“Mount and ride, boys!” the big cowman was yelling. He himself leaped up on the white mustang and the boys followed hard after, riding along the banks of the red pond. A flock of teal rose in a great flutter of wings and there were yells and imprecations behind them from out in the creosote bushes, but they waited not to hear them. Big John was guffawing so that he could hardly keep his saddle. “Sing, redskins!--Yell, ye pisen horned toads! Ain’t it a grand an’ glorious feelin’ to be set afoot though!” he shouted back at them. “Gosh durn it, boys, I ain’t hed so much fun since we made Apache Sam eat a rattlesnake! Niltci an’ I, we cooked up thet hoss-thievin’ stunt whilst ridin’ out hyar. Blaze, he jest nat’rally helped!” As for Niltci, he was now making a wide circle around the other side of the pond, leaving behind him the screaming and fist-shaking Vasquez, who stood in the sage searching his soul for Spanish expletives that would relieve his feelings! Niltci rode in to join them shortly after, with all the Papago ponies following him and a broad grin on his face. “_Mucho bueno!_” he grunted. “What do with pony?” “Oh, we’ll pilgrim along a while, an’ then drop ’em after dark somewhar near the Quijotoas,” laughed Big John. “Fine work, Injun! I reckon we’re shut of that outfit for a piece, eh, boys?” “Not to be a crape-hanger, I’d say that we won’t see another Mexican unless it’s a bunch of guerrillas down near Pinacate,” said Sid. “Shore! More fun!” grinned Big John. “Them rebel greasers has Mausers--but they cayn’t hit nawthin’ with them. Hope that Vasquez person aims to round ’em up an’ bring ’em along. ’Twell be some fine li’l party, I’m settin’ hyar to tell ye.” They rode on and dropped the Papago ponies shortly before pushing through the pass in the Quijotoas to Poso Blanco. There they encountered a new village of Papagoes and the inhabitants lined up to watch them go by. Big John, nothing loath, bought oats from them, as friendly as friendly! They, of course, had heard nothing of the row over at Red Tank. Some of them even did their best to sell the party baskets! “Shore, but a runner from Red Tank will git in hyar late to-night, fellers,” quoth Big John, as they rode out on the desert once more. “This lot of Injuns’ll be some surprised, I’m thinkin’! We’ll water at Poso Blanco an’ pull our freight for ole Montezuma Haid early to-morrow morning, or the hull kadoodle will be on our heels.” After dark a dry camp was made, in a patch of mesquite and palo verde, a long distance out from Poso Blanco. It had been a hard day of riding! Fifty miles, in all, had they covered, and now the country was changing from gray to red, and lava began to show up, black and glowering under the horses’ hoofs.