pped　to　sleep；　and　slept　soundly　during　the　first　half　of　the　night；　and　after　that　he　seemed　always　to　be　partially　awake；　aware　of　increasing　cold　and　damp。　The　dark　mantle　turned　gray；　and　then　daylight　came　quickly。　　The　morning　was　clear　and　nipping　cold。　　He　threw　off　the　wet　blanket　and　got　up　cramped　and　half　frozen。　　A　little　brisk　action　was　all　that　was　necessary　to　warm　his　blood　and　loosen　his　muscles；　and　then　he　was　fresh；　tingling；　eager。　　The　sun　rose　in　a　golden　blaze；　and　the　descending　valley　took　on　wondrous　changing　hues。　　Then　he　fetched　up　Blanco　Sol；　saddled　him；　and　tied　him　to　the　thickest　clump　of　mesquite。
  〃Sol；　we'll　have　a　drink　pretty　soon；〃　he　said；　patting　the　splendid　neck。
  Gale　meant　it。　　He　would　not　eat　till　he　had　watered　his　horse。　Sol　had　gone　nearly　forty…eight　hours　without　a　sufficient　drink；　and　that　was　long　enough；　even　for　a　desert…bred　beast。　　No　three　raiders　could　keep　Gale　away　from　that　well。　　Taking　his　rifle　in　hand；　he　faced　up　the　arroyo。　　Rabbits　were　frisking　in　the　short　willows；　and　some　were　so　tame　he　could　have　kicked　them。　　Gale　walked　swiftly　for　a　goodly　part　of　the　distance；　and　then；　when　he　saw　blue　smoke　curling　up　above　the　trees；　he　proceeded　slowly；　with　alert　eye　and　ear。　　From　the　lay　of　the　land　and　position　of　trees　seen　by　daylight；　he　found　an　easier　and　safer　course　that　the　one　he　had　taken　in　the　dark。　　And　by　careful　work　he　was　enabled　to　get　closer　to　the　well；　and　somewhat　above　it。
  The　Mexicans　were　leisurely　cooking　their　morning　meal。　　They　had　two　fires；　one　for　warmth；　the　other　to　cook　over。　　Gale　had　an　idea　these　raiders　were　familiar　to　him。　　It　seemed　all　these　border　hawks　resembled　one　anotherbeing　mostly　small　of　build；　wiry；　angular；　swarthy…faced；　and　black…haired；　and　they　wore　the　oddly　styled　Mexican　clothes　and　sombreros。　　A　slow　wrath　stirred　in　Gale　as　he　watched　the　trio。　　They　showed　not　the　slightest　indication　of　breaking　camp。　　One　fellow；　evidently　the　leader；　packed　a　gun　at　his　hip；　the　only　weapon　in　sight。　　Gale　noted　this　with　speculative　eyes。　　The　raiders　had　slept　inside　the　little　adobe　house；　and　had　not　yet　brought　out　the　carbines。　Next　Gale　swept　his　gaze　to　the　corral；　in　which　he　saw　more　than　a　dozen　horses；　some　of　them　fine　animals。　　They　were　stamping　and　whistling；　fighting　one　another；　and　pawing　the　dirt。　　This　was　entirely　natural　behavior　for　desert　horses　penned　in　when　they　wanted　to　get　at　water　and　grass。
  But　suddenly　one　of　the　blacks；　a　big；　shaggy　fellow；　shot　up　his　ears　and　pointed　his　nose　over　the　top　of　the　fence。　　He　whistled。　Other　horses　looked　in　the　same　direction；　and　their　ears　went　up；　and　they；　too；　whistled。　　Gale　knew　that　other　horses　or　men；　very　likely　both；　were　approaching。　　But　the　Mexicans　did　not　hear　the　alarm；　or　show　any　interest　if　they　did。　　These　mescal…drinking　raiders　were　not　scouts。　　It　was　notorious　how　easily　they　could　be　surprised　or　ambushed。　　Mostly　they　were　ignorant；　thick…skulled　peons。　　They　were　wonderful　horsemen；　and　could　go　long　without　food　or　water；　but　they　had　not　other　accomplishments　or　attributes　calculated　to　help　them　in　desert　warfare。　　They　had　poor　sight；　poor　hearing；　poor　judgment；　and　when　excited　they　resembled　crazed　ants　running　wild。
