[Illustration: Coming down the trail, slowly but with grim determination, was Mr. Buford Yancey, Texas Ranger.] Coming down the trail, slowly but with grim determination, on foot, with rough homemade bandages on him in several places, a rakish reddened one around his head, almost covering one eye, was Mr. Buford Yancey, Texas ranger. In addition to the above-described decorations, he had firmly held in his right hand an old ivory-handled .45; and around his waist, hanging on one side almost to his knee, was a belt in which most of the cartridge loops were empty. His face and lips looked gray, but his eyes were holding the same look that they did when he stepped into the street that day at Wirton; and on his gray lips was the same little frozen smile. Back of him, about ten feet, came another young man, with about the same number of bandages, the same kind of a gun in his hand--and quite the same kind of a look and smile. * * * * * When Elaine rose to her feet from the windfall, Bud stopped and regarded her gravely, a puzzled look taking the place of the cold, bleak one in his eyes. He stood there swaying a little; then he shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, as if to get rid of a vision. Sam Earp had come up when he opened them. As he did, Bud looked at Elaine and announced gravely: “We’re goin’ to chase those jaspers plumb through to the Guatemala border. You go on home, if you’re real.” And he started down the trail. “Bud Yancey,” said Elaine, taking the one hop necessary to get in front of him, “you are not! You are not going another step. Why, you are wounded and everything! Bud--you can’t go and leave me here! I’m afraid! Don’t leave me, Bud.” Sam Earp had stood there, doing more than a little swaying on his own account. “That’s right,” he said solemnly. “It’s your girl, Bud. Can’t leave any woman who’s scared--you stay and I’ll go and get us those _hombres_.” Mr. Earp, having settled the matter, started out; but on making the first step, he slid to the ground and lay there. “Doggone!” said Bud, looking down on him. “Sam’s out--and Bill is out--and Capt’n Coudray is full of lead. Reckon it’s up to me to do the protectin’. Come on.” “Oh, thank God!” Elaine had been standing so that she could see up the trail. As she spoke, Bud tried to turn around. He made it halfway; then as his eye caught the flash of steel and the brown of khaki uniforms, he joined Mr. Sam Earp on the ground at Elaine’s feet. Lieutenant Webb, a sergeant and twelve or fourteen men, arrived a moment later. After one look at the rangers, he snapped out several orders that resulted in improvised slings attached to gun-barrels. All the way down the trail until Elaine’s car came in sight, he did not speak to her. Garcia’s men had turned off the trail, heading south before they reached the car, and it was as she had left it. Finally Elaine eased over beside him.