Mrs. Vining came first, the prospector holding fast to her arm. His eyes were steady and he appeared perfectly rational, but uneasy and nervous, and he still shambled in his walk. Just behind them was the specialist, brisk and confident. He smiled on us triumphantly. Before Mrs. Vining got into the vehicle, Mrs. Horne surged down the steps impulsively and threw her arms about her neck and kissed her. "Judy, I'm so--you've made me feel so--you're such a good--" "Hush," whispered the woman of the yellow hair, and all the gay affectation was gone from her. "Let us be thankful he's all right. If he'll only stay--good-by, dear--we can only hope and pray God." CHAPTER XXIX LAFE HELPS A DESERTER After this experience, Johnson settled to hard work for Horne, and hard work on a range means unremitting toil. When everything moved smoothly, he would act as Horne's trail boss. At this time the cowman was buying large herds in Mexico, principally yearling steers and cows and calves. He would throw these cattle across the line and pasture them until a rising market offered the profits he had set his mind on. Success had so puffed up Horne that nothing less than sixty per cent would tempt his investment. At the setting-in of winter again, Lafe took his outfit far down below Arizpe and purchased a herd of nine hundred head. Then the American authorities declared a quarantine and the cattle could not be brought up until it was lifted. Johnson started back. His party camped on the San Pedro, and just before they crawled under the blankets, they were joined by a native outfit. Of course the Mexicans had no beef or anything to eat. The boss gave them a quarter from the yearling they had killed that evening. Five of them began to shoot dice on a saddle blanket in a decent, gentlemanly manner--two of the cowboys, the Chinese cook, a Yaqui vaquero and a Mexican horse thief from the Cuitaca valley. The boss smoked and watched the game. Another man lay under the wagon with his collar bone broken and at times his plaints became a nuisance. "Come a eight," the Celestial invoked. "Heap bum thlow. Me ketchum soon. You wait." Presently they became aware that somebody was ministering to their injured companion. His moans ceased. "Feel any better, now?" a voice asked. There followed murmurings and a movement as if the newcomer were easing the sufferer's position. "Well," he said, "if you can swear that way, you shouldn't ought to be dying. Keep it up. You're doing fine." A tall man walked into the group around the lantern. He surveyed each face in turn. The Yaqui was blowing on the dice to bring luck and was fearfully disgusted at the interruption. Addressing himself to Johnson, as though somebody had told him that he was the leader, the stranger said: "Hello! Got anything to eat?" "Sure," Lafe answered readily. "Here, you, Charlie--go get this gentleman some cold beef and bread. Drag it now; ketchum quick. Fly at it, pardner."