"No, sir!" cried McNally, "not any! Jes' struck town, and am goin' to have a _time_!" in which determination he was cheered by all the bystanders. I did not know where to turn; Johnny was away on one of his trips, and Danny Randall was not to be found. Finally inspiration served me. "Come down first and see Yank," I urged. "Poor old Yank is crippled and can't move." That melted them at once. They untied their long-suffering animals, and we staggered off down the trail. On the way down I tried, but in vain, to arouse them to a sense of danger. "You've let everybody in town know you have a lot of dust," I pointed out. McNally merely laughed recklessly. "Good boys!" he cried; "wouldn't harm a fly!" and I could veer him to no other point of view. Barry agreed to everything, very solemn and very owlish. We descended on Yank like a storm. I will say that McNally at any time was irresistible and irrepressible, but especially so in his cups. We laughed ourselves sick that afternoon. The Morenas were enchanted. Under instructions, and amply supplied with dust, Morena went to town and returned with various bottles. Senora Morena cooked a fine supper. In the meantime, I, as apparently the only responsible member of the party, unsaddled the animals, and brought their burdens into the cabin. Although McNally's statement as to the loads consisting exclusively of gold was somewhat of an exaggeration, nevertheless the _cantinas_ were very heavy. Not knowing what else to do with them, I thrust them under Yank's bunk. The evening was lively, I will confess it, and under the influence of it my caution became hazy. Finally, when I at last made my way back to my own camp, I found myself vastly surprised to discover Yank hobbling along by my side. I don't know why he came with me, and I do not think he knew either. Probably force of habit. At any rate, we left the other four to sleep where they would. I remember we had some difficulty in finding places to lie. The sun was high when we awoke. We were not feeling very fresh, to say the least; and we took some little time to get straightened around. Then we went down to the Morena cabin. I am not going to dwell on what we found there. All four of its inmates had been killed with buckshot, and the place ransacked from end to end. Apparently the first volley had killed our former partners and Senora Morena as they lay. Morena had staggered to his feet and halfway across the room.