"But, why? What is it all about?"
"Merely that my men are anticipating you. They have gone to murder the American. Deputy sheriffs from Santa Fé to-day came here to arrest Pablo and Sebastian. The men suspected and were hidden. Now they have gone to punish Mr. Gordon for sending the officers."
She could not have touched him more nearly. He came to her with burning eyes.
"How do you know? What makes you think so?"
She told him, briefly and simply, giving more detailed reasons.
Without a word, he turned and left her. She could hear him rushing through the hall, traced his progress by the slamming of the door, and presently caught sight of him running toward the corral. He did not hear, or heed, her call for him to wait.
The girl hurried out of the house after him, in time to see him slap a saddle on his bronco, swing to his seat lightly, and gallop in a cloud of dust to the road.
Valencia waited for no more. Quickly running to her room, she slipped on a khaki riding-skirt. Her deft, tapering fingers moved swiftly, so that she was ready, crop in hand, booted and spurred, by the time Juan brought round her horse.
It took but an instant to lift herself to the saddle and send Billy galloping forward.
Already her cousin had disappeared in great clouds of dust over the brow of the hill.