"Yes. But we need more pasture."

"I know your La Feria ranch, too. I was with General Castro when
we had that fight near there."

"You were a Maderista?"

"Yes'm. Machine-gun man. That's a fine country over there. Seems
like God Almighty got mixed and put the Mexicans on the wrong side
of the Rio Grande. But I reckon you haven't seen much of La Feria
since the last revolution broke out."

"No. We have tried to remain neutral, but--" Again she hesitated.
"Mr. Austin has enemies. Fortunately both sides have spared La
Feria."

Law shrugged his broad shoulders. "Oh, well, the revolution isn't
over! A ranch in Mexico is my idea of a bad investment." He rose
and, taking his blanket, sought a favorable spot upon which to
spread it. Then he helped Mrs. Austin to her feet--her muscles had
stiffened until she could barely stand--after which he fetched his
saddle for a pillow. He made no apologies for his meager
hospitality, nor did his guest expect any.

When he had staked out his horse for the night he returned to find
the woman rolled snugly in her covering, as in a cocoon. The dying
embers flickered into flame and lit her hair redly. She had laid
off her felt Stetson, and one loosened braid lay over her hard
pillow. Thinking her asleep, Law stood motionless, making no