bothered me; so after some thought I broke the lock with a stone and
investigated the contents, mainly by feel. There were a lot of clothes
and toilet articles and such junk, and a number of undetermined hard
things like round wooden boxes. Finally I withdrew to the shelter of a
_barranca_ where I could light matches. Then I had no difficulty in
identifying a nice compact little hypodermic outfit, which I slipped
into a pocket. I then deposited the bag in a safe place where I could
find it easily.

Leaving my horse I approached the ranch under cover of the willows. Yes,
I remembered this time that I left tracks, but I did not care. My idea
was to get some sort of decisive action before morning. Once through the
willows I crept up close to the walls. They were twelve or fifteen feet
high, absolutely smooth; and with one exception broken only by the long,
narrow loopholes or transoms I have mentioned before. The one exception
was a small wicket gate or door. I remembered the various sorties with
torches after the chirping frogs, and knew that by this opening the
hunting party had emerged. This and the big main gate were the only
entrances to the enclosure.

I retired to the vicinity of the willows and uttered the cry of the
barred owl. After ten seconds I repeated it, and so continued. My only
regret was that I could not chirp convincingly like a frog. I saw a
shadow shift suddenly through one of the transoms, and at once glided to
the wall near the little door. After a moment or so it opened to emit
Old Man Hooper and another bulkier figure which I imagined to be that
of Ramon. Both were armed with shotguns. Suddenly it came to me that I
was lucky not to have been able to chirp convincingly like a frog. They
hunted frogs with torches and in a crowd. Those two carried no light and
they were so intent on making a sneak on the willows and the