The high pass and the _insurrectos_ were behind them now and the
rolling plains of Agua Negra were at their feet. To the northeast the
smoke banners of the Gadsden smelters lay like ribbons across the sky,
and the line was not far away.
Yet, as they came down from the mountains, Bud and Gracia fell silent
and slackened their slashing pace. The time for parting was near, and
partings are always sad.
Bud looked far out across the valley to where a train puffed in from
the south, and the sight of it made him uneasy. He watched still as it
lay at the station and, after a prolonged stare in the direction of
Agua Negra, he reined sharply to the north.
"What is it?" asked Gracia, coming out of her reverie.
"Oh, nothing," answered Bud, slumping down in his saddle. "I see the
railroad is open again--the' might be somebody up there looking for us."
"You mean--"
"Well, say a bunch of _rurales_."
He turned still farther to the north as he spoke and spurred his jaded
horse on. Gracia kept her roan beside him, but he took no notice,
except as he scanned the line with his bloodshot eyes. He was a
hard-looking man now, with a rough stubble of beard on his face and a
sullen set to his jaw. As two horsemen rode out from distant Agua Negra
he turned and glanced at Gracia.
"Seems like we been on the run ever since we left Fortuna," he said
with a rueful smile. "Are you good for just one more?"
"What is it now?" she inquired, pulling herself together with an
effort. "Are those two men coming out to meet us? Do you think they'd
stop us?"
"That's about our luck," returned Hooker. "But when we dip out of sight
in this swale here we'll turn north and hit for the line."
"All right," she agreed. "My horse is tired, but I'll do whatever you
say, Bud."
She tried to catch his eyes at this, but he seemed lost in
contemplation of the horsemen.
"Them's _rurales_," he said at last, "and heading straight for us--but
we've come too far to get caught now. Come on!" he added bruskly, and
went galloping up the swale.
For two miles they rode up the wash, their heads below the level of the
plain, but as Bud emerged at the mouth of the gulch and looked warily
over the cut bank he suddenly reached for his rifle and measured the
distance to the line.
"They was too foxy for me," he muttered, as Gracia looked over at the
approaching _rurales_. "But I can stand 'em off," he added, "so you go
ahead."
"No!" she cried, coming out in open rebellion.
"Well, I won't leave you--that's all!" she declared, as he turned to
command her. "Oh, come along, Bud!" She laid an impulsive hand on his
arm and he thrust his gun back into the sling with a thud.
"All right!" he said. "Can't stop to talk about it. Go ahead--and flay
the hide off of that roan!"
They were less than a mile from the line, but the _rurales_ had
foreseen their ruse in dropping into the gulch and had turned at the
same time to intercept them. They were pushing their fresh horses to
the utmost now across the open prairie, and as the roan lagged and
faltered in his stride Bud could see that the race was lost.
"Head for that monument!" he called to Gracia, pointing toward one of
the international markers as he faced their pursuers. "You'll make
it--they won't shoot a woman!"
He reached for his gun as he spoke.
"No, no!" she cried. "Don't you stop! If you do I will! Come on!"
she entreated, checking her horse to wait for him. "You ride behind
me--they won't dare shoot at us then!"
Bud laughed shortly and wheeled in behind her, returning his gun to its
sling.
"All right," he said, "we'll ride it out together then!"
He laid the quirt to the roan. In the whirl of racing bushes a white
monument flashed up suddenly before them. The _rurales_ were within
pistol-shot and whipping like mad to head them. Another figure came
flying along the line, a horseman, waving his hands and motioning.
Then, riding side by side, they broke across the boundary with the
baffled _rurales_ yelling savagely at their heels.
"Keep a-going!" prompted Hooker, as Gracia leaned back to check her
horse. "Down into the gulch there--them _rurales_ are liable to shoot
yet!"
The final dash brought them to cover, but as Bud leaped down and took
Gracia in his arms the roan spread his feet, trembled, and dropped
heavily to the ground.
"He'll be all right," soothed Bud, as Gracia still clung to his arm.
Then, as he saw her gaze fixed beyond him, he turned and beheld Philip
De Lancey.
It was the same Phil, the same man Bud had called pardner, and yet when
Hooker saw him there he stiffened and his face grew hard.
"Well?" he said, slowly detaching Gracia's fingers and putting her hand
away.
As Phil ran forward to greet them he stepped sullenly off to one side.
What they said he did not know, for his mind was suddenly a blank; but
when Phil rushed over and wrung his hand he came back to earth with a
start.
"Bud!" cried De Lancey ecstatically, "how can I ever thank you enough?
