through the gloom. "I've never met you, Mr. Harvey, but we all know
you by reputation. Just tell me your business and how you happen to be
riding the desert this time of night and then I'll tell you why I
ask."

"I am expecting my son and daughters coming up from Yuma. We were to
meet at Moreno's this evening; but a scouting-party in the mountains
warned us to hide until night, so we're late. Have they reached
Moreno's? We must be close there."

"You're close enough to Moreno's; it's not a hundred yards back there;
but that light across the valley is the warning beacon at Picacho.
They would hardly venture across knowing what that means."

"Why, my God, man!" exclaimed Harvey, "that says the Apaches are out
west of the Santa Maria or the Christobal. Have you seen,--have you
heard anything of them?"

"For the love of God, sir, don't ask me now. Come to the ranch. Major
Plummer's there,--the paymaster. He'll tell you all we know."

A moment more and, with glaring eyes, with agonized, ashen face, the
Arizona merchant stood at the entrance of the ranch, clinging to the
horse-rail for support, listening with gasping breath to Plummer's
faltering recital of the events of the morning.

"Are you sure it was my son,--my Ned?" he moaned.

"I never saw him before, Mr. Harvey; but some of my men were sure, and
old Moreno here--"