"I reckon you'll all be some surprised when you see Casita," went on Ladd. "It's half burned an' half tore down. An' the rebels are livin' fat. There was rumors of another federal force on the road from Casa Grandes. I seen a good many Americans from interior Mexico, an' the stories they told would make your hair stand up. They all packed guns, was fightin' mad at Greasers, an' sore on the good old U. S. But shore glad to get over the line! Some were waitin' for trains, which don't run reg'lar no more, an' others were ready to hit the trails north." "Laddy, what knocks me is Rojas holding Thorne prisoner, trying to make him tell where Mercedes had been hidden," said Belding. "Shore. It 'd knock anybody." "The bandit's crazy over her. That's the Spanish of it," replied Belding, his voice rolling. "Rojas is a peon. He's been a slave to the proud Castilian. He loves Mercedes as he hates her. When I was down in Durango I saw something of these peons' insane passions. Rojas wants this girl only to have her, then kill her. It's damn strange, boys, and even with Thorne here our troubles have just begun." "Tom, you spoke correct," said Jim Ladd, in his cool drawl. "Shore I'm not sayin' what I think," added Ladd. But the look of him was not indicative of a tranquil optimism. Thorne was put to bed in Gale's room. He was very weak, yet he would keep Mercedes's hand and gaze at her with unbelieving eyes. Mercedes's failing hold on hope and strength seemed to have been a fantasy; she was again vivid, magnetic, beautiful, shot through and through with intense and throbbing life. She induced him to take food and drink. Then, fighting sleep with what little strength he had left, at last he succumbed. For all Dick could ascertain his friend never stirred an eyelash nor a finger for twenty-seven hours. When he awoke he was pale, weak, but the old Thorne. "Hello, Dick; I didn't dream it then," he said. "There you are, and my darling with the proud, dark eyes--she's here?" "Why, yes, you locoed cavalryman." "Say, what's happened to you? It can't be those clothes and a little bronze on your face.... Dick, you're older--you've changed. You're not so thickly built. By Gad, if you don't look fine!" "Thanks. I'm sorry I can't return the compliment. You're about the seediest, hungriest-looking fellow I ever saw.... Say, old man, you must have had a tough time." A dark and somber fire burned out the happiness in Thorne's eyes. "Dick, don't make me--don't let me think of that fiend Rojas!.... I'm here now. I'll be well in a day or two. Then!..."