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THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE
"he dropped to his knees, his ear to the earth"
knew only too well how clearly marked in the dust were the hoofprints of her mount. She bent over his neck coaxingly.
"Put wings on thy feet, amigo mio!" she breathed into his ear. "I am but a featherweight for thee, young and strong and fleet as thou art. And thy master's life — my beloved 's life — depends on thee ! ' '
The bronco laid back his velvety ears, and, as tho he understood, quickened his pace until he seemed to skim above the earth. That heart-breaking speed could not last long, but the girl calculated that it would draw on the sheriff and his deputies, wear out their horses and give Pedro his chance to escape.
The bronco began to flag. She could now hear the distant clatter of many hoofs. Turning from the road, she sought the shelter of the woods. She heard the horsemen gallop past anl laughed, fanning her flushed face with Pedro 's sombrero. ' ' Good ! ' ' she
murmured. "May they never come back!"
But they discovered their mistake sooner than she anticipated. "When she heard them returning, she slipped from the saddle and hid among the heavy, drooping boughs of a mountain-laurel. The sheriff and his deputies, entering the copse, paused upon espying the bronco; they drew out their revolvers and looked warily about. Something among the leaves of the laurel arrested their searching eyes. It was Pedro's light gray sombrero. Cautiously a deputy approached and parted the branches. At the same time the sheriff commanded the crouching figure to come forth. With the wide-brimmed hat pulled over her face, Melita crawled out. Then, suddenly standing erect, she pulled off the hat and made the officers a sweeping bow.
"Buenas dias, caballeros Americanos ! ' ' she laughed, mockingly. ' * You were looking for me V '