"Who are you, and where from?"

"George Harvey and party from Tucson, looking for Moreno's. Who are
you?"

"United States cavalry on escort duty. How many in your party?"

"Only two here. We were delayed by Apache signs in the Santa Maria.
The rest are some miles behind with relay mules. Are we near the
ranch? What's that light out to the west?"

"Never mind that now. Dismount and come up alone, Mr. Harvey; I must
recognize you first."

Feeny wanted to gain time. His brain was whirling. Here was partial
confirmation of the story told by the alleged Ned Harvey in the
morning. Here was the father coming with guard and relay mules to meet
his children just as their morning visitor declared he was expected to
do. Was it possible after all that the tale was true,--that the
children were there at the Gila, making wide _détour_ around Ceralvo's
and taking the northward route around that ill-favored ranch? If so,
what awful tidings had he to break! Stout soldier that he was, Feeny
felt that he was trembling from head to foot. Up through the gloom
strode a tall figure, fearless and confident.

"There's no Irishman in all the Morales gang," laughed the coming man,
"and I know a cavalryman's challenge when I hear it, and so honor it
at once. Where are you, sentry?"

"Here; this way," answered Feeny, standing erect and peering sharply