He rose from his chair and stood listening, not without a feeling of apprehension. As the concerted thudding of many hoofs drew closer and closer he ran into the cabin and strapped on his six-shooter. He had been at a complete loss to interpret Old Man Selden's later attitude toward him, and was wary of a trap. The sounds he heard could mean nothing to him except that the Poison Oakers were at last riding upon him to begin their raid. Suddenly from the other direction came the clattering hoofbeats of a single galloping horse. Silvery under the magic light of the moon, a white horse burst into view, galloping over a little rise to the south. It carried a rider. Now came a familiar "Who-hoo!" And Jessamy Selden soon was bending from her saddle at the cabin door. "Thank goodness, I'm in time!" she said. "I didn't know when they would start, and I waited too long." "What in the mischief are you doing in the saddle this time of night?" he demanded. "Oh, that's nothing! I get out of bed sometimes and saddle up for a moonlight ride. I love it." "But--" "Here they come! I wanted to get here ahead of them and warn you to pretend you were expecting them. You're--you're supposed to know." "I'm supposed to know what?" "About the Mona Fiesta. It's to be observed here on the Old Ivison Place. It always is. And--and you're supposed to know it." "How explicit you aren't! Well, what--" "Sh! There they are! I can't explain now." Oliver's thoughts were moving swiftly, and he did not put them aside even when he saw his gate being opened to a large company of horsemen. "I've got you," he said. "Your little attempt at subterfuge has failed again. Those are the Showut Poche-dakas coming?" She nodded in her slow, emphatic manner. "Uh-huh! I see. And you might have told me many days ago that they would come. And if that isn't so, you could have got here much earlier tonight to warn me in time. But that would have given me an opportunity to question you, and this you didn't want. So you waited till they were almost upon me, then made a Sheridan dash to warn me, when there would be no time to answer embarrassing questions. Pretty clever, sister! But you see I'm dead on to your little game." Her laugh was as near to a giggle as he had ever heard from her. "You're a master analyst," she praised. "I'll 'fess up. It's just as you say. You know my nature makes it necessary for me to dodge direct issues, where your mystery is concerned. But they're right on us--go out and meet 'em." "You'll wait?" "Sure." The foremost riders of the long cavalcade were now abreast the cabin, and Oliver Drew stepped toward them as they halted their ponies. The strong light of the full moon was sufficient to reveal the wrinkled-leather skin of old Chupurosa Hatchinguish, who rode in the lead, sitting his blanketed horse as straight as a buck of twenty years. Oliver reached him and held out a hand. "Welcome to the Hummingbird," he said in Spanish.