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Suddenly Maria Cristina was fighting and then with the pony at a dead run she twisted free and flung herself from the saddle。 She hit the sand； bounding like a sack of old clothes； then rolling over。
The Apache veered to pursue her and Jordan came between them。 The Apache swung his rifle but Jordan parried the blow and struck up with the butt。 He knocked the rifle from the Indian's hands and then they were off their horses and fighting furiously。
The Apache's hand closed over his knife hilt first as Jordan hit him with a long right。 The blow knocked him down and Jordan sprang for him with both boots。 The Indian rolled over and came up fast and they closed； struggling fiercely。 Then Jordan broke a hand free and struck upward with his fist The blow knocked the Indian back and Jordan kicked him in the knee with his boot heel。
The Apache was blocky； powerfully muscled and tough。 He went down but rolled over and palmed his knife for a throw 。。。 and Trace Jordan shot him through the body。
The Apache fell； tried to get up； then sprawled out。 He lay still then； a slim brown body in the hot white sun； and the dust of the fighting sifted over。
Trace Jordan mopped the sweat from his brow。 Of the other Indians there was no sign。 He turned slowly and walked toward Maria Cristina。
She was on her feet； facing him。 Her face was dusty and her hair blew in the wind。 It blew across her cheek。 Her hands were bound together and her blouse was torn but she stood； feet apart； waiting for him。
He cut free her hands。 For an instant they stood together； their eyes holding。 He started to take her in his arms but she stepped back quickly； shrinking； her eyes wide like those of a frightened animal 〃No 。 。 。 No 。 。 。〃
He let his hands fall。 Turning； he went to where his horse waited and gathered up the reins。 Then he rounded up an Apache pony and led it to her。 Without ment she mounted and as she got into the Indian's blanket saddle he noticed she had taken the Indian's Winchester and ammunition。 The cartridge belt was slung across her shoulder。
Behind them the dust was closer。 He even believed he could distinguish figures through the dust。
They started； but not too fast The horses behind them had e far and would be in no shape for a sprint。 And his own horse needed rest。
They were riding north now and his thoughts were going on ahead。 This was still Mexico but the Arizona border was north of them and they would reach the border sixty or seventy miles west of the Sutton…Bayless holdings。 If they could reach a town； Just any town where there was a sheriff。 。。。
But there was no town。 Not close enough to help。 Tubac was still farther west； Tucson and Tombstone too far north。 Their best chance was the John Slaughter ranch at San Bernardino Springs。 And there was a chance they could reach it in time。 They might then claim sanctuary from John Slaughter and he was no man with whom to trifle； not even the Sutton outfit。
He led the way into an arroyo； then doubled back along the canyon to another； then out of it and into a thick forest of yucca and nopal。 He used every trick now； riding slower； taking their time； their horses a dozen yards apart to raise less dust They used the brush for cover； moving together； then apart。
Behind them the riders had separated； they had spread out to cover more ground。 And they were gaining。
Suddenly he had an idea。 It came to him out of nowhere； so foolish； so risky； so dangerous that for a moment he doubted his sanity。 It was the fact that they were riding spread out that gave them a chance。
He glanced right and left； seeing some fairly dense brush。 Lifting a hand for a halt during the few minutes they were out of sight； he slid quicldy to the ground and threw his horse。 By the time Maria Cristina had e up； he had blindfolded his horse and； seeing what he had done； she slid to the ground and did likewise。 Hurriedly then they gathered brush to cover both horses。 Then they lay down； under the edge of the brush themselves。 Big Red was trembling but at the calming voices of Jordan and Maria Cristina both horses quieted； frightened by this sudden darkness in which they found themselves。
It was an old trick。 Many a time he had seen horses led across rickety bridges in this way or taken from fires。 A blindfolded horse lies quiet。
It was very hot。 The heat of the earth was frightful。 If one of the horses moved at the wrong time 。。。 but the sudden darkness held them still。
Dust was thick beneath them。 Gun in hand； he waited。 Sweat ran down his face and he knew that if one of the riders swung closer and came into this space their concealment would not be sufficient。 There was the smell of the horse； of his own unwashed clothing； and the mingled smells of creosote and crushed thamnosma。 And then he heard the horses ing。
He heard two of them at once and was immediately sure they were too close。 He tensed； ready to spring up shooting。 If they got him he figured he could take at least two with him。 He would 。。。 he could hear a horse walking。 He put a quieting hand on Big Red。
A man swore bitterly and he heard brush scrape along his chaps。 The man nearest them yelled； 〃See anything？〃
〃No！〃 The reply was from some distance off to the other side。 〃Canyon up ahead。〃
Their concealment was far from adequate。 Only their pursuers were not expecting this and their eyes were looking ahead； always ahead。
The riders went by and then as he was about to look； another rider； and closer still。 They heard the horse walking； heard a cork pulled from a canteen and the gurgle of water as the rider drank At the moment he passed them he was plainly within view； only his head was tipped back and he was drinking。 Then they heard him rinse his mouth and spit。
Trace Jordan lay stifl； counting a slow fifty。 When he did take a chance and look he could see but one rider； some distance off。 The rest must have gone down into the canyon the rider had mentioned。 Swiftly they got to their feet and； ripping off the blindfolds； got the horses to their feet。
