"Sure, that's what you say, but wait till you see them! Oh, la, la, la!"--he kissed his fingers ecstatically--"I'll be glad to see 'em myself! But listen, Bud, here's the proposition: Let's take an oath right now, while we're starting out, that whatever comes up we'll always be true to each other. If one of us is wounded, the other stays with him; if he's in prison, he gets him out; if he's killed, he avenges his--" "Say," broke in Bud, jostling him rudely as he reached into the saddle-bags, "let me carry that bottle for a while." He took a big drink out of it to prevent De Lancey from getting it all and shoved it inside his overalls. "All right, pardner," he continued, with a mocking smile, "anything you say. I never use oaths myself much, but anything to oblige." "No, but I mean it, Bud!" cried De Lancey. "Here's the proposition now: Whatever happens, we stay with each other till this deal is finished; on all scratch cases we match money to see who's it; and if we tangle over some girl the best man wins and the other one stays away. We leave it to the girl which one wins. Will you shake hands on that?" "Don't need to," responded Bud; "I'll do it anyway." "Well, shake on it, then!" insisted De Lancey, holding out his hand. "Oh, Sally!" burst out Bud, hanging his head in embarrassment, "what's the use of getting mushy?" But a moment later he leaned over in his saddle and locked hands with a viselike grip. "My old man told me not to make no such promises," he muttered, "but I'll do it, being's it's you." V The journey to Fortuna is a scant fifty miles by measure, but within those eighty kilometers there is a lapse of centuries in standards. As Bud and De Lancey rode out of battle-scarred Agua Negra they traveled a good road, well worn by the Mexican wood-wagons that hauled in mesquit from the hills. Then, as they left the town and the wood roads scattered, the highway changed by degrees to a broad trail, dug deep by the feet of pack-animals and marked but lightly with wheels. It followed along the railroad, cutting over hills and down through gulches, and by evening they were in the heart of Old Mexico. Here were men in sandals and women barefooted; chickens tied up by the legs outside of brush _jacales_; long-nosed hogs, grunting fiercely as they skirmished for food; and half-naked children, staring like startled rabbits at the strangers. The smell of garlic and fresh-roasting coffee was in the air as they drew into town for the night, and their room was an adobe chamber with tile floor and iron bars across the windows. Riding south the next day they met _vaqueros_, mounted on wiry mustangs, who saluted them gravely, taking no shame for their primitive wooden saddle-trees and pommels as broad as soup-plates.