"No difference," answered Bud with a smile. "I am not afraid--not with you here, Amigo." "No, but the woman!" suggested Amigo, who read no jest in his words. "It is better that you should ride on--and leave me here." He smiled encouragingly, but a wild light was creeping into his eyes and Hooker knew what he meant. He desired to be left alone, to deal with Del Rey after the sure manner of the Yaquis. And yet, why not? Hooker gazed thoughtfully at the oncoming _rurales_ and walked swiftly back to Gracia. "This Indian is a friend of mine," he said, "and I can trust him. He says it will be better for us to ride on--and he will take care of the _rurales_." "Take care?" questioned Gracia, turning pale at a peculiar matter-of-fact tone in his voice. "Sure," said Hooker; "he says there are _revoltosos_ ahead. It will be better for you, he says, to ride on." "_Madre de Dios!_" breathed Gracia, clutching at her saddle; and then she nodded her head weakly. "You better get down for a minute," suggested Hooker, helping her quickly to the ground. "Here, drink some water--you're kinder faint. I'll be right back--jest want to say good-by." He strode over to where Amigo had posted himself behind a rock and laid a hand on his arm. "_Adios, Amigo!_" he said, but the Yaqui only glanced at him strangely. "Anything in my camp, you are welcome to it," added Hooker, but Amigo did not respond. His black eyes, far-seeing as a hawk's, were fixed intently before him, where Del Rey came galloping in the lead. "You go now!" he said, speaking with an effort, and Hooker understood. There was no love, no hate, left in that mighty carcass--he was all warrior, all Yaqui, and he wanted Del Rey to himself. "We'll be going," Hooker said to Gracia, returning swiftly, and his subdued tones made her start. She felt, as one feels at a funeral, the hovering wings of death, yet she vaulted into her saddle and left her thoughts unsaid. They rode on down the valley, spurring yet holding back, and then with a roar that made them jump the heavy Mauser spoke out--one shot! And no more. There was a hush, a long wait, and Amigo rose slowly from behind his rock. [Illustration: With a roar that made them jump the heavy Mauser spoke out] "God!" exclaimed Hooker, as he caught the pose, and his voice sounded a requiem for Manuel del Rey. Then, as Gracia crossed herself and fell to sobbing, he leaned forward in his saddle and they galloped away. XXVI Though men may make a jest of it in books, it is a solemn thing to kill a man, even to be near when one is killed. If Gracia had slain Del Rey herself in a passion her hot blood might have buoyed her up, but now her whole nature was convulsed with the horror of it and she wilted like a flower.