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Then without a word he stretched out and went immediately to sleep； a sleep through which horses raced and guns barked and where he was endlessly falling over blocks of lava into acres of cholla。
When he awakened it was dark and cold but a blanket had been thrown over him。 Faintly he smelled a wood fire。 He rolled over and sat up。
〃There is food；〃 Maria Cristina spoke from die shadows。 〃By the fire。〃
He stumbled to the edge of the pool and bathed himself； mopping his face and body dry with his shirt。 Wrapping himself in a blanket； he went to the fire。
There was a pot of stew and he ate hungrily； then ate from a stick of tortillas。 Then he sat down； looking at the moonlight's reflection on the dark water； listening to the night sounds and drinking coffee。
〃Suppose Lantz knows this place？〃 he asked。
〃Who knows？〃
She was silent for a time。 〃He is a devil 。。。 but not so bad as the rest。〃
They needed rest； the horse needed rest。 To go on in the night was out of ihe question。 They would just take a chance。 They must stay。
〃My father 。。。 he knew of this place。 It is a place of ihe Indies； of the Apaches。 They e here to make talk … but not often； I think。〃
He got up stiffly； every muscle plaining； and going to his saddle he got his bed roll。 He spread out his blankets and took off his boots。
When he had stretched out he said； 〃I am sorry about your face。〃
〃It is nothing。〃
〃The man I killed？〃
〃Si 。。。 Jack Sutton。〃
He drew the blanket about his shoulders and settled down to rest。 Once； lifting his head； he glanced around。 She sat unmoved and unmoving； her profile etched sharply against the sky beyond the lake。 He started to speak； then changed his mind and lay down。 In a moment he was breathing deeply and steadily。
Maria Cristina hunched the blanket around her shoulders and looked at the water。 She said nothing； she thought nothing； she was at this moment an Indian； at one with her world。
Fifteen miles back； huddled under an escarpment of sandstone； Hindeman and his men made dry camp。 It had been a day of defeat； of heat； dust and cacti。
At dawn they had found Jack Sutton。 He had been shot dead and it had been good shooting。 His gun； unfired； lay near his hand。 Looking down at the body； Buck Bayless felt a moment of shock； of near terror。 What kind of a man was Jordan？
Wounded unto death； he escaped。 Days later he came from hiding and left not a ghost of a trail and now he had slain Jack Sutton。 Buck Bayless felt his courage draining from him。 He felt sick and whipped。
Wes Parker touched his tongue to his lips and stole a careful look at Hindeman。 Yet he knew Hindeman would go on。 It was a trait of Hindeman's that he had admired。 Now he cursed it
Ben Hindeman could feel no remorse。 Sooner or later he would have had to kill Jack Sutton himself or be killed。 Now the man was dead； finished。 〃Woman crazy〃 he said aloud。 〃If he left her alone； he'd be alive。〃
〃She's a curse；〃 Buck Bayless said resentfully。 〃Shell be the death of us all。 Let her go； I say； and good riddance。〃
Ben Hindeman was angrily impatient 〃We can let her go；〃 he said； 〃but we can't let him go。 If one man can wipe his feet on the Sutton…Bayless outfit； we won't last out the year。 We kill him or we all go。〃
He swung a wide arm at the country。 〃There's fifty outfits in Arizona and New Mexico who want our graze。 There's two or three mighty near strong enough to do it。 Like John Slaughter。。。 that's why I kept Jack and Mort from going that way。〃
They were still there when Mort Bayless came in with four men。 These were the tough ones； the men with a reason to want Trace Jordan dead。 Mort Bayless had used an argument they could understand。 〃We got him runnin'；〃 he said。 〃You think he'll let up if we quit？ Not by a damn sightl
〃He'll bide his time an' he'll e back。 Folks will talk； he'll know who got his horses。 He'll hunt down every man…jack of us； you'll see！〃
He knew men…fears because he knew his own。 This was a danger they understood。 Jordan was a tough man and they had been fools to listen to Jack Sutton。 Beside the fire they hunkered down and made war talk。
〃Where'll they go？〃 Hindeman asked Lantz。
The old man spat into the fire。 〃No tellin'。 With the Mex gal we could figure some but Jordan's taken the lead now an' he knows where he's goin'。 This here desert is out of my knowin'。 Might be a sight of places around if a body knew 'em。〃
He took a pull at the coffee。 〃You been thinkin'； Ben？ This here's Apache country。 We get caught down here an' we're in genuine trouble。〃
〃No matter。 We'll find him。〃
〃Worse'n huntin' a needle in a haystack；〃 Buck Bayless plained。 〃We'd have to hunt up every canyon。 Take us ten year。〃
〃Hadn't better；〃 Ben Hindeman replied dryly。 〃Your wife will forget you in that time。〃
Wes Parker lifted himself to an elbow。 〃I'm goin' back。 I'm catchin' me that Mex kid。 If that gal knows a hideout down here； that kid should know。〃
Ben Hindeman considered that。 He did not like to have anyone abused but the situation was getting out of hand。 They were losing time and the ranch needed them。 All had work that needed doing。 Moreover； for the first time he was finding an element of doubt。 The increased caution of Lantz was part of it。
〃All right； Wes。 Take Buck with you。 Maybe he'll be better huntin'a Mex than a man。〃
〃Aw； Ben！〃 Buck protested plaintively。 〃That ain't no …〃
〃Shut up！〃 Ben was exasperated。 〃Jake； you do something about where they might go。 Meanwhile we'll get some sleep。〃
Lantz spat out his chewing。 〃Better set guards 〃 he said； 〃them broncho Apaches might want to collect some horses。〃
Buck Bayless retired to his blankets vastly satisfied。 What he wanted was less alkali and more beer。 To hell with Jordan！
Before daybreak Trace Jordan crawled from his blankets into the pre…dawn chill。 He slung his gun belts across his hips； then pulled on his boots。 The fire had died to thin gray ashes； so he gathered a few dried leaves from under the trees and some dried…out branches of the curl…leaf； which makes no smoke。
Maria Cristina lay huddled in her blankets where he had last seen her； so he broke sticks quietly and fed them into the flames。 He dipped water from the lake and placed the coffee pot on a stone by the fire to grow hot。
This place was well hidden。 It was surrounded by a Jungle of cholla； sometimes called jumping cactus； one of the most vicious of all the desert's plants。 There were cat…claw； organ pipe and a few barrel cacti。
Finding a way through the maze would not be easy。 He had stumbled upon it himself and even that trail had been difficult to follow。
When breakfast was ready he went to her and bent over to awaken her； yet even as he stooped； her eyes opened suddenly； dark and beautiful； ringed with black lashes。 Her expression was； at that moment； unreadable。 He started to reach for her； then drew back。 〃Got some coffee ready；〃 he said。
Their eyes held for a long moment and then she said； 〃All right。 I e。〃
Birds whistled and talked in the brush and the morning air was fresh and cool。 He could smell the faint scent of ironwood in bloom but doubted his senses； for the season was late。 Yet many desert plants b