Presently Vaca began to sing; softly at first, then with insane vehemence as the fever mounted to his brain. Waring smiled with dry lips. The Mexican had stood the journey well. A white man in Vaca's condition would have gone to pieces hours ago. He called to Ramon, who gave Vaca water. The Mexican drank greedily, and threw the empty canteen into the bushes. Waring listened for some hint, some crazy boast as to the whereabouts of the stolen money. But Vaca rode on, occasionally breaking into a wild song, half Yaqui, half Mexican. The youth Ramon trembled, fearing that the gringo would lose patience. Across the northern end of the cañon the winnowing heat waves died to the level of the ground. Brown shadows shot from the western wall and spread across the widening outlet. The horses stepped briskly, knowing that they were near water. Waring became more alert as they approached the adobe buildings of the rancho. Vaca had drifted into a dull silence. Gray with suffering and grim with hate for the gringo, he rode stolidly, praying incoherently that the gunman might be stricken dead as he rode. The raw edge of the disappearing sun leveled a long flame of crimson across the mesa. The crimson melted to gold. The gold paled to a brief twilight. A faint star twinkled in the north. Dogs crowded forward in the dusk, challenging the strange riders. A figure filled the lighted doorway of the Armigo ranch-house. The dogs drew back. Ramon dismounted and helped his uncle down. Waring sat his horse until Juan Armigo stepped from the doorway and asked who came. Waring answered with his name. "Si! Si!" exclaimed Armigo. "The señor is welcome." Waring dismounted. "Juan, I have two of your friends here; José Vaca and Ramon Ortego." Armigo seemed surprised. "José Vaca is wounded?" he queried hesitatingly. Waring nodded. "And the horses; they shall have feed, water, everything--I myself--" "Thanks. But I'll look after the horses, Juan. I'm taking Vaca and Ramon to Sonora. See what you can do for Vaca. He's pretty sick." "It shall be as the señor says. And the señor has made a fight?" "With those hombres? Not this journey! José Vaca made a mistake; that's all." Armigo, perturbed, shuffled to the house. Waring unsaddled the horses and turned them into the corral. As he lifted the saddle from Vaca's horse, he hesitated. It was a big stock saddle and heavy; yet it seemed too heavy. On his knees he turned it over, examining it. He smiled grimly as he untied the little canvas sacks and drew them from the tapaderas. "Thought he showed too much boot for a hard-riding chola," muttered Waring. He rose and threw some hay to the horses. He could hear Ramon and Armigo talking in the ranch-house. Taking his empty canteen from his own saddle, he untied the sacks and slipped the gold-pieces, one by one, into the canteen. He scooped up sand and filled the canteen half full. The gold no longer jingled as he shook it.