They were just passing a clump of dense shrubbery as he spoke, and hardly had the last word left his lips ere his spirited steed reared, and had he not been a matchless rider, he must have been hurled headlong from the saddle. As it was, before he fully recovered his seat, a lariat was thrown over his head, and his arms firmly secured to his side. While two men, armed with revolvers, held his horse firmly by the reins—their weapons pointed at his breast. ‘Make a single attempt to escape, and we’ll riddle your carcase with bullets,’ shouted one of his assailants. ‘Shoot the d—d greaser, at once’t,’ cried a low-browed, villainous looking fellow. ‘Curse the yellar skinned devil, I believe he’s glued to the saddle,’ said the first speaker as he tried in vain to pull Joaquin from his seat, the latter meanwhile urging his horse forward but in vain, so firmly was he held by the man who had seized his horse by the head. The assault had been so unexpected that for a brief instant the young Californian had forgotten Carmencitto, but now a wild piercing shriek recalled her to his mind, and turning round he beheld her dragged from her horse to the earth. His arms were bound, but his feet were at liberty, and he dashed his heavy boots into the face of the men who held his steed. But the same moment a brace of bullets whizzed through the air, and after a few convulsive clutches the young man fell heavily to the earth. Leaving him, where he had fallen, the men rushed to the assistance of the fellow who had dragged the lady from her steed. ‘For God’s sake, gentlemen, don’t kill Joaquin. He has never injured you.’ ‘Don’t fret, honey, ’tisn’t Joe Quin we’re after. ‘Tis your own elegant self,’ said one of the ruffians. ‘So, you d—d stuck-up thing, you wouldn’t dance with me at your outlandish fandango, the other night. Now, my lady, you shall dance to other music;’ and as he spoke he seized her brutally, and inflicted several fierce kisses upon her reluctant lips. Fired by her charms and her resistance, the villain was proceeding to further outrage, when, all her woman’s nature flashing from her indignant eyes, she drew a small thin-bladed stiletto, and sent its bright blade straight to the heart of the ravisher. For a moment, and but for a moment, the villains were appalled at this prompt and terrible retribution. But even the thought of their guilty comrade hurried out of the world in the very act of perpetrating the most heinous offence, could not make them pause in their infernal intentions, for seizing the hapless woman, now become insensible, they bore her into a clump of bushes from which they had sprung upon Joaquin and his bride. Hours after, when Joaquin returned to consciousness, he found himself bound hand and foot, with strips of green hide. His horse and that of Carmencitto both gone.