Jim Lash smoked his pipe by the hearth and
played with the cat on his knee. Thorne and Mercedes were at
the table with pencil and paper; and he was trying his best to keep
his attention from his wife's beautiful, animated face long enough
to read and write a little Spanish. Gale and Nell sat in a corner
watching the bright fire.
There came a low knock on the door. It may have been an ordinary
knock, for it did not disturb the women; but to Belding and his
rangers it had a subtle meaning.
"Who's that?" asked Belding, as he slowly pushed back his chair
and looked at Ladd.
"Yaqui," replied the ranger.
"Come in," called Belding.
The door opened, and the short, square, powerfully built Indian
entered. He had a magnificent head, strangely staring, somber
black eyes, and very darkly bronzed face. He carried a rifle
and strode with impressive dignity.
"Yaqui, what do you want?" asked Belding, and repeated his
question in Spanish.
"Senor Dick," replied the Indian.
Gale jumped up, stifling an exclamation, and he went outdoors
with Yaqui. He felt his arm gripped, and allowed himself to be
led away without asking a question. Yaqui's presence was always
one of gloom, and now his stern action boded catastrophe. Once
clear of trees he pointed to the level desert across the river,
where a row of campfires shone bright out of the darkness.
"Raiders!" ejaculated Gale.
Then he cautioned Yaqui to keep sharp lookout, and, hurriedly
returning to the house, he called the men out and told them there
were rebels or raiders camping just across the line.
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