  Gale　saw　two　Indians　on　burros　come　riding　up　the　other　side　of　the　knoll　upon　which　the　adobe　house　stood；　and　apparently　they　were　not　aware　of　the　presence　of　the　Mexicans；　for　they　came　on　up　the　path。　　One　Indian　was　a　Papago。　　The　other；　striking　in　appearance　for　other　reasons　than　that　he　seemed　to　be　about　to　fall　from　the　burro；　Gale　took　to　be　a　Yaqui。　　These　travelers　had　absolutely　nothing　for　an　outfit　except　a　blanket　and　a　half…empty　bag。　　They　came　over　the　knoll　and　down　the　path　toward　the　well；　turned　a　corner　of　the　house；　and　completely　surprised　the　raiders。
  Gale　heard　a　short；　shrill　cry；　strangely　high　and　wild；　and　this　came　from　one　of　the　Indians。　　It　was　answered　by　hoarse　shouts。　Then　the　leader　of　the　trio；　the　Mexican　who　packed　a　gun；　pulled　it　and　fired　point…blank。　　He　missed　onceand　again。　　At　the　third　shot　the　Papago　shrieked　and　tumbled　off　his　burro　to　fall　in　a　heap。　　The　other　Indian　swayed；　as　if　the　taking　away　of　the　support　lent　by　his　comrade　had　brought　collapse；　and　with　the　fourth　shot　he；　too；　slipped　to　the　ground。
  The　reports　had　frightened　the　horses　in　the　corral；　and　the　vicious　black；　crowding　the　rickety　bars；　broke　them　down。　　He　came　plunging　out。　　Two　of　the　Mexicans　ran　for　him；　catching　him　by　nose　and　mane；　and　the　third　ran　to　block　the　gateway。
  Then；　with　a　splendid　vaulting　mount；　the　Mexican　with　the　gun　leaped　to　the　back　of　the　horse。　　He　yelled　and　waved　his　gun；　and　urged　the　black　forward。　　The　manner　of　all　three　was　savagely　jocose。　　They　were　having　sport。　　The　two　on　the　ground　began　to　dance　and　jabber。　　The　mounted　leader　shot　again；　and　then　stuck　like　a　leech　upon　the　bare　back　of　the　rearing　black。　　It　was　a　vain　show　of　horsemanship。　　Then　this　Mexican；　by　some　strange　grip；　brought　the　horse　down；　plunging　almost　upon　the　body　of　the　Indian　that　had　fallen　last。
  Gale　stood　aghast　with　his　rifle　clutched　tight。　　He　could　not　divine　the　intention　of　the　raider；　but　suspected　something　brutal。　The　horse　answered　to　that　cruel；　guiding　hand；　yet　he　swerved　and　bucked。　He　reared　aloft；　pawing　the　air；　wildly　snorting；　then　he　plunged　down　upon　the　prostrate　Indian。　　Even　in　the　act　the　intelligent　animal　tried　to　keep　from　striking　the　body　with　his　hoofs。　　But　that　was　not　possible。　A　yell；　hideous　in　its　passion；　signaled　this　feat　of　horsemanship。
  The　Mexican　made　no　move　to　trample　the　body　of　the　Papago。　He　turned　the　black　to　ride　again　over　the　other　Indian。　　That　brought　into　Gale's　mind　what　he　had　heard　of　a　Mexican's　hate　for　a　Yaqui。　　It　recalled　the　barbarism　of　these　savage　peons；　and　the　war　of　extermination　being　waged　upon　the　Yaquis。
  Suddenly　Gale　was　horrified　to　see　the　Yaqui　writhe　and　raise　a　feeble　hand。　　The　action　brought　renewed　and　more　savage　cries　from　the　Mexicans。　　The　horse　snorted　in　terror。
