand W. Sinclair. 
 
 Black Bartlemy's Treasure. By Jeffery Farnol. 
 
 Black Is White. By George Barr McCutcheon. 
 
 Blacksheep! Blacksheep!. By Meredith Nicholson. 
 
 Blind Man's Eyes, The. By Wm. Mac Harg and Edwin 
 
 Balmer. 
 Boardwalk, The. By Margaret Widdemer. 
 Bob Hampton of Placer. By Randall Parrish. 
 Bob, Son of Battle. By Alfred Oiivant. 
 Box With Broken Seals, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 Boy With Wings, The. By Berta Ruck. 
 Brandon of the Engineers. By Harold Bindloss. 
 Bridge of Kisses, The. By Berta Ruck. 
 Broad Highway, The. By Jeffery Farnol. 
 Broadway Bab. By Johnston McCulley. 
 Brown Study, The. By Grace S. Richmond. 
 Bruce of the Circle A. By Harold Titus. 
 JBuccaneer Farmer, The. By Harold Bindloss. 
 Buck Peters, Ranchman. By Clarence E. Mulford. 
 Builders, The. By Ellen Glasgow. 
 Business of Life, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 
 Cab of the Sleeping Horse, The. By John Reed Scott 
 
 Cabbage and Kings. By O. Henry. 
 
 Cabin Fever. By B. M. Bower. 
 
 Calling of Dan Matthews, The. By Harold Bell Wright, 
 
 Cape Cod Stories. By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 
 Cap'n Abe, Storekeeper. By James A. Cooper. 
 
 Cap'n Dan's Daughter. By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 
 Cap'n Erl. By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 
 Cap'n Jonah's Fortune. By James A. Cooper. 
 
 Cap'n Warren's Wards. By Joseph C Lincoln. 
 
 Chinese Label, The. Bv J. Frank Davis. 
 
 Christine of the Young Heart. Bv Louise Breintenbacfi Clancy, 
 
 Cinderella Jane. By Marjorie B. Cooke. 
 
 Cinema Murder, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 City of Masks, The. By George Barr McCutcheon. 
 
 Cleek of Scotland Yard. By T. W. Hanshew. 
 
Popular Copyrigkt Novels 
 
 r AT MODERATE PRICES 
 
 Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of 
 A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction 
 
 — ! 
 
 Cleek, The Man of Forty Faces. By Thomas W. Hanshew. 
 
 deck's Government Cases. By Thomas W. Hanshew. 
 
 Clipped Wings. By Rupert Hughes. 
 
 Clutch of Circumstance, The. By Marjorie Benton Cooke. 
 
 Coast of Adventure, The. By Harold Bindloss. 
 
 Come-Back, The. By Carolyn Wells. 
 
 Coming of Cassidy, The. By Clarence E. Mulford. 
 
 Coming of the Law, The. By Charles A. Seltzer. 
 
 Comrades of Peril. By Randall Parrish. 
 
 Conquest of Canaan, The. By Booth Tarkington. 
 
 Conspirators, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 
 Contraband. By Randall Parrish. 
 
 Cottage of Delight, The. By Will N. Harben. 
 
 Court of Inquiry, A. By Grace S. Richmond. 
 
 Cricket, The. By Marjorie Benton Cooke. 
 
 Crimson Gardenia, The, and Other Tales of Adventure, 
 
 Rex Beach. 
 Crimson Tide, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 Cross Currents. By Author of "Pollyanna." 
 Cross Pull, The. By Hal. G. Evarts. 
 Cry in the Wilderness, A. By Mary E. Waller. 
 Cry of Youth, A. By Cynthia Lombardi. 
 Cup of Fury, The. By Rupeit Hughes. 
 Curious Quest, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 Danger and Other Stories. By A. Conan Doyle. 
 Dark Hollow, The. By Anna Katharine Green. 
 Dark Star, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 Daughter Pays, The. By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. 
 Day of Days, The. By Louis Joseph Vance. 
 Depot Master, The. By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 Destroying Angel, The. By Louis Joseph Vance. 
 Devil's Own, The. By Randall Parrish. 
 Devil'* Paw, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 Disturbing Charm, The. By Berta Ruck. 
 Door of Dread, The. By Arthur Stringer. 
 Dope. By Sax Rohmer. 
 
 Double Traitor, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 Duds. Bv Henry C. Rowland. 
 
Popular Copyright Novels 
 
 UT MODERATE PRICES 
 
 [ftsk Your Dealer for a Complete List of 
 A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction 
 
 =SU 
 
 Empty Pockets. By Rupert Hughes. 
 Erskine Dale Pioneer. By John Fox, Jr. 
 Everyman's Land. By C. N. & A. M. Williamson. 
 Extricating Obadiah. By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 Eyes of the Blind, The. By Arthur Somers Roche. 
 Eyes of the World, The. By Harold Bell Wright 
 
 Fairfax and His Pride. By Marie Van Vorst. 
 
 Felix O'Day. By F. Hopkinson Smith. 
 
 54-40 or Fight. By Emerson Hough. 
 
 Fighting Chance, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 
 Fighting Fool, The. By Dane Coolidge. 
 
 Fighting Shepherdess, The. By Caroline Lockhart. 
 
 Financier, The. By Theodore Dreiser. 
 
 Find the Woman, By Arthur Somers Roche. 
 
 First Sir Percy, The. By The Baroness Orczy. 
 
 Flame, The. By Olive Wadsley. 
 
 For Better, for Worse. By W. B. Maxwell, 
 
 Forbidden Trail, The. By Honore Willsie. 
 
