Ladd averred the Yaqui would put
them into an impregnable position, that at the same time would prove
a death-trap for their pursuers. They exhausted every possibility,
and then, tired as they were, still kept on talking.
"What stuns me is that Rojas stuck to our trail," said Thorne, his
lined and haggard face expressive of dark passion. "He has followed
us into this fearful desert. He'll lose men, horses, perhaps his
life. He's only a bandit, and he stands to win no gold. If he
ever gets out of here it 'll be by herculean labor and by terrible
hardship. All for a poor little helpless woman--just a woman!
My God, I can't understand it."
"Shore--just a woman," replied Ladd, solemnly nodding his head.
Then there was a long silence during which the men gazed into the
fire. Each, perhaps, had some vague conception of the enormity
of Rojas's love or hate--some faint and amazing glimpse of the
gulf of human passion. Those were cold, hard, grim faces upon
which the light flickered.
"Sleep," said the Yaqui.
Thorne rolled in his blanket close beside Mercedes. Then one by
one the rangers stretched out, feet to the fire. Gale found that
he could not sleep. His eyes were weary, but they would not stay
shut; his body ached for rest, yet he could not lie still. The
night was so somber, so gloomy, and the lava-encompassed arroyo full
of shadows. The dark velvet sky, fretted with white fire, seemed to
be close. There was an absolute silence, as of death.
Pages:
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261