"I know where it is!" interrupted Blake. He and Joe, with a
training that had made it necessary for them to "size up," and
know intimately their surroundings, for use in taking moving
pictures, had sensed the location of a bubbling spring of pure
water along the road on their first visit to it. "It's right over
here; I'll get some," Blake went on.

"If you will be so kind," spoke the Spaniard, and he extended a
collapsible drinking cup.

Blake lost little time in filling it, and soon after drinking Mr.
Alcando appeared much better.

"I am sorry to give all this trouble," the Spaniard went on, "but
I have seemed to meet with considerable number of shocks to-day.
First there was the runaway, which I certainly did not expect, and
then came the sudden stop--a stop most fortunate for us, I take
it," and he glanced, not without a shudder, in the direction of
the gulch where the dead horse lay.

"And then you pulled us back from the brink--the brink of death,"
he went on, and his voice had in it a tone of awe, as well as
thankfulness. "I can not thank you now--I shall not try," he went
on. "But some time, I hope to prove--

"Oh, what am I saying!" he broke in upon himself. "I never
dreamed of this. It is incomprehensible. That I should meet you
so, you whom I--"