George at the Wheel. Castlemon Harry

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go on. What else do you know?"

      "I know that you expect to receive a thousand head of fat cattle, as your reward, for making a prisoner of me. You can tell Fletcher, for his satisfaction, that the next time he wants to put a spy into any of the ranches in this country, he had better select a more reliable man than that Mexican cook. There!" added George, to himself, "If I am not very much mistaken, Philip is in a fair way to see as much trouble as he has tried to get me into."

      There could be no doubt about that, if the expression on the faces of the boy's captors, was any index of the thoughts that were passing through their minds. He had purposely aroused their suspicions against the cook, and the significant glances they exchanged with each other, had a volume of meaning in them.

      "When I get home, the first thing I do will be to tell Jake to kick Philip out of the house," said George, again communing with himself. "Of course, Fletcher will want to know who told me all these things, and it would never do to say that I got my information from Springer. I say," he added, aloud, "where do you fellows make your home, anyhow?"

      "You'll see when you get thar," replied one of the men.

      "I suppose you were with Fletcher on the night he jumped down on me and stampeded my cattle, were you not?" continued George.

      "Mebbe we was, an' mebbe we wasn't."

      "I know who was there."

      "Who?"

      "Springer. He used to herd cattle for my father, you know, and I recognised him the moment I put my eyes on him. He was shot right there," said George, placing the forefingers of each hand on his legs to indicate the spots where Zeke's bullets had found a lodgement. "He was badly injured, too, and I don't believe he ever got back across the river."

      "Wal, he did," said one of the men. "He had a hard time of it, but he got through all right, an' he's thar now."

      "I am very glad to hear it," said George, to himself. "That's just what I was trying to get at. If I can find him, perhaps he will help me escape."

      George held no further conversation with his captors during the ride, for they were busy talking with each other. As they conversed wholly in the Spanish language, George could not understand what they said, but still he knew that they were talking about Philip, for he heard his name mentioned now and then, and it was almost always coupled with an oath. They seemed to think that their trusted spy had been guilty of treachery, and they made a report to that effect when they got across the river.

      It was five miles to the nearest belt of timber, and while they were travelling toward it, the cattle-thieves exercised the utmost caution, stopping on the top of every swell and sweeping their eyes around the horizon to make sure that there was no one in sight. But they reached the timber without being seen by anybody, and there they camped to wait until dark. They did not think it safe to approach the ford in broad daylight. George now had an opportunity to finish the nap from which he had been so rudely awakened, and the cattle-thieves took turns in standing guard.

      When night came, he was ordered into the saddle again and led toward the ford, his captors taking the same precautions as before to prevent his escape. They crossed the river in safety, and as soon as their horses had mounted the opposite bank, they were put to their full speed. There was no need of concealment now, for the cattle-thieves were among friends who, had they been pursued by ranchemen or troops from Texas, would have done everything in their power to aid them to escape.

      They now had a journey of eighteen miles before them, and it required but a little over two hours for them to accomplish it. It was so dark at first that George could not see his hand before him; but the moon arose after a while, and then he was able to see that they were following a well-beaten trail, which ran in a tortuous course through the hills. This trail finally led them into a wide valley, from the middle of which arose the whitewashed walls of what had been a comfortable rancho. Their horses' hoofs rang out loudly on the pavement as they rode unchallenged into the open gateway and along the arched passage that led to the spacious patio or court-yard. It was deserted, save by a few goats that were feeding at a pile of fodder in one corner, and a disconsolate dog or two which, having been awakened from his sleep, was stealing off under the shadow of the walls to find a new resting-place.

      On the four sides of the court-yard, doorways without doors yawned darkly at the intruders. In front of one of these doors the cattle-thieves dismounted, and while one remained outside to guard the prisoner, the other entered with the horses, which he hitched there and supplied with a feed of corn. When he came out again, he brought the saddles and blankets with him.

      "Now then," said he, as he led the way into one of the adjoining apartments, "we'll go in here. Thar's plenty of room in our hotel, and thar's no need of crowdin' the boarders. Spread your blanket down anywheres, young fellow, and don't try to skip outen here durin' the night, fur we always sleep with one eye open."

      As if to put all attempts at escape out of the question, the speaker spread his own couch in front of the door and stretched himself upon it.

      A bed which consists simply of a blanket and saddle is quickly made up, and George, who had not yet recovered from the fatigue of his five days' journey on foot, fell fast asleep almost as soon as he took possession of it. When he awoke at daylight he was not a little astonished at what he saw. The rooms opening off the court-yard, which had been so silent and apparently deserted when he rode into the rancho had, during his sleep, given up a most unexpected tenantry – men, women, children, goats and dogs, so many, in fact, that it was a wonder where they all came from. A confused babel of voices saluted his ears, and finally awoke his captors, who made no effort to restrain him when he put on his sombrero and walked out into the courtyard.

      Having heard some astonishing stories told of the almost regal state maintained by wealthy Mexican rancheros before the war, George looked about him with the greatest interest. On every side he saw the lingering remains of departed grandeur. In the centre of the court-yard was a ruined fountain, and beyond it was a long column of fluted pillars, with gaily-carved capitals. In front of these pillars were the remains of a garden, now trodden hard with the pressure of many feet, but still affording a little sustenance to a few flowerless shrubs and one or two sickly orange and fig trees. Upon the broad stone verandah on the other side of the fluted columns the master of the house had doubtless feasted his guests, or smoked and dozed away the time in his hammock, while the fountain played merrily and the air was redolent of the perfume of flowers. Now slouching figures, clad in rusty leather trowsers and velvet jackets, and smoking villainous cigarettes, swaggered through the court-yard, and from the adjoining rooms, with their tessellated floors and frescoed ceilings, came the impatient calls of hungry cattle and horses, which were growing tired of waiting for their breakfast.

      While George was wondering where the master was, and what had happened to bring about so great a change in the house, he walked slowly along the court-yard, glancing into all the rooms as he passed, and no one spoke to him, or even seemed to notice him. He took a survey of the verandah, which was littered with blankets, ponchos, saddles and weapons, and was about to retrace his steps, when he heard a suppressed exclamation of astonishment near him, and turned quickly to find himself face to face with his father's old herdsman, the cattle-thief who had warned him against his Uncle John. He sat on his blanket, with his back against the wall, and the crutches which lay by his side proved that he had not yet fully recovered from the wounds that had been inflicted upon him by Zeke's Winchester.

      "Hallo, Springer!" exclaimed George, starting forward; but as he was about to mount the steps leading to the verandah, the man threw up his hand, with a warning gesture.

      "Keep your distance," said he, in a low tone. "We mustn't be too friendly, kase thar's too many watchin' you!"

      "Humph!" exclaimed George. "There doesn't seem to

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