Billy, Bridge, and the Mexican wheeled toward the doorway

simultaneously to learn the cause of the girl's fright, and as

they did so found themselves covered by four carbines in the

hands of as many men.

As his eyes fell upon the faces of the intruders the

countenance of the Mexican fell, while his wife dropped to the floor

and embraced his knees, weeping.

"Wotinell?" ejaculated Billy Byrne. "What's doin'?"

"We seem to have been made prisoners," suggested Bridge;

"but whether by Villistas or Carranzistas I do not know."

Their host understood his words and turned toward the

two Americans.

"These are Pesita's men," he said.

"Yes," spoke up one of the bandits, "we are Pesita's men,

and Pesita will be delighted, Miguel, to greet you, especially

when he sees the sort of company you have been keeping.

You know how much Pesita loves the gringos!"

"But this man does not even know us," spoke up Bridge.

"We stopped here to get a meal. He never saw us before. We

are on our way to the El Orobo Rancho in search of work.

We have no money and have broken no laws. Let us go our

way in peace. You can gain nothing by detaining us, and as

for Miguel here--that is what you called him, I believe--I

think from what he said to us that he loves a gringo about as

much as your revered chief seems to."

Miguel looked his appreciation of Bridge's defense of him;

but it was evident that he did not expect it to bear fruit. Nor

did it. The brigand spokesman only grinned sardonically.

"You may tell all this to Pesita himself, senor," he said.

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