Bud reached for his rifle, jacked up a cartridge, and sat crosswise in his saddle. He rode warily, watching the distant runner, until suddenly he pulled in his horse and threw up a welcoming hand. The man was Amigo--no other could come down a hillside so swiftly--and he was signaling him to wait. "Who is that man?" asked Gracia, as she reined in at his side. "Do you know him?" "Sure do!" responded Hooker jovially. "He's the best friend I got in Mexico! "_Kai_, Amigo!" he hailed, as the Yaqui came quartering down the hill, and, apparently oblivious of the oncoming pursuers, he rode out of the trail to meet him. They struck hands and Amigo flashed his familiar smile, glancing shyly over the horse's back at the daughter of the Aragons. "I knew horse," he explained, with a gentle caress for Copper Bottom. "My people--up there--kill Mexicans! Where you go?" "North--to the line," answered Bud, pointing up the pass. "_Muy malo!_" frowned the Yaqui, glancing once more at the woman behind. "_Muchos revoltosos!_" "Where?" asked Bud. "Everywhere!" replied Amigo with a comprehensive wave of the hand. "But no matter," he added simply. "I will go with you. Who are these horsemen behind?" "_Rurales!_" responded Hooker, and the Yaqui's black eyes dilated. "Yes," nodded Bud as he read the swift question in their glance. "He is there, too--Del Rey!" "_Que bueno!_" exclaimed the Indian, fixing his eagle glance upon the riders. He showed his white teeth in a smile. In an instant he saw his opportunity, he saw his enemy riding into a trap, and turned his face to the pass. "Come!" he said, laying hold of a _látigo_ strap, and as Hooker loped on up the steady incline he ran along at his stirrup. In his right hand he still carried the heavy Mauser, but his sandaled feet bore him forward with tireless strides, and only the heaving of his mighty chest told the story of the pace. "Let me take your gun," suggested Hooker, as they set off on their race, but Amigo in his warrior's pride only shook his head and motioned him on and on. So at last they gained the rugged summit, where the granite ribs of the mountain crop up through the sands of the wash and the valley slopes away to the north. To the south was Del Rey, still riding after them, but Amigo beckoned Bud beyond the reef and looked out to the north. "_Revoltosos!_" he exclaimed, pointing a sun-blackened hand at a distant ridge. "_Revoltosos!_" he said again, waving his hand to the east. "Here," waving toward the west, "no!" "Do you know that country?" inquired Hooker, nodding at the great plain with its chains of parallel Sierras, but the Indian shook his head. "No," he said; "but the best way is straight for that pass." He pointed at a distant wedge cut down between the blue of two ridges, and scanned the eastern hills intently. "Men!" he cried, suddenly indicating the sky-line of the topmost ridge. "I think they are _revoltosos_," he added gravely. "They will soon cross your trail."