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As he approached them Rozales looked up and smiled. Then, rising, extended his

hand.

"Senor Captain," he said, "we welcome you. I am Captain Rozales." He hesitated

waiting for Billy to give his name.

"My monacker's Byrne," said Billy. "Pleased to meet you, Cap."

"Ah, Captain Byrne," and Rozales proceeded to introduce the newcomer to his

fellow-officers.

Several, like Rozales, were educated men who had been officers in the army

under former regimes, but had turned bandit as the safer alternative to suffering

immediate death at the hands of the faction then in power. The others, for the

most part, were pure-blooded Indians whose adult lives had been spent in

outlawry and brigandage. All were small of stature beside the giant, Byrne.

Rozales and two others spoke English. With those Billy conversed. He tried to

learn from them the name of the officer who was to command the escort that was

to accompany Bridge and Miguel into the valley on the morrow; but Rozales and

the others assured him that they did not know.

When he had asked the question Billy had been looking straight at Rozales, and

he had seen the man's pupils contract and noticed the slight backward movement

of the body which also denotes determination. Billy knew, therefore, that Rozales

was lying. He did know who was to command the escort, and there was

something sinister in that knowledge or the fellow would not have denied it.

The American began to consider plans for saving his friend from the fate which

Pesita had outlined for him. Rozales, too, was thinking rapidly. He was no fool.

Why had the stranger desired to know who was to command the escort? He knew

none of the officers personally. What difference then, did it make to him who rode

out on the morrow with his friend? Ah, but Miguel knew that it would make a

difference. Miguel had spoken to the new captain, and aroused his suspicions.

Rozales excused himself and rose. A moment later he was in conversation with

Pesita, unburdening himself of his suspicions, and outlining a plan.

Do not send me in charge of the escort," he advised. "Send Captain Byrne

himself."

Pesita pooh-poohed the idea.

"But wait," urged Rozales. "Let the stranger ride in command, with a half-dozen

picked men who will see that nothing goes wrong. An hour before dawn I will

send two men--they will be our best shots--on ahead. They will stop at a place we

207

The Mucker