Turning at right angles they headed west； then turned north again； wanting to lose no miles that would carry them closer to safety。 Soon they went into the forest of yucca； and when well inside were out of sight of anyone behind them。
What they had gained was at best a breathing spell。 When Lantz found no more tracks he would begin searching。 They would back…trail until they found the brush and the marks of the bodies。 Jordan grinned； picturing the old tracker's disgust。 But they had gained an hour； perhaps less。
Several intermittent streams that flowed only during the rains lay between themselves and the border。 Some of these flowed into the Bio de San Bernardino； and others to the Bio de Bavispe。 The canyon of one of these streams might offer some protection for their ride to the border； although most of them ran northeast instead of northwest
There was no run left in the Apache pony and not enough in the big red horse。 And then they found the canyon they needed and； descending into it； they rode into the shallow water which flowed much of the distance over shelves of stone and they rode upstream。
For over a mile they rode in water scarcely hock…deep； then down to a thin sheet scarcely more than two inches in depth。 They dismounted now and walked； liking the feeling of the cool water on their feet； leaving slow miles behind them and little trail。
Ten miles from the point at which they entered the canyon； they saw a way out and accepted the chance。 Carefully they mounted the wall At the rim； Jordan stepped down from the saddle and took a long； slow study of the country。
Wherever he looked the country was wide and barren。 There were rocks and much cacti； thickets of mesquite； broken ledges upthrust from below。
Emerging； they proceeded with care。 Exhaustion had drawn his face into haggard lines。 Dust lay along the creases in his face。 His eyeballs grated in their sockets and he rode in a daze of weariness。 Half a length back； slumping in the saddle； Maria Cristina sat a horse that was all but ready to drop。
They needed rest； food and a chance to recuperate。 They needed fodder for the horses。
When he first saw the scraggly…looking brush he was not impressed。 It was like fifty other such vague clumps they had passed。 It stretched out over most of an acre but what caught his attention was a dip in the ground at one edge of the clump。 He rode nearer。 It was a hollow nestled with brush and； inside； a small clearing。 It was a doubtful…looking place but it offered shelter of an unsuspected kind。 In the bottom of the hollow there was a small seep。
They could risk no fire but there was grass for the horses and water they could suck from the grass of the seep。 Trace Jordan unsaddled the horses and put them on picket ropes； then began making a small pool by pulling clumps of grass in the wettest part of the seep。 Maria Gristina returned to the clearing with some green leaves with reddish stems。 These she soaked in water and held against a cut on her arm。
〃Yerba mansa；〃 Jordan said； looking at the leaves。
She looked up； faintly amused。 〃Well！ What d'you know！ You know the herbs。〃
〃Some。〃
〃Maybe you do well on your ranch。 Maybe you good for something after all。〃
He chuckled。 〃You're hard to convince；〃 he said。 〃I never saw a woman like you。〃
〃What woman？ I think you never see a woman。 I think all you know is horse。 Horse and fight。〃 She looked at him critically。 〃You fight pretty good。〃
They divided the little jerky that was left and two somewhat battered sandy tortillas。 They sat down together； watching the horses browse in the little circle of brush。
〃You slow；〃 she said。 〃What keep you today！ I think maybe those Apaches get away with me。〃
There was the suspicion of a smile at the corners of her eyes and mouth。 Deep within him something warm grew and mounted。
What a woman！ To have a smile left after this！ But it was there 。。。 a little grim but no longer sullen。 She reacted to the danger； the hardship and the flight with a wry smile and a touch of humor。
〃Wasn't anxious to catch up；〃 he said。 〃Soon's they found out what they had； they'd have got rid of you。 Saved me some trouble。〃
〃Hah？ You think I'm no good for something？〃
He looked at her； coolly estimating。 〃I think you're good for plenty；〃 he said。 〃Sometime I'll show you some of the things you're good for。〃
She laughed outright； her eyes sparkling； taunting。 〃You think so？ Me； I don' think so。 I don't think you ever make it！〃
Chapter Five
A fire was out of the question。 They had lost their pursuit for the time being but even in this secluded place it would be foolish to risk the slightest smoke。 Nor had they any food remaining but coffee and little of that。
Maria Cristina walked to the edge of the brush and watched the desert。 The momentary lightness of her mood was gone。 She was too wise in the ways of the country not to be pletely aware of their situation。 They had not won to freedom； only temporary delay。 Ben Hindeman would discover at any time what they had done and once more would be on their trail
Each hour of delay was a victory； yet each hour brought them closer to the final decision。
Had Maria Cristina not been with him Trace Jordan would have stopped running。 Tired as he was； weak as he still was from his wound； he was nevertheless on the mend。 Not even the grueling ride across the desert could keep his strength from rebuilding。 Such life had now been his for a good many years。
If she had not been with him he would have turned back and begun to hunt the hunters。 He would have been carrying the war to them； rather than running and hiding。 Yet he must think of Maria Cristina first。
They were fortunate in their hiding place。 There was enough grass and water for the horses and there would be enough to fill their canteens when they left。 Also； it was not at all a likely place for any searchers to look。 From the outside desert it seemed to offer nothing。
〃Better get some sleep；〃 he advised when she returned from the edge of the brush。 〃I'll keep watch。〃
〃You sleep 。。。 I watch。〃 She looked at him with level eyes； aloof； remote once more。 〃I call you。〃
He was dead tired but he hesitated。 Yet she was obviously wide awake an