At　the　moment　he　was　alone　on　the　promontory。　　The　night　was　far　spent。　　A　ghastly　moon　haunted　the　black　volcanic　spurs。　　The　winds　blew　silently。　　Was　he　alone？　　No。　he　did　not　seem　to　be　alone。　The　Yaqui　was　there。　　Suddenly　a　strange；　cold　sensation　crept　over　Gale。　　It　was　new。　　He　felt　a　presence。　　Turning；　he　expected　to　see　the　Indian；　but　instead；　a　slight　shadow；　pale；　almost　white；　stood　there；　not　close　nor　yet　distant。　　It　seemed　to　brighten。　Then　he　saw　a　woman　who　resembled　a　girl　he　had　seemed　to　know　long　ago。　　She　was　white…faced；　golden…haired；　and　her　lips　were　sweet；　and　her　eyes　were　turning　black。　　Nell！　　He　had　forgotten　her。　Over　him　flooded　a　torrent　of　memory。　　There　was　tragic　woe　in　this　sweet　face。　　Nell　was　holding　out　her　armsshe　was　crying　aloud　to　him　across　the　sand　and　the　cactus　and　the　lava。　　She　was　in　trouble；　and　he　had　been　forgetting。
  That　night　he　climbed　the　lava　to　the　topmost　cone；　and　never　slipped　on　a　ragged　crust　nor　touched　a　choya　thorn。　　A　voice　called　to　him。　　He　saw　Nell's　eyes　in　the　stars；　in　the　velvet　blue　of　sky；　in　the　blackness　of　the　engulfing　shadows。　She　was　with　him；　a　slender　shape；　a　spirit；　keeping　step　with　him；　and　memory　was　strong；　sweet；　beating；　beautiful。　Far　down　in　the　west；　faintly　golden　with　light　of　the　sinking　moon；　he　saw　a　cloud　that　resembled　her　face。　　A　cloud　on　the　desert　horizon！　He　gazed　and　gazed。　　Was　that　a　spirit　face　like　the　one　by　his　side？　　Nohe　did　not　dream。
  In　the　hot；　sultry　morning　Yaqui　appeared　at　camp；　after　long　hours　of　absence；　and　he　pointed　with　a　long；　dark　arm　toward　the　west。　A　bank　of　clouds　was　rising　above　the　mountain　barrier。
  〃Rain！〃　he　cried；　and　his　sonorous　voice　rolled　down　the　arroyo。
  Those　who　heard　him　were　as　shipwrecked　mariners　at　sight　of　a　distant　sail。
  Dick　Gale；　silent；　grateful　to　the　depths　of　his　soul；　stood　with　arm　over　Blanco　Sol　and　watched　the　transforming　west；　where　clouds　of　wonderous　size　and　hue　piled　over　one　another；　rushing；　darkening；　spreading；　sweeping　upward　toward　that　white　and　glowing　sun。
  When　they　reached　the　zenish　and　swept　round　to　blot　out　the　blazing　orb；　the　earth　took　on　a　dark；　lowering　aspect。　　The　red　of　sand　and　lava　changed　to　steely　gray。　　Vast　shadows；　like　ripples　on　water；　sheeted　in　from　the　gulf　with　a　low；　strange　moan。　　Yet　the　silence　was　like　death。　　The　desert　was　awaiting　a　strange　and　hated　visitationstorm！　　If　all　the　endless　torrid　days；　the　endless　mystic　nights　had　seemed　unreal　to　Gale；　what；　then；　seemed　this　stupendous　spectacle？
  〃Oh！　　I　felt　a　drop　of　rain　on　my　face！〃　cried　Mercedes；　and　whispering　the　name　of　a　saint；　she　kissed　her　husband。
  The　white…haired　Ladd；　gaunt；　old；　bent；　looked　up　at　the　maelstrom　of　clouds；　and　he　said；　softly；　〃Shore　we'll　get　in　the　hosses；　an'　pack　light；　an'　hit　the　trail；　an'　make　night　marches！〃
  Then　up　out　of　the　gulf　of　the　west　swept　a　bellowing　wind　and　a　black　pall　and　terrible　flashes　of　lightning　and　thunder　like　the　end　of　the　worldfury；　blackness；　chaos；　the　desert　storm。
  XVII
