"You mean--?"

"--That he serves notice he's going to kill our friends if I don't give myself up to him."

"But would he? Dare he?"

Yeager shrugged. "It will happen in the usual Mexican way--killed by accident while trying to escape, or else ambushed by Federals on the desert while coming home, according to the story that will be dished up to the papers. He will be full of regrets and apologies to our Government, but that won't help Threewit or Frank any."

"Don't you think he's bluffing? Pasquale hasn't a thing against either of them. He surely wouldn't murder them in cold blood."

"I don't know whether he is or not. But it's up to me to sit in and take cards. They went down to Noche Buena on my account. I'm going down on theirs."

Lennox stared incredulously at him. "You don't mean you're going to give yourself up. Pasquale would hang up your hide to dry."

"That's just what he would do, after he had boiled me in oil or given me some other pleasant diversion. No, I reckon I'll not give myself up.

I'll join his army again."

"I give it up, Steve. Tell me the answer."

"As a private this time."

"Fat chance you'll have, with Friend Harrison there to spot you, not to mention the old boy himself and Culvera."

"It won't be Steve Yeager that joins. It will be a poor peon from the hills named Pedro or Juan or Pablo."

"You're going to rig up as a Mexican?"

"Some guesser, Lennox."

"You can't put it over, not with your face looking like a pounded beefsteak. I judge you don't know what an Exhibit A you are at present.

The first time Chad looked at you, he would recognize the result of his uppercuts and swings."

"So he would. I'll have to wait a week or so. Send Juan back to Pasquale and tell him you hear I'm in the Lone Star country where I used to punch. Say you've sent for me with an offer to take Harrison's place in the company, and that if I come you'll arrange with him to have me taken by his men while we're doing a set near the line. He'll fall for that because he'll be so keen to get me that any chance will look good to him. You'll have to give Juan a tip not to let it out I'm here."

"What can you do if you get into Pasquale's camp as one of his men?"

"I don't know. Something will turn up."

"You're taking a big chance, Steve."

"Not because I want to. But I've got to do what I can for the boys. This ain't just the time for a 'watchful waiting' policy, seems to me. If you've got anything better to offer, I'm agreeable to listen."

"The only thing I can think of is to appeal to Uncle Sam."

"That won't get us much. But there's no harm in trying. Have the old man stir up a big dust at Washington. After plenty of red tape an official representation will be made to Pasquale. He will lie himself black in the face. More correspondence. More explanations. Finally, if the prisoners are still alive, they will start home. Mebbe they'll get here.

Mebbe they won't."

"Then you don't think it's worth trying?"

"Sure I do. Every little helps. It might make Pasquale sit steady in the boat till I get a chance to pull off something."

When Daisy Ellington heard of the plan she went straight to Yeager.

"What's this I hear about you committing suicide?" she demanded.

"News to me, compadre," smiled the puncher.

"You're not really going down there to shove your head into that den of wolves, are you?" Without waiting for an answer she pushed on to a prediction. "Because if you do, they'll surely snap it off."

"Wish you'd change your brand of prophecy, nina. You see, this is the only head I've got. I'm some partial to it."

"Then you had better keep away from that old Pasquale and Chad Harrison.

Don't be foolish, Steve." She caught the lapels of his coat and shook him fondly. "If you don't know when you're well off, your friends do.

We're not going to let you go."

"Threewit and Farrar," he reminded her.

"They'll have to take their chance. Besides, Pasquale isn't going to hurt them. There wouldn't be any sense in it. So there's no use us getting panicky."

"I don't reckon I'm exactly panicky, Daisy. But it won't do to forget that Pasquale is one bad hombre. Harrison is another, and he's got it in for the boys. We can't lie down and quit on them, can we? I notice they didn't do that with me."

"What good will it do for you to go and get trapped too? It's different with you. They've got it in for you down there. It's just foolhardiness for you to go back," she told him sharply.

"You're sure some little boss," he laughed. "I'm willing to be reasonable. If I can prove to you that I stand a good chance to pull it off down at Noche Buena, will you feel different about it?"

"Yes, if you can--but you can't," she agreed, flashing at him the provocative little smile that was one of her charms.

"Bet you a box of chocolates against a ham sandwich I can."

"You're on," she nodded airily.

"Better order that ham sandwich," he advised, mocking her lazily with his friendly eyes.

"Oh, I don't know. You're not so much, Cactus Center. I expect to be eating chocolates soon."

Her gay audacity always pleased him. He settled himself for explanations soberly, but back of his gravity lay laughter.

"You've got the wrong hunch on me. I ain't any uneducated sheepherder.

Don't run away with that notion. Me, I went through the first year of the High School at Tucson. I know all about _amo, amas, amat_, and how to make a flying tackle. Course oncet in a while I slip up in grammar.

There's heap too much grammar in the world, anyhow. It plumb chokes up a man's language."

"All right, Steve. Show me. I'm from Joplin, Missouri. When are you going to do all this proving?"

"We won't set a date. Some time before I leave."

Yeager walked from the studio to his rooming-place. Ruth Seymour met him on the porch and stopped him. It was the first time he had seen her since their return.

"Is it true--what Mr. Manderson says--that you are going back to Noche Buena?" she flung at him.

"I'm certainly getting on the society page," he laughed. "Manderson has a pretty good reputation. I shouldn't wonder if what he says is true."