The energy with which she uttered these last words had something pathetic in it. As if to avoid further confession, she urged the tired pony to a shambling trot and Brainard again found difficulty in keeping the pace. After another half hour of this blind progress behind his taciturn guide, the girl stopped before what seemed to be a mound of dirt and remarked: “Here’s Gunnison’s. Maybe the old man is abed—I’ll raise him for you.” She proceeded to pound vigorously with the butt of her quirt on the door of the dugout. Presently there was a sound within, and a human head appeared at the door. “Here’s a gentleman who wants to go to some place in Mexico,” the girl said in her gentle Southern voice. “I told him it was pretty fur from these parts, but I reckon you know how to git there, if any one does.” “Will you put me up for the night, anyway?” Brainard asked. “That’s the first thing.” “I can do that,” the sleepy Mr. Gunnison replied after a time, coming out of the door. “But if you be in a hurry to reach Mexico, stranger, you’d better go back to the railroad you come from, and take the next train.” “We’ll see about that in the morning,” Brainard replied. The girl had already unfastened the bag and mounted her pony. “Much obliged to you, miss, for all your help!” “That’s all right, stranger,” she said cheerily, starting the pony. “Going home now?” Brainard asked. “Yes!” This childish figure, astride the tired pony, riding back into the lonely mountains, seemed to him extremely pathetic. “Good-by!” he called after her. “Hope we shall meet again some day!” “Reckon we might, stranger!” came back to him in the soft voice. “Perhaps in New York?” “Ye-as—or in Mexico.” Then the pony’s feet padded rapidly off into the darkness, and the girl was gone. “Who is she—do you know?” he asked the man. “Belongs over in Moniment, in one of them mining camps, I expect,” the old man replied indifferently. “I seen her riding past this afternoon.” “Where is she going alone at night?” “I dunno—guess she knows her own business.” “Such a small girl!” “They know how to look after themselves, in these parts, as soon as they can creep,” the old man remarked calmly. “They have to!” “Monument!” Brainard repeated to himself, wondering where he had heard that name before. “That’s what they call it. It ain’t much of a place now. There used to be a big mine near there, but it ain’t been worked in years. . . . You can come right in and bunk alongside of me, stranger.” XI Brainard did not follow the old plainsman’s advice to stick to the railroad for his travels. Instead, he induced Gunnison to leave his dugout and guide his chance guest across the Mexican border.