"That your bunch down there?" called Del Pinzo to Snake, and he waved his uninjured hand toward the camp amid the rocks.
"You said something, Del Pinzo," grimly answered the cowboy. "What you all up to now? Be careful—I have you covered!" he warned. "And if your men want to bask in the sweet sunshine of your presence from now on, tell 'em to chuck down their guns. Also, up with your hands!"
There was a stinging menace in the tones that Del Pinzo knew well enough to obey. His hands, one dripping blood, were raised over his head, and he called something in Spanish to his followers, as yet unseen by the boy ranchers and their friends.
Instantly the scattered firing on the part of the outlaws ceased, and, catching this air of silence, Yellin' Kid gave an order that silenced his guns.
"Now, what's the game?" demanded Snake, holding the whip hand as it were. "What do you mean by firing on us?"
"I did not know it was you," declared the half breed. "We set out to look for the Yaquis—"
"The Yaquis?" interrupted Snake.
"Sure! They have risen, it is said, and I and my men are on their trail!"
This was news indeed—another surprise, in fact. That Del Pinzo was speaking the truth could scarcely be believed. In the first place this was almost an unknown accomplishment with him, and in the second place the Yaquis were of his own kind—reckless outlaws who would stop at nothing to get booty, either in cattle or money. It was more likely that Del Pinzo and his gang were seeking an opportunity to join forces with the band of up-rising Yaquis.
"Oh, you're after the Yaquis; are you!" asked Snake.