  Gale　could　bear　no　more。　　He　took　a　quick　shot　at　the　rider。　　He　missed　the　moving　figure；　but　hit　the　horse。　　There　was　a　bound；　a　horrid　scream；　a　mighty　plunge；　then　the　horse　went　down；　giving　the　Mexican　a　stunning　fall。　　Both　beast　and　man　lay　still。
  Gale　rushed　from　his　cover　to　intercept　the　other　raiders　before　they　could　reach　the　house　and　their　weapons。　　One　fellow　yelled　and　ran　wildly　in　the　opposite　direction；　the　other　stood　stricken　in　his　tracks。　　Gale　ran　in　close　and　picked　up　the　gun　that　had　dropped　from　the　raider　leader's　hand。　　This　fellow　had　begun　to　stir；　to　come　out　of　his　stunned　condition。　　Then　the　frightened　horses　burst　the　corral　bars；　and　in　a　thundering；　dust…mantled　stream　fled　up　the　arroyo。
  The　fallen　raider　sat　up；　mumbling　to　his　saints　in　one　breath；　cursing　in　his　next。　　The　other　Mexican　kept　his　stand；　intimidated　by　the　threatening　rifle。
  〃Go；　Greasers！　　Run！〃　yelled　Gale。　　Then　he　yelled　it　in　Spanish。　At　the　point　of　his　rifle　he　drove　the　two　raiders　out　of　the　camp。　His　next　move　was　to　run　into　the　house　and　fetch　out　the　carbines。　With　a　heavy　stone　he　dismantled　each　weapon。　　That　done；　he　set　out　on　a　run　for　his　horse。　　He　took　the　shortest　cut　down　the　arroyo；　with　no　concern　as　to　whether　or　not　he　would　encounter　the　raiders。　Probably　such　a　meeting　would　be　all　the　worse　for　them；　and　they　knew　it。　　Blanco　Sol　heard　him　coming　and　whistled　a　welcome；　and　when　Gale　ran　up　the　horse　was　snorting　war。　　Mounting；　Gale　rode　rapidly　back　to　the　scene　of　the　action；　and　his　first　thought；　when　he　arrived　at　the　well；　was　to　give　Sol　a　drink　and　to　fill　his　canteens。
  Then　Gale　led　his　horse　up　out　of　the　waterhole；　and　decided　before　remounting　to　have　a　look　at　the　Indians。　　The　Papago　had　been　shot　through　the　heart；　but　the　Yaqui　was　still　alive。　Moreover；　he　was　conscious　and　staring　up　at　Gale　with　great；　strange；　somber　eyes；　black　as　volcanic　slag。
  〃Gringo　goodno　kill；〃　he　said；　in　husky　whisper。
  His　speech　was　not　affirmative　so　much　as　questioning。
  〃Yaqui；　you're　done　for；〃　said　Gale；　and　his　words　were　positive。　He　was　simply　speaking　aloud　his　mind。
  〃Yaquino　hurtmuch；〃　replied　the　Indian；　and　then　he　spoke　a　strange　wordrepeated　it　again　and　again。
  An　instinct　of　Gale's；　or　perhaps　some　suggestion　in　the　husky；　thick　whisper　or　dark　face；　told　Gale　to　reach　for　his　canteen。　He　lifted　the　Indian　and　gave　him　a　drink；　and　if　ever　in　all　his　life　he　saw　gratitude　in　human　eyes　he　saw　it　then。　　Then　he　examined　the　injured　Yaqui；　not　forgetting　for　an　instant　to　send　wary；　fugitive　glances　on　all　sides。　　Gale　was　not　surprised。　　The　Indian　had　three　woundsa　bullet　hole　in　his　shoulder；　a　crushed　arm；　and　a　badly　lacerated　leg。　　What　had　been　the　matter　with　him　before　being　set　upon　by　the　raider　Gale　could　not　be　certain。
  The　ranger　thought　rapidly。　　This　Yaqui　would　live　unless　left　there　to　die　or　be　murdered　by　the　Mexicans　when　they　found　courage　to　sneak　back　to　the　well。　　It　never　occurred　to　Gale　to　abandon　the　poor　fellow。　　That　was　where　his　old　training；　the　higher　orde