The hour had come for Dick Gale to face his great problem. It was natural that he hung back a little at first; natural that when he went forward to look at the quiet sleepers he did so with a grim and stern force urging him. Yaqui stirred, roused, yawned, got up; and, though he did not smile at Gale, a light shone swiftly across his dark face. His shoulder drooped and appeared stiff, otherwise he was himself. Mercedes lay in deep slumber. Thorne had a high fever, and was beginning to show signs of restlessness. Ladd seemed just barely alive. Jim Lash slept as if he was not much the worse for his wound. Gale rose from his examination with a sharp breaking of his cold mood. While there was life in Thorne and Ladd there was hope for them. Then he faced his problem, and his decision was instant. He awoke Mercedes. How wondering, wistful, beautiful was that first opening flash of her eyes! Then the dark, troubled thought came. Swiftly she sat up. "Mercedes--come. Are you all right? Laddy is alive Thorne's not--not so bad. But we've got a job on our hands! You must help me." She bent over Thorne and laid her hands on his hot face. Then she rose--a woman such as he had imagined she might be in an hour of trial. Gale took up Ladd as carefully and gently as possible. "Mercedes, bring what you can carry and follow me," he said. Then, motioning for Yaqui to remain there, he turned down the slope with Ladd in his arms. Neither pausing nor making a misstep nor conscious of great effort, Gale carried the wounded man down into the arroyo. Mercedes kept at his heels, light, supple, lithe as a panther. He left her with Ladd and went back. When he had started off with Thorne in his arms he felt the tax on his strength. Surely and swiftly, however, he bore the cavalryman down the trail to lay him beside Ladd. Again he started back, and when he began to mount the steep lava steps he was hot, wet, breathing hard. As he reached the scene of that night's camp a voice greeted him. Jim Lash was sitting up. "Hello, Dick. I woke some late this mornin'. Where's Laddy? Dick, you ain't a-goin' to say--" "Laddy's alive--that's about all," replied Dick. "Where's Thorne an' Mercedes? Look here, man. I reckon you ain't packin' this crippled outfit down that awful trail?" "Had to, Jim. An hour's sun--would kill--both Laddy and Thorne. Come on now." For once Jim Lash's cool good nature and careless indifference gave precedence to amaze and concern. "Always knew you was a husky chap. But, Dick, you're no hoss! Get me a crutch an' give me a lift on one side." "Come on," replied Gale. "I've no time to monkey."