the little party was winding southward along the river in the

direction of El Orobo Rancho, with the intention of putting

up there for the balance of the night where their prisoner

could be properly secured and guarded. As they rode away

from the dilapidated hut of the Indian the old man stood

silhouetted against the rectangle of dim light which marked the

open doorway, and shook his fist at the back of the departing

ranch foreman.

"El cochino!" he cackled, and turned back into his hut.

At El Orobo Rancho Barbara walked to and fro outside

the ranchhouse. Within her father sat reading beneath the rays

of an oil lamp. From the quarters of the men came the strains

of guitar music, and an occasional loud laugh indicated the

climax of some of Eddie Shorter's famous Kansas farmer

stories.

Barbara was upon the point of returning indoors when her

attention was attracted by the approach of a half-dozen horsemen.

They reined into the ranchyard and dismounted before

the office building. Wondering a little who came so late,

Barbara entered the house, mentioning casually to her father

that which she had just seen.

The ranch owner, now always fearful of attack, was upon

the point of investigating when Grayson rode up to the

veranda and dismounted. Barbara and her father were at the

door as he ascended the steps.

"Good news!" exclaimed the foreman. "I've got the bank

robber, and Brazos, too. Caught the sneakin' coyote up to--

up the river a bit." He had almost said "Jose's;" but caught

himself in time. "Someone's been cuttin' the wire at the north

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