“None have seen him, _señor_. Either he has ridden up El Camino Real to spread the alarm, or else is hiding in the hills.” “He is not to be slain, remember. I want that word passed around. That man is mine when we take him prisoner. Small wonder it is that he did not ruin our plans!” “How were we to know, _señor_? Those at the mission treated him like a pestilence, and he led our men to believe he was who he seemed. We did not guess until he came here to the cañon and escaped when we would have held him prisoner. Yet he is an outlaw now--both white men and red seek him.” “There is amusement to be found in that fact,” was the laughing reply. “Remember that man is mine when he is taken. And remember, also, what I said about a guard to be left behind here at the rancho. The women in the ranch-house are to be kept in their room, and no one is to enter. No harm is to be offered them. The younger one is to be my wife, you understand, and the elder must remain with her to keep her from being frightened.” “It will be done, _señor_,” the chief replied, “though every man wants to join in the attack on the mission.” “Say to those left behind that I’ll see personally they receive their share of any loot.” “Very well, _señor_.” “And now let us consider the plans for attack. It will be a task of some hours, but we want no mistakes!” The caballero waited to hear no more. Step by step he withdrew from the wigwam and went back into the brush. One thought rang in his brain--no harm had come to Señorita Anita Fernandez and her _duenna_; they merely were being held prisoners. It was more difficult getting back to the crest than it had been descending, and there was as much need for caution. Through the darkness the caballero fought his way upward, fearful of dislodging pebbles and starting an avalanche that would betray him, grasping carefully at projecting rocks and roots, straining his muscles while the perspiration streamed from his face and neck, urged on by the thought of the scant time he had for his purpose. In time he reached the top, and for a moment was stretched exhausted on the ground, gasping for breath. Then he arose and walked slowly toward where he had left his horse, alert again, fearing discovery at every step. He mounted and rode slowly around the base of the butte, and then across a pasture where there was no reflection from the fires in the cañon. He could see the lights in the ranch-house, heard Indians screeching around it, and before one of the long adobe buildings there was a great fire where the hostiles were cooking. The caballero estimated the task he had set himself to do, and strove to keep from feeling downhearted; for it seemed almost an impossible thing with a couple hundred hostiles scattered about the place. How was he to reach the house, enter it, rescue two women and escape again?