"Yes. He come morning, take everything--horses, chow, money, everything! Then Mr. Scott's folks they come in afternoon. Only thlee horse for everybody. Mr. Scott say he mend wagon and they come over to-morrow. I come to-night to see sick boy. When I get up on mesa I see fire--don't know who make him but mebbe bandits." Mrs. Van Zandt turned pale. Clutching her bathrobe tightly she made for the door. "Look here," she called, over her shoulder, "you look after the boy and mind you don't spill any of that news before him. I'll get you some breakfast and see what's to be done." Then she came back. "They were all right when you left them? The young lady, too?" she queried, anxiously. "Yes, they all light. Both them ladies all light." "Both! Who's the other?" demanded Mrs. Van Zandt, instantly. "Mr. Hellick got flend--Mrs. Conlad," said Li, wearily. "She come day before yest'day--from Mexico City. Mr. Hard's flend, too." "Good Heavens, now what do you suppose the heathen means by that?" gasped the astonished woman. "Come here," she added, sternly, and seizing the Chinaman by the sleeve of his blouse, she led him into the room occupied by Polly. Dramatically, she pointed to the photograph on the wall. "Is that the woman you're talking about?" Li examined the face gravely and nodded. "Yes," he said, "only younger here." Mrs. Van released him suddenly. "All right, go on in and see the boy," she said, and hurried down the street. "Fire and bandits--and I let that poor girl go over there with those men!" she gasped. "And what on earth is that woman doing at Casa Grande? It's either a scandal or a romance, that's a cinch!" "What's the matter? Whose horse was that? Great snakes, Mrs. Van, what the devil----" Johnson, hastily and scantily attired, came down the street, followed by the others. Cochise had waked up the camp. Mrs. Van looked at them tragically. "It's the Casa Grande Chinaman come over to see Jimmy. He rode Cochise," she sobbed. "What'd he ride Cochise for? What's come over Marc Scott, lendin' Cochise to a Chink?" "Tom, something awful has happened," and she burst into the story. "Didn't the heathen go back to help?" "I guess he tried to, but Cochise got scared and wouldn't go. What do you suppose it is ?" "Gosh, I dunno! Don't sound like Pachuca; he wouldn't come back a second time. Sure looks bad." "And the feller says Mrs. Conrad's there. What's he mean by that, do you think?" "Who's she?" "Mr. Hard's friend; the widow woman that lives down South. Upon my word, Tom Johnson, I do believe that's the woman and the trouble that the ouija meant and I thought all the time it was talking about Polly Street!" "Dunno, I'm sure. Where's Cochise?" "Gone down to the corral."