  The　Whistle　Of　A　Horse
  At　the　ranch…house　at　Forlorn　River　Belding　stood　alone　in　his　darkened　room。　　It　was　quiet　there　and　quiet　outside；　the　sickening　midsummer　heat；　like　a　hot　heavy　blanket；　lay　upon　the　house。
  He　took　up　the　gun　belt　from　his　table　and　with　slow　hands　buckled　it　around　his　waist。　　He　seemed　to　feel　something　familiar　and　comfortable　and　inspiring　in　the　weight　of　the　big　gun　against　his　hip。　　He　faced　the　door　as　if　to　go　out；　but　hesitated；　and　then　began　a　slow；　plodding　walk　up　and　down　the　length　of　the　room。　　Presently　he　halted　at　the　table；　and　with　reluctant　hands　he　unbuckled　the　gun　belt　and　laid　it　down。
  The　action　did　not　have　an　air　of　finality；　and　Belding　knew　it。　He　had　seen　border　life　in　Texas　in　the　early　days；　he　had　been　a　sheriff　when　the　law　in　the　West　depended　on　a　quickness　of　wrist；　he　had　seen　many　a　man　lay　down　his　gun　for　good　and　all。　His　own　action　was　not　final。　　Of　late　he　had　done　the　same　thing　many　times　and　this　last　time　it　seemed　a　little　harder　to　do；　a　little　more　indicative　of　vacillation。　　There　were　reasons　why　Belding's　gun　held　for　him　a　gloomy　fascination。
  The　Chases；　those　grasping　and　conscienceless　agents　of　a　new　force　in　the　development　of　the　West；　were　bent　upon　Belding's　ruin；　and　so　far　as　his　fortunes　at　Forlorn　River　were　concerned；　had　almost　accomplished　it。　　One　by　one　he　lost　points　for　which　he　contended　with　them。　　He　carried　into　the　Tucson　courts　the　matter　of　the　staked　claims；　and　mining　claims；　and　water　claims；　and　he　lost　all。　　Following　that　he　lost　his　government　position　as　inspector　of　immigration；　and　this　fact；　because　of　what　he　considered　its　injustice；　had　been　a　hard　blow。　　He　had　been　made　to　suffer　a　humiliation　equally　as　great。　　It　came　about　that　he　actually　had　to　pay　the　Chases　for　water　to　irrigate　his　alfalfa　fields。　　The　never…failing　spring　upon　his　land　answered　for　the　needs　of　household　and　horses；　but　no　more。
  These　matters　were　unfortunate　for　Belding；　but　not　by　any　means　wholly　accountable　for　his　worry　and　unhappiness　and　brooding　hate。　He　believed　Dick　Gale　and　the　rest　of　the　party　taken　into　the　desert　by　the　Yaqui　had　been　killed　or　lost。　　Two　months　before　a　string　of　Mexican　horses；　riderless；　saddled；　starved　for　grass　and　wild　for　water；　had　come　in　to　Forlorn　River。　　They　were　a　part　of　the　horses　belonging　to　Rojas　and　his　band。　　Their　arrival　complicated　the　mystery　and　strengthened　convictions　of　the　loss　of　both　pursuers　and　pursued。　　Belding　was　wont　to　say　that　he　had　worried　himself　gray　over　the　fate　of　his　rangers。
  Belding's　unhappiness　could　hardly　be　laid　to　material　loss。　　He　had　been　rich　and　was　now　poor；　but　change　of　fortune　such　as　that　could　not　have　made　him　unhappy。　　Something　more　somber　and　mysterious　and　sad　than　the　loss　of　Dick　Gale　and　their　friends　had　come　into　the　lives　of　his　wife　and　Nell。　　He　dated　the　time　of　this　change　back　to　a　certain　day　when　Mrs。　Belding　recognized　in　the　elder　Chase　an　old　schoolmate　and　a　rejected　suitor。　　