You brought her back to me, didn't you, old man? Thank God, you're
safe--I've been watching for you with glasses ever since I heard you
had started! I knew you would do it, pardner; you're the best friend
a man ever had! But--say, come over here a minute--I want to speak to
you."
He led Hooker off to one side, while Gracia watched them with jealous
eyes, and lowered his voice as he spoke.
"It was awful good of you, Bud," he whispered, "but I'm afraid you've
got in bad! The whole town is crazy about it. Old Aragon came up on the
first train, and now they've wired that you killed Del Rey. By Jove,
Bud! wasn't that pulling it a little strong? Captain of the _rurales_,
you know--the whole Mexican government is behind him--and Aragon wants
you for kidnapping!"
"What's that?" demanded Gracia, as she heard her own name spoken.
Bud looked at Phil, who for once was at a loss for words, and then he
answered slowly.
"Your father is down at the station," he said, "looking for--you!"
"Well, he can't have me!" cried Gracia defiantly. "I'm across the line
now! I'm free! I can do what I please!"
"But there's the immigration office," interposed Phil pacifically. "You
will have to go there--and your father has claimed you were kidnapped."
"Ha! Kidnapped!" laughed Gracia, who had suddenly recovered her
spirits. "And by whom?"
"Well--by Bud here," answered De Lancey hesitatingly.
Gracia turned as he spoke and surveyed Hooker with a mocking smile.
Then she laughed again.
"Never mind," she said, "I'll fix that. I'll tell them that I kidnapped
_him_!"
"No, but seriously!" protested De Lancey, as Bud chuckled hoarsely.
"You can't cross the line without being passed by the inspectors,
and--well, your father is there to get you back."
"But I will not go!" flung back Gracia.
"Oh, my dear girl!" cried De Lancey, frowning in his perplexity, "you
don't understand, and you make it awful hard for me. You know they're
very strict now--so many low women coming across the line, for--well,
the fact is, unless you are married you can't come in at all!"
"But I'm _in_!" protested Gracia, flushing hotly. "I'm--"
"They'll deport you," said De Lancey, stepping forward to give her
support.
"I know it's hard, dear," he went on, as Bud moved hastily away, "but
I've got it all arranged. Why should we wait? You came to marry me,
didn't you? Well, you must do it now--right away! I've got the license
and the priest all waiting--come on before the _rurales_ get back to
town and report that you've crossed the line. We can ride around to the
north and come in at the other side of town. Then we--"
"Oh, no, no!" cried Gracia, pushing him impulsively aside. "I am not
ready now. And--"
She paused and glanced at Bud.
"Mr. Hooker," she began, walking gently toward him, "what will you do
now?"
"I don't know," answered Hooker huskily.
"Will you come with us--will you--"
"No," said Bud, shaking his head slowly.
"Then I must say good-by?"
She waited, but he did not answer.
"You have been so good to me," she went on, "so brave, and--have I been
brave, too?" she broke in pleadingly.
Hooker nodded his head, but he did not meet her eyes.
"Ah, yes," she sighed. "You have heard what Phil has said. I wish now
that my mother were here, but--would you mind? Before I go I want
to--give you a kiss!"
She reached out her hands impulsively and Hooker started back. His
eyes, which had been downcast, blazed suddenly as he gazed at her, and
then they flitted to Phil.
"No," he said, and his voice was lifeless and choked.
"You will not?" she asked, after a pause.
"No!" he said again, and she shrank away before his glance.
"Then good-by," she murmured, turning away like one in a dream, and Bud
heard the crunch of her steps as she went toward the horses with Phil.
Then, as the tears welled to his eyes, he heard a resounding slap and a
rush of approaching feet.
"No!" came the voice of Gracia, vibrant with indignation. "I say _no_!"
The spat of her hand rang out again and then, with a piteous sobbing,
she came running back to Bud, halting with the stiffness of her long
ride.
"I hate you!" she screamed, as Phil came after her. "Oh, I hate you!
No, you shall _never_ have the kiss! What! if Bud here has refused it,
will I give a kiss to _you_? Ah, you poor, miserable creature!" she
cried, wheeling upon him in a sudden fit of passion. "Where were _you_
when I was in danger? Where were _you_ when there was no one to save
me? And did you think, then, to steal a kiss, when my heart was sore
for Bud? Ah, coward! You are no fit pardner! No, I will never marry
you--never! Well, go then! And hurry! Oh, how I hate you--to try to
steal me from Bud!"
She turned and threw her arms about Hooker's neck and drew his rough
face down to hers.
"You do love me, don't you, Bud?" she sobbed. "Oh, you are so good--so
brave! And now will you take the kiss?"
"Try me!" said Bud.