"_Bueno._ I go," said Lopez, and started toward the door. Then he turned to Gilbert. "_Astuavago adios._ Maybe we will meet again, maybe no. _Quien sabe?_" He waved his hand, gave one last look at Pell's limp form, and cried, "_Adios!_" He was gone--vanished like a ghost. They all were mute in the little room. They heard the hoof beats of the horses as they galloped away. Fainter and fainter grew the sound. Then silence. And meanwhile the great night was falling like a curtain around them all. Through the doorway came the last beautiful beams of the sun. The mountains were like giant sentinels, row on row, unbelievably near in the semi-darkness. Far off, now and then, a bird could be heard calling. Soon darkness would envelop the earth, and this day of doom would be gone forever. Never might they see Pancho Lopez again. Gilbert would go north; and Lucia--He could not think. Hardy broke the silence. He came over and looked down at Pell. "We can't touch him till the coroner gits here," he said grimly. There were, as always, ghastly details to be attended to. "But I better make sure," said "Red," kneeling beside the body. "Right in the head. Not a chance." He was peering down at the gaunt face. "No, not a chance when you get it there." Angela, hearing something outside, had rushed to the door and looked into the growing darkness. "I thought--What was that?" she exclaimed. They all listened. Far off a shot could be heard--then another. But it must have been miles away. "Red" sprang up. "Rangers!" he cried. "They're shooting!" "Where are they?" Hardy asked. "In the arroyo," "Red" replied. He was at the window, looking out. "You'll see 'em in a minute." The sound of shots came nearer. It was as though a miniature army were storming the section near the adobe. Uncle Henry, sitting in the alcove, was terrified. "What's that?" came his piercing voice. "They see him!" cried "Red." "Do you think they can hit him?" Angela cried. "Red" was certain they could not. "There ain't a chance, at that range," he said. But Uncle Henry was not so sure. "Mebbe they might, by accident." "Red" turned. "Accidents don't happen in Arizona--leastwise not with guns." The horses' hoof beats came nearer. Yet in all the excitement, Lucia did not move. She was keeping her silent place by the body of Morgan Pell. She did not even raise her head. "Here they come!" cried Angela, leaning out the doorway. "Red" had gone out of the room; but he came back now. "Better get inside," he warned them all, definite fear in his voice. "We're in range. It's pretty dangerous. As I said, accidents don't happen down in this country." "But I want to see!" cried Angela, dancing with excitement now.