It　took　time　for　slow…thinking　Belding　to　discover　anything　wrong　in　his　household；　especially　as　the　fact　of　the　Gales　lingering　there　made　Mrs。　Belding　and　Nell；　for　the　most　part；　hide　their　read　and　deeper　feelings。　　Gradually；　however；　Belding　had　forced　on　him　the　fact　of　some　secret　cause　for　grief　other　than　Gale's　loss。　He　was　sure　of　it　when　his　wife　signified　her　desire　to　make　a　visit　to　her　old　home　back　in　Peoria。　　She　did　not　give　many　reasons；　but　she　did　show　him　a　letter　that　had　found　its　way　from　old　friends。　　This　letter　contained　news　that　may　or　may　not　have　been　authentic；　but　it　was　enough；　Belding　thought；　to　interest　his　wife。　　An　old　prospector　had　returned　to　Peoria；　and　he　had　told　relatives　of　meeting　Robert　Burton　at　the　Sonoyta　Oasis　fifteen　years　before；　and　that　Burton　had　gone　into　the　desert　never　to　return。　　To　Belding　this　was　no　surprise；　for　he　had　heard　that　before　his　marriage。　　There　appeared　to　have　been　no　doubts　as　to　the　death　of　his　wife's　first　husband。　　The　singular　thing　was　that　both　Nell's　father　and　grandfather　had　been　lost　somewhere　in　the　Sonora　Desert。
  Belding　did　not　oppose　his　wife's　desire　to　visit　her　old　home。　He　thought　it　would　be　a　wholesome　trip　for　her；　and　did　all　in　his　power　to　persuade　Nell　to　accompany　her。　　But　Nell　would　not　go。
  It　was　after　Mrs。　Belding's　departure　that　Belding　discovered　in　Nell　a　condition　of　mind　that　amazed　and　distressed　him。　　She　had　suddenly　become　strangely　wretched；　so　that　she　could　not　conceal　it　from　even　the　Gales；　who；　of　all　people；　Belding　imagined；　were　the　ones　to　make　Nell　proud。　　She　would　tell　him　nothing。　　But　after　a　while；　when　he　had　thought　it　out；　he　dated　this　further　and　more　deplorable　change　in　Nell　back　to　a　day　on　which　he　had　met　Nell　with　Radford　Chase。　　This　indefatigable　wooer　had　not　in　the　least　abandoned　his　suit。　　Something　about　the　fellow　made　Belding　grind　his　teeth。　　But　Nell　grew　not　only　solicitously；　but　now　strangely；　entreatingly　earnest　in　her　importunities　to　Belding　not　ot　insult　or　lay　a　hand　on　Chase。　　This　had　bound　Belding　so　far；　it　had　made　him　think　and　watch。　　He　had　never　been　a　man　to　interfere　with　his　women　folk。　　They　could　do　as　they　liked；　and　usually　that　pleased　him。　　But　a　slow　surprise　gathered　and　grew　upon　him　when　he　saw　that　Nell；　apparently；　was　accepting　young　Chase's　attentions。　　At　least；　she　no　longer　hid　from　him。　　Belding　could　not　account　for　this；　because　he　was　sure　Nell　cordially　despised　the　fellow。　　And　toward　the　end　he　divined；　if　he　did　not　actually　know；　that　these　Chases　possessed　some　strange　power　over　Nell；　and　were　using　it。　That　stirred　a　hate　in　Beldinga　hate　he　had　felt　at　the　very　first　and　had　manfully　striven　against；　and　which　now　gave　him　over　to　dark　brooding　thoughts。
  Midsummer　passed；　and　the　storms　came　late。　　But　when　they　arrived　they　made　up　for　tardiness。　　Belding　did　not　remember　so　terrible　a　storm　of　wind　and　rain　as　that　which　broke　the　summer's　drought。
  In　a　few　days；　it　seemed；　Altar　Valley　was　a　bright　and　green　expanse；　where　dust　clouds　did　not　ri