The man remained silent and Alison, remembering that he was an outlaw, did not doubt but that some of her own friends were in pursuit, for it was he who was concerned in the thefts which Pike Smith had conducted. He knew where Steve was. At that thought her heart gave a sudden bound. “You are Carlos,” she said. “I remember about you. The time is very short before my friends will be here. I must hide you, for you cannot get very far away with that hurt. I promise not to tell where you are if you in return will do something for me.” She looked around the bare room but a possibility occurred to her. “Ah, señorita,” murmured the man, “what can a poor wounded, as I, do for you?” “A great deal, and perhaps I can do you a good turn.” She listened for a moment to the howling wind shrieking around the little hut. It was the only sound she heard. There was no whistle of Hail Columbia. “I can perhaps help you by getting word to your mother,” she continued, “but first I must make you safe here.” “Ah, señorita, an angel you are.” The man’s dark eyes lost some of their fierceness as he gazed at her from under his matted locks. “I will tell you why I wish to do this,” said Alison. “I once promised your mother that so far as I had power to prevent it no harm should befall you. I did not foresee this situation, but I will not inform upon you if you will tell me where Steve Hayward is.” The man looked around startled, as if to see if escape were possible. “No, no,” said Alison, “don’t think of that. You would be taken. Quick, tell me. Would you have me give you up?” She spoke impatiently and the man staggered to his feet, but dropped back again upon the bench with an expression of pain. “I was foolish to come back,” he muttered to himself in Spanish. “Then why did you do it?” asked Alison. He looked at her surprised. “You know my language, señorita?” “Yes, and I can be well understood by your mother. Now I will hide you. Lie down there.” She pointed to the dark corner by the chimney. The man obeyed her and she gathered up the armfuls of brush which Neal had brought in and scattered them over Carlos till he was fairly hidden. “That will do very well,” said Alison. “Now, I am waiting for you to tell me what I asked. Otherwise, you understand, you are in my power.” She bent her ear close to the pile of brush and the man said, “I perceebe, señorita, and I can do no less. I am grateful that you help me and I will also help you, but I know not where Stephen Hayward is.” “Where did you take him?” asked Alison eagerly. “You see that I know of his having been taken away by Pike Smith and his men.” “We took him westward, señorita, into the mountains. There we left him.” “Why did you leave him? What was your object?” “There were signs of Indians. We have fear of attack. We must escape. One horse is go lame, therefore we must leave him.” “What Indians were they?” “We are told the Apaches.”