the cove."

Just then the party halted at the confines of a four strand barbed wire fence. This was the first indication that they were entering the great ranch property that formerly belonged to the Senor Sebastian, the elderly man the Captain had made captive, and which was now the property of his only son.

"Now, lads," said the leader of the expedition, "Here's a chance to make yourself small. This yere barb is like a devil fish if it once gits a holt of your panties—it won't let go."

"That's so, Captain," said the mate, a generally silent and saturnine man.

"I reckon you know, mate," said the Captain. "The last time we was through these parts, and that some considerable years ago, this same fence got a holt of yer pants and wouldn't let go. I never heard you talk so much and so earnestly in my life before. You want to be more keerful this time."

The mate simply grunted by way of reply and, lying close to the ground, he very gingerly and carefully worked his way under the wire and thus escaped his mentioned former unpleasant detention. He then held the lower wire up as high as he could until his chief had wiggled under.

Pete was the only one of the party who was seriously detained, for Jack Cales had slid under as slick as an eel. But Pete's joints were old and rusty and the venomous wire got a clutch on his coat and his pants.

"What's keeping you back?" inquired the Captain, gruffly, as Cales and his comrade did not put in an immediate appearance.

"Pete has got caught, sir," said Jack.

"What are you doing there, you old barnacle?" inquired the Captain as he came back to the fence.

There was a certain odd comradeship between the skipper and the old salt who had been with him since his African days. Both were New Englanders and had come from neighboring homesteads.

"Just resting, sir," replied the captive.

It certainly did have something of that appearance, for Pete had kept a decisive grip on his old black pipe with his stubby teeth and was puffing at it in apparent peace and resignation.

"Want me to git you a piller?" inquired the skipper, sarcastically.

"Thank ye, sir," replied Pete imperturbably.

Meanwhile the mate had been at work with deft fingers and he finally succeeded in extricating the old man and putting him upon his pins.

"Now if ye are sufficiently rested," proposed the skipper, "we will hike along."

This they did. Their way now lay between two stretches of fence that enclosed a road not much traveled for there were only faint traces of wheels in the turf. It was probably not a public highway but belonged to the great ranch.

Everything seemed smooth sailing now, as there was no more barbed wire to be immediately met but Pete soon made himself prominent again. He was rolling along with that gait peculiar to a sailor when aboard land, when he gave a sudden spring and clutched Cales convulsively in the back, giving that individual a big scare.

"Dad burn it, boys. I've stepped on a rattler." An investigation was made very carefully and Captain Broom quickly picked up a short piece of rope.

"I'll rattle you," he cried, touching up the old man with the rope's end.

CHAPTER IV

PETE'S YARN

They went along steadily through the darkness in an almost directly easterly direction. Being now clear of the brush they could make good time on the springy turf.

"How far are we now from the ranch, Pete?" inquired Jack.

"Too durn close to suit me," replied Pete. "I can't tell exactly for these ranches are as big as all outside creation, but I guess we must be as close as a mile to the buildings."

"I reckon the Captain is going to walk up to the front door and ask for accommodations."

"Wouldn't s'prise me a bit, if he done that," replied Pete querulously. "The old man ain't lacking in nerve. Back thar was the first time I ever seen him hang back in my long experience with him."

"When the old lady was speaking her piece? Suppose I ask him how much he made when he captured the Senor," suggested Cales, who had recovered his flippant humor.

"I wouldn't git gay, lad," said old Pete, warningly. "She is just as liable to haunt you in your black spells."

"Don't have 'em, uncle," replied Cales.

"You collect the material for 'em when you are young," said the old man wisely, "and they come out of your bones like rheumatiz when you git old."

"Somebody is coming back of us," suddenly whispered Cales.

"Take to cover, lads," ordered the skipper, who was as quick to hear as the younger man. The only cover was a high and thick growth of wild mustard growing alongside the fences.

Quickly they stepped from the open road into the shelter of the tall mustard. They had not long to wait. There was the jingle of spurs and the thud of horses' feet walking slowly along. Next came the voices of men talking.

"It is useless, Senor, to try and find her, I fear," replied one man to the other.

"It seems so," replied the other sadly. "My mother always seems to be worse when the time of the year approaches that my father disappeared. In spite of all our care she will escape."

They had now arrived at a point opposite where the free-booters were hidden. The man who had last spoken struck a light and lit a cigarette; the instantaneous glare showed the dark handsome face of the Spanish type. There was the high-peaked sombrero, the striking clothes, the intent face and then the light died suddenly out.

"Ah, Manuel," said the young man to his companion, "if I could only once lay hands on that cursed Gringo," and he ground his teeth in fury, unable to express himself.

"Humph, Gringo," grunted the Captain, disdainfully.

"Did you hear anything, Senor?" asked Manuel.

"Nothing."

"I was sure I heard something," asserted his companion. They had reined in their horses and sat listening quietly for a few seconds.

"It was probably nothing but a calf by the roadside," said the Senor.

The other shook his head doubtfully, then they turned and rode on towards the rancho.

When they were safely out of range, the party of pirates took up their line of march once more.

"So the greaser took me for a calf," remarked Captain Broom. "If it had been you, Jack Cales, there might be some excuse fer such a mistake."

"Aye, sir," replied Cales, glumly.

"Getting kind of close to the ranch, ain't you, Cap'n?" ventured old Pete.

"I thought of leaving you there, Pete, while the rest of us corralled those kids. You are getting too old for these long tramps."

No more remarks were heard coming from the direction of Pete, for he was not at all sure but that the Captain might, in a moment of irresponsible humor, do just as he threatened without regard to the consequences.

After they had gone on for a mile from the point where the two men had overtaken them, Captain Broom led his party away from the road in a southerly direction, once more undergoing the harrowing experience of getting through the barbed wire fence. But this time Jack Cales was especially detailed by the Captain to get old Pete through so there would not be any unnecessary delay.

It was evident that they were getting into a different section, a short time after they left the road, for they began going up and winding among little rocky hills. At last they came to a stopping place. They climbed up an elevation and sat on some rocks among a group of dark trees.

"Now, lads, take it easy," said the Captain, "ye have had quite a