 Forfeit, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 
 Fortieth Door, The. By Mary Hastings Bradley, 
 
 Four Million, The. By O. Henry. 
 
 From Now On. By Frank L. Packard. 
 
 Fur Bringers, The. By Hulbert Footner. 
 
 Further Adventures of Jimmie Dale. By Frank L. Packard. 
 
 Get" Your Man. By Ethel and James Dorrance. 
 
 Girl in the Mirror, The. By Elizabeth Jordan. 
 
 Girl of O. K. Valley, The. By Robert Watson. 
 
 Girl of the Blue Ridge, A. By Payne Erskine. 
 
 Girl from Keller's, The. By Harold Bindloss. 
 
 Girl Philippa, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 
 Girls at His Billet, The. By Berta Ruck. 
 
 Glory Rides the Range. By Ethel and James Borrance. 
 
 Gloved Hand, The. By Burton E. Stevenson. 
 
 God's Country and the Woman. By James Oliver Curwood. 
 
 God's Good Man. By Marie Corelli. 
 
 Going Some. By Rex Beach. 
 
 Gold Girl, The. By James B. Hendryx. 
 
 Golden Scorpion, The. By Sax Rohmer. 
 
Popular Copyright Novels 
 
 AT MODERATE PRICES 
 
 Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of 
 A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction 
 
 Golden Slipper, The. By Anna Katharine Green. 
 
 Golden Woman, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 
 Good References. By E. J. Rath. 
 
 Gorgeous Girl, The. By Nalbro Bartley. 
 
 Gray Angels, The. By Nalbro Bartley. 
 
 Great Impersonation, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 
 Greater Love Hath No Man. By Frank L. Packard. 
 
 Green Eyes of Bast, The. By Sax Rohmer. 
 
 Greyfriars Bobby. By Eleanor Atkinson. 
 
 Gun Brand, The. By James B. Hendryx. 
 
 Hand of Fu-Manchu, The. By Sax Rohmer. 
 Happy House. By Baroness Von Hutten. 
 Harbor Road, The. By Sara Ware Bassett. 
 Havoc. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 Heart of the Desert, The; By Honore Willsie. 
 Heart of the Hills, The. By John Fox, Jr. 
 Heart of the Sunset By Rex Beach. 
 
 Heart of Thunder Mountain, The. By Edfrid A. Bingham. 
 Heart of Unaga, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 Hidden Children, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 Hidden Trails. By William Patterson White. 
 Highflyers, The. By Clarence B. Kelland. 
 Hillman, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim, 
 Hills of Refuge, The. By Will N. Harben. 
 His Last Bow. By A. Conan Doyle. 
 His Official Fiancee. By Berta Ruck. 
 Honor of the Big Snows. By James Oliver Curwood. 
 Hopalong Cassidy. By Clarence E. Mulford. 
 Hound from the North, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 House of the Whispering Pines, The. By Anna Katharine 
 . Green. 
 
 Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker. By S. Weir Mitchell, M.D. 
 Humoresque. By Fannie Hurst. 
 
 I Conquered. By Harold Titus. 
 Illustrious Prince, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. 
 In Another Girl's Shoes. By Berta Ruck. 
 Indifference of Juliet, The. By Grace S. Richmond. 
 Inez. aiL Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. 
 
Popular Copyright Novels 
 
 AT MODERATE PRICES 
 
 Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of 
 
 A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction 
 
 Infelice. By Augusta Evans Wilson. 
 
 Initials Only. By Anna Katharine Green. 
 
 Inner Law, The. By Will N. Harben. 
 
 Innocent. By Marie Corelli. 
 
 In Red and Gold. By Samuel Merwin. 
 
 Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu, The. By Sax Rohmer, 
 
 In the Brooding Wild. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 
 Intriguers, The. By William Le Queux. 
 
 Iron Furrow, The. By George C. Shedd. 
 
 Iron Trail, The. By Rex Beach. 
 
 Iron Woman, The. By Margaret Deland. 
 
 Ishmaet (111.) By Mrs. Southworth. 
 
 Island of Surprise. By Cyrus Townsend Brady, 
 
 I Spy. By Natalie Sumner Linclon. 
 
 It Pays to Smile. By Nina Wilcox Putnam. 
 
 I've Married Marjorie. By Margaret Widdemer. 
 
 Jean of the Lazy A. By B. M. Bower. 
 
 Jeanne of the Marshes. By E. Phillips Oppenheim, 
 
 Jennie Gerhatdt. By Theodore Dreiser. 
 
 Johnny Nelson. By Clarence E. Mulford. 
 
 Judgment House, The. By Gilbert Parker. 
 
 Keeper of the Door, The. By Ethel M. Del!. 
 
 Keith of the Border. By Randall Parrish. 
 
 Kent Knowles: Quahaug. By Joseph C. Lincoln. 
 
 Kingdom of the Blind, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheinie 
 
 King Spruce. By Holman Day. 
 
 Knave of Diamonds, The. By Ethel M. Dell. 
 
 La Chance Mine Mystery, The. By S. Carleton. 
 Lady Doc, The. By Caroline Lockhart. 
 Land-Girl's Love Story, A. By Berta Ruck. 
 Land of Strong Men, The. By A. M. Chisholm. 
 Last Straw, The. By Harold Titus. 
 Last Trail, The. By Zane Grey. 
 Laughing Bill Hvde. By Rex Beach. 
 Laughing Girl, The. By Robert W. Chambers. 
 Law Breakers, The. By Ridsrwetl Cullum. 
 Law of the Gun. The. By Ridgwell Cullum. 
 
YB 336/9 
 
 M545G83