could be found and then rode away again. San Felippe celebrated for
a whole day and two Mexican babies were christened after Senor Dick
Martin, which was honor all around.

Friday, when Manuel went over to spy upon the cow-punchers in their new
camp, he found them so drunk that they could not stand, and before he
crept away at dusk two of them were sleeping like gorged snakes and the
third was firing off his revolver at random, which diversion had not a
little to do with Manuel's departure.

When Manuel crept away he headed straight for a crevice near the wall of
the canyon at the Big Bend and, reaching it, looked all around and then
dropped into it. Not long thereafter another Mexican appeared, this one
from San Felippe, and also disappeared into the crevice. As darkness
fell Manuel reappeared with something under his jacket and a moment
later a light gleamed at the base of a slender sapling which grew on the
edge of the canyon wall and leaned out over the abyss. It was cleverly
placed, for only at one spot on the Mexican side of the distant Rio
Grande could it be seen--the high canyon walls farther down screened it
from any one who might be riding on the north bank of the river. In a
moment there came an answering twinkle and Manuel, covering the lantern
with a blanket, was swallowed up in the darkness of the crevice.

Without a trace of emotion, Dick Martin, from his place of concealment,
caught the answering gleam, and he watched Manuel disappear. "Cassidy
was right in every point; Lewis or Sayre couldn't 'a' done this
better. I hope he won't be late," he muttered, and settled himself more
comfortably to wait for the cue for action, smiling as the moon poked
its rim over the low hills to his right. "This means promotion for me,
or I've very much mistaken," he chuckled.