Some two hours out from La Feria the riders halted at a point
where the road dipped into a rocky stream-bed; then, as the horses
drank, Dolores voiced a thought that had troubled all of them.
"If that bandit really means to spare us, why did he send us away
in the night, like this?" she asked. "I shall be surprised if we
are not assassinated before morning."
"He must have meant it." Alaire spoke with a conviction she did
not entirely feel. "Father O'Malley aroused the finer side of his
nature."
"Perhaps," agreed the priest. "Somewhere in him there is a fear of
God."
But Dave was skeptical. "More likely a fear of the gringo
Government," said he. "Longorio is a four-flusher. When he
realized he was licked he tried to save his face by a grandstand
play. He didn't want to let us go."
"Then what is to prevent him from--well, from having us followed?"
Alaire inquired.
"Nothing," Dave told her.
As they climbed the bank and rode onward into the night she said:
"No matter what happens, dear, I shall be happy, for at last one
of my dreams has come true." He reached out and patted her.
"You've no idea what a coward I was until you came.
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