"Yes," replied Hard. "Are you all right?" "So. They whistle through my hair but they do not touch me," replied the musician, cheerfully. "Here they come!" cried Scott, impatiently. "Watch your shots!" The Indians were coming, and coming in a body. "Gosh, it's going to be all day with us in half a minute!" gasped Scott. "Let 'em have it as hard as you can, boys. We may be able to hold 'em long enough to give the women a chance to get the horses." Hard clenched his teeth and bent his eye on his rifle. In another moment the invaders would be upon them--when, sharp and decisive came the sound of shots; shots from among the foothills, followed by yells. There was a cry from the Indian who led the rush; a wavering of the line; and a stop. They broke into loud talk. In the meantime, the shots and yells continued. They seemed to come from two directions. "There's another crowd back in the hills. They've got another fight on their hands," muttered Scott, listening. "It's a flank attack and these fellows don't like it." "If it is----" "It is. Hear that!" There were more yells; the Yaquis outside flung themselves into their saddles and in another moment the two wounded men lying near the windows were all that remained of the attack. "By golly, I've heard of luck before, but this is a case of the pure and unadulterated article," said Scott, awed. Hard did not reply. He was taking a deep breath--the first in several minutes. Herrick whistled cheerfully. "Unless it's Angel Gonzales," continued Scott, pensively. "In that case it's a question of 'Go it, old woman; go it, b'ar.'" "Let's go after the horses and the women," said Hard. "The quicker we hit the trail for home the better my circulation's going to be. I think the Hards must have deteriorated considerably since the battle of Lexington. I'm getting to be a regular old woman." Scott laughed. "You're a pretty good pal in a fight, old man," he said, simply. "I think you winged one of those birds outside. Shall we go and have a look?" "Not I," replied Hard, decidedly. "It's unpleasant enough to me to kill a man without pawing him over afterward." Scott went outside and looked over the victims of the fight. "Dead, both of them," he said, briefly. "Come on, let's get out of this before their friends come back." And to the sounds of yells and shots in the distance they made their way toward the stream. CHAPTER XII A NIGHT RIDE When Li Yow clattered up the trail leading out of the river bed and up the mesa, he was a happy man, in spite of the fact that a horse was to him the last means of locomotion that he would have chosen for an all night trip, with the possible exception of a camel or an elephant. Except as objects for his scientific skill, horses were not dear to his heart. A wagon, a train, an automobile, these were sensible conveyances for an intellectual man of an old and distinguished family going about his business, but a horse, never!