Never was a half hour passed in greater anxiety, but even when supper was ready and waiting the horsemen did not appear. “Perhaps after all they were bound for the Slater Ranch,” Virginia said. Disappointed and with a feeling of depression the young people gathered about the table when suddenly they heard a shouting without, and in another moment the front door burst open. CHAPTER XLVII APPROACHING HORSEMEN Virginia leaped forward with a cry of joy and was caught in her brother’s close embrace. Harry followed, but though they all gazed eagerly back of these two, hoping to see another lad coming in from the gathering darkness, none appeared. Hal was closing the door, and so, of course, there was no one to come. “Oh, brother,” Virginia exclaimed, “you didn’t find Tom. Tell me quickly what has happened?” “That I will,” was the reply, “but since Harry and I are almost famished, may I tell the story while we are at supper?” A few moments later, when they were gathered about the table, Uncle Tex standing near, Malcolm related their experiences. “We followed the directions in the message taken from the carrier pigeon, and reached the mountain pass south of Agua Prieta where we expected to find the sheep. Lopez knows several Mexicans living in Agua Prieta; in fact, he has relatives there, and they gladly joined us when we told them what the reward would be if we could regain the lost Merinos and save our friend, Tom. It was nearing nightfall when we ascended a mountain on foot to a point where we could look over into the pass. There, to our great delight, we beheld the lost flock. Two Mexicans, whom Lopez recognized as well known rustlers, were seated by a camp fire close to a jutting boulder near the entrance of the pass. Lopez offered to creep as close as he could to them and report their conversation. This he did while we waited at the outer entrance, our guns drawn, for well we knew that if Lopez made the slightest sound, or in any way betrayed his near presence, he would need our immediate assistance. But luckily the two rustlers were so engrossed with their own grievances that they were not on the outlook for spies. “After a time Lopez crept back and beckoned us to follow him, which we did. “He led us some distance away, where in a cave-like shelter, he told us what he had heard. Our friend Tom, he said, was alive unless he had starved. The sheep were all there and the men were impatiently awaiting the carrier pigeon which was to bring them further orders. “‘But Tom?’ I said. ‘Tell us where he is that we may go at once to his assistance.’ Lopez looked troubled. Then he told us that our friend had been practically buried alive. That is, he had been imprisoned in an adobe hut and without food. The boy Francesco Quintano Mendoza was with him. ‘Tom must have been in that tomb for over a week,’ I said, ‘and if he has been without food all that time of course he is dead; but let us go to him at once.’