"Of course the country is unsettled," explained the boy. "Ever since I came into it there has been one sort or another of unrest. When it isn't outright revolution it's politics and that's pretty near the same thing. There are prowling bands of outlaws, calling themselves soldiers, that the authorities can't reach. Look at those mountains over there! What government that has to give half its time or more to watching its own step, can manage to ferret out every nest of highwaymen in every cañon? Those boys are my big trouble, Jim! A raid from them is always on the books and there are times when I'm pretty near ready to throw up the sponge and drift. But it's a great land; a great land. And now you're with me!" His eyes shone. "I'll make you any sort of a proposition you call for, Jim, and together we'll make history. Not to mention barrels of money." Kendric's ever-ready imagination was snared. But he was in no position to forget that he had other fish to fry. "What do you know of your neighbors?" he asked. "Not much," admitted Bruce. "And yet enough to _sabe_ what you're driving at. The nearest are twenty miles away, at the Montezuma ranch. The boss of the outfit is your old friend Ruiz Rios. I told you that in my letter. I haven't the dead wood on him but it's open and shut that he'd as soon chip in on a cattle-stealing deal as anything else." "He doesn't own the Montezuma," said Kendric. "It's the same thing. The owner is a woman, his cousin, I believe. But she's away most of the time, and Rios does as he pleases." "You don't know the lady, then?" "Never saw her. Don't want to, since she's got Rios blood in her." "Let's get down and roll a smoke and talk," offered Kendric. They were on a grassy knoll; there were oaks and shade and grass for the horses. Bruce looked at him sharply, catching the sober note. But he said nothing until they were lying stretched out under the oaks, holding the tie ropes at the ends of which their horses browsed. "Cut her loose, Jim," he said then. "What's the story?" Kendric told him: Of his quest with Twisty Barlow; of Zoraida Castlemar and her ambitions; of his own situation in the household, a prisoner with today granted him only in exchange for his word to return by dawn; and finally of Betty Gordon. "Good God," gasped Bruce. "They're going it that strong? Out in the open, too! And laying their paws on an American girl. Whew!" Kendric added briefly an account of his being stopped in the pass. "It's a fair bet," he concluded, "that your raiders get their word straight from the Montezuma ranch. Which means, straight from the lips of Zoraida Castlemar." Bruce fell to plucking at the dry grass, frowning. "Funny thing, it strikes me, Jim, that if you're right she should give you the chance to tip me off. How do you figure that out?"