But the idea faded from Waring's mind as he saw the boy fling past desperately. Waring swung to the saddle and rode out. Ramon's horse plunged to a stop, and stood trembling. The boy all but fell as he dismounted. Stumbling toward Waring, he held out both hands.
"Señor, the rurales!" he gasped.
"How far behind?"
"The railroad! They are ahead! They have shipped their horses to
Magdalena, to Nogales!"
"How do you know that?"
"Pedro Salazar is dead. You were gone. They say it was you."
"So they shipped their horses ahead to cut me off, eh? You're a good boy, Ramon, but I don't know what in hell to do with you. Your cayuse is played out. You made a good ride."
"Si, señor. I have not stopped once."
"You look it. You can't go back now. They would shoot you."
"I will ride with the señor."