In the corrals they found not a horse nor even a burro. Nor did a quick survey of the hill top discover a single animal. There was nothing to do but _find_ some horse for Lois to ride. They could not get away without it. It was dangerous to stay where they were. The troops might be back at any moment. No one knew what treatment the girls might receive. They could not hope to hide here forever. Bandits looking for ransom were everywhere. What chance would there be for a fragile, lovely creature with golden hair like Lois? Raquel was frantic with the dilemma. She reasoned to herself, “Perhaps it’s better at that to stay here. Here it’s cool and comfortable; there’s _something_ to eat; wouldn’t it be better to take our chances so long as we’re alive than to go out on the desert with only the pinto to carry the two of us, and water and food?” Then she remembered the threatening placard on the hotel door; she thought of Georgie. It was a terrible decision, but they must go. She brought the pinto up to where Lois was waiting on the porch and spoke to him. She tied on the bag of food and put Lois’ things in her saddle bag, then she half lifted Lois on his back and took the bridle to reassure the horse, still wild at heart when any one but his mistress came too near. On a last impulse Raquel turned down the hill again toward the plaza, hoping to catch a glimpse of some stray horse. Perhaps some second-rate animal had been left behind, tied in a corral, or hobbled on the mountain side. As if in answer to prayer she heard a nicker and, down at the end of the plaza, under a flaming paradise tree, she caught sight of a large roan horse, awkwardly jumping toward the fountain in the center of the square. His front feet were hobbled. She helped Lois off again and left her in the shelter of the trees. Then Raquel ran out and up to the animal. He was thoroughly _manso_ and offered her his hind hoof for inspection. He had cast a shoe, but that was not what made him limp. A nail had become thrust into the tender part of the hoof just enough to hurt when pressure was put upon it. Raquel pulled it out and the friendly creature stretched out his head and wriggled his lips in appreciation. “And they left you behind for that, old boy!” Raquel talked to him as she quickly untied the hobble ropes. “Too lazy to find out what made him lame! Can you beat the ways of a péon with a horse? You were most certainly picked up over the border anyway, old boy. What a find just now, when I’d have given several kingdoms for a gentle horse.” The brown horse still limped, but only slightly. There was no saddle, no blanket, in sight. They could go by the bungalow again and pick up a blanket, and Raquel remembered a decrepit old saddle hanging in one of the stable sheds behind the house.