"Let Sheba run your camp, and run it to hell, will you?" went on Cap Pike accusingly. He was thrashing around among the growth back of the Soledad outfit wagon where the mules had been tethered. "Two—four—six, and Baby Buntin'—yes sir! Lit out by the dark of the moon, and left neither hide nor hair,—"

"Oh, be reasonable, Cap!" protested Kit. "Buntin' isn't gone—she's right alongside here, waiting for breakfast."

"You're shoutin' she's here; so is every dragged-to-death skate you hit camp with! It's Billie's crackerjack mules, the pick of the ranch, that the bare-legged greasy heathen hit the trail with! And every water bag!"

"Well," decided Kit, verifying the water statement by a glance at the barrels, "no one is to blame. The boy didn't want to come this trail. He stuck until we were over the rough of it, and then he cut loose. A pair of mules isn't so bad."

"Now, of course not!" agreed Cap sarcastically. "A mere A-number-one pair of mules belonging to another fellow is only a flea bite to offer a visitor for supper! Well, all I got to say——"

"Don't say it, Cap dear," suggested Billie. "The Indian was here because of Dona Jocasta, and she can't help it! As she doesn't understand English, she'll probably think you're murdering some of us over here. Whist now, and put your muzzle on! We'll get home without the two mules. I'll go and tell her that the hysterics is your way of offering morning prayers!"

She slipped away, laughing at his protests, but when a little past the fire place she halted, standing very still, peering beyond at something on the ground under the greasewood where the serape of Dona Jocasta had been spread. No serape or sleeper was there!

Kit noted her startled pause, and in a few strides was beside her; then, without a word, the two went forward together and he picked up the package of papers laid carefully under the greasewood. He knew without opening them what they were,—the records made for her safety, and for his, in Soledad, place of tragedies.

"They are the papers I was to put on record for her in case—Well, I'll do it, and you'll take care of the copies for her, Billie, and—and do your best for the girl if a chance ever comes. We owe her a lot more than she will ever guess,—our gold come out of Mexico under the guard arranged for her, and when I come back——"

"But Kit," protested Billie, "to think of her alone with that thieving Indian! He took flour and bacon too! And if she hopes to find her husband——"

"She doesn't," concluded Kit thoughtfully turning over the certificate signed by the padre and him, of the husband's safe burial in the sands of Soledad. He glanced at Billie in doubt. One never knew how safe it was to tell things,—some things,—to a woman; also Billie was so enchanted by Jocasta's sad beauty, and——

"No, I reckon she doesn't hope much along that line. She has probably gone back to the wilderness for another reason,—one I never suspected until last night. And Lark-child, we won't talk about that, not at least till I return from the 'back of beyond' over there," and he pointed eastward where shafts of copper light touched the gray veil of the morning.

After his first explosion of amazement Cap Pike regarded the elopement, as he called it, very philosophically, considering his disgust over lost mules and flour and bacon.

"What did I tell you right here last night?" he demanded of Kit. "Soft as velvet and hard as hell,—that's what I said! She looks to me like a cross between a saint in a picture frame and a love bird in a tree, and her eyes! Yet after all no man can reckon on that blood,—she is only a girl of the hills down there, and the next we hear of her she'll likely be leaden' a little revolution of her own."

The young chap made no reply, but busied himself hastening a scant breakfast in order that the worn mules be got to water before the worst heat of a dry day. Also the losses to the culinary outfit did make problems for the trip.

Cap eyed him askance for a space, and then with a chuckle wilfully misconstrued his silence and lowered his tone.

"I don't blame you for feeling downhearted on your luck, Bub, for she sure was a looker! But it's all in a lifetime, and as you ramble along in years, you'll find that most any hombre can steal them, and take them home, but when it comes to getting a permanent clinch on the female affections——"

Billie, who was giving a short ration of water to the burro, called across to ask what Kit was laughing at in that hilarious way. She also stated that she did not think it a morning for hilarity, not at all! That wonderful, beautiful, mystery woman might be going to her death!

After the packs were all on, Cap Pike swung the mules of the first wagon into the home trail and passed over the mesa singing rakishly.

Oh-h! Biddy McGee has been after me, Since I've been in the army!

And Billie turned in the saddle to take a last look over the trail where the woman of the emerald eyes had passed in the night.

"All my life I have looked, and looked into the beautiful mirages of the south desert wondering what would come out of it—and she was the answer," she said, smiling at Kit. "Tomorrow I'll feel as if it was all a dream, all but the wonderful red gold, and you! Some fine day we'll take a little pasear down there, I'll follow that dream trail, and——"

"You will not!" decided the chosen of her heart with rude certainty. "The dreams of that land of mirages are likely to breed nightmares. You are on the right side of the border for women to stay. Our old American eagle is a pretty safe bird to roost with."

"Well," debated the only girl, "if it comes to that, Mexico also has the eagle, and had it first!"

"Yes, contrary child," he conceded, herding the mules into line, "so it has,—but the eagle of Mexico is still philandering with a helmeted serpent. Wise gamblers reserve their bets on that game, we can only hope that the eagle fights its way free!"

THE END