"It is lonely," Mrs. Van said to herself. "I don't know as I ever felt it so much before. I hope it don't mean that we're going to have trouble. Sometimes I think I must be psychic--I seem to sense things so. Wish that girl had stayed at home, but, Lord, I'd of done the same thing at her age. That's a youngster's first idea when things go wrong--to run away. As though you could run away from things!" The lady shook her head pessimistically and drew her sweater more closely about her as the air grew chillier. A short plump figure with a shawl wrapped around its head came out from the back of the house and melted into the darkness. "Is that you, Dolores?" "Si. The deeshes all feenish," said Dolores, promptly. "Did you wash out the dish towels?" "Si. All done. I go to bed." Dolores disappeared. "You're a liar," breathed Mrs. Van, softly. "You ain't goin' to bed, you're goin' to set and spoon with that good-looking cousin of yours. Well, go to it. You're only young once and this country'd drive a woman to most anything." Her eyes twinkled humorously. When Mrs. Van's eyes twinkled you forgot that her face was hard. "My, but they're hittin' it up on Broadway about this time! Let's see--it'll be about eleven--the theatres just lettin' out, crowds going up and down and pouring into restaurants. Say, ain't it queer the difference in people's lives? There's them sitting on plush and eating lobster, and here's me looking into emptiness and half expecting to see a Yaqui grinning at me from behind a bush! Hullo, you back?" Scott, accompanied by Hard, came down the street again. Both seemed disturbed. "Well," remarked the former, grimly. "She's started." "Started?" Mrs. Van rose. "What do you mean by that?" "I got Jack Morgan's mother on the 'phone," said Scott. "Seems she'd been trying to get us. The girl got into Conejo about six--just after our train pulled out--tried to get us on the 'phone and couldn't; so she got a machine and is on the way over." "Got a machine!" Mrs. Van gasped. "Are the Morgans crazy?" "Jack and his wife have gone over to Mescal with their car and there's nobody home but the old lady and the youngsters. Old lady Morgan's deaf and hollers over the wire so I couldn't get much of what she said," continued Scott, ruefully. "I made up my mind that she'd got old Mendoza to bring her over in his Ford. Guess it's up to me to harness up and go over to meet them." "I should say so. That girl must be scared to death if nothing worse has happened to her." "Nothing worse will happen to her with Mendoza--unless he runs her into an arroyo. Mendoza's principles are better than his eyesight. But, believe me, she deserves to be scared. It might put a little sense into her." "Shall I drive over with you?" queried Hard. "No, but you might help Mrs. Van move our things down to Jimmy's. I thought we'd put her in our shack, Mrs. Van, and you could come up and stay with her." And Scott swung off into the direction of the corral.