"How many Federals are there around here?"

"Just a few: not more than a dozen, I reckon."

The old man grew communicative. He told them of
many important rumors: Obregon was besieging Guada-
lajara, Torres was in complete control of the Potosi re-
gion, Natera ruled over Fresnillo.

"All right," said Demetrio, "you can go where you're
headed for, see, but you be damn careful not to tell any-
one you saw us, because if you do, I'll pump you full of
lead. And I could track you down, even if you tried to
hide in the pit of hell, see?"

"What do you say, boys?" Demetrio asked them as
soon as the old man had disappeared.

"To hell with the mochos! We'll kill every blasted one
of them!" they cried in unison.

Then they set to counting their cartridges and the hand
grenades the Owl had made out of fragments of iron
tubing and metal bed handles.

"Not much to brag about, but we'll soon trade them
for rifles," Anastasio observed.

Anxiously they pressed forward, spurring the thin flanks
of their nags to a gallop. Demetrio's brisk, imperious