Whereupon the detachment of rebels
retired to the bank of the river, beyond the white post that marked
the boundary line, and there they once more drew rein. Belding remained
by the corrals watching them, evidently still in threatening mood.
Presently a single rider left the troop and trotted his horse back
down the road. When he reached the corrals he was seen to halt
and pass something to Belding. Then he galloped away to join
his comrades.
Belding looked at whatever it was he held in his hand, shook his
burley head, and started swiftly for the house. He came striding
into the room holding a piece of soiled paper.
"Can't read it and don't know as I want to," he said, savagely.
"Beldin', shore we'd better read it," replied Ladd. "What we want
is a line on them Greasers. Whether they're Campo's men or
Salazar's, or just a wanderin' bunch of rebels--or Rojas's bandits.
Sabe, senor?"
Not one of the men was able to translate the garbled scrawl.
"Shore Mercedes can read it," said Ladd.
Thorne opened a door and called her. She came into the room
followed by Nell and Mrs. Belding. Evidently all three divined a
critical situation.
"My dear, we want you to read what's written on this paper,"
said Thorne, as he led her to the table. "It was sent in by rebels,
and--and we fear contains bad news for us."
Mercedes gave the writing one swift glance, then fainted in Thorne's
arms. He carried her to a couch, and with Nell and Mrs.
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