He strode over to where Amigo had posted himself behind a rock and laid a hand on his arm.
"_Adios, Amigo!_" he said, but the Yaqui only glanced at him strangely.
"Anything in my camp, you are welcome to it," added Hooker, but Amigo did not respond. His black eyes, far-seeing as a hawk's, were fixed intently before him, where Del Rey came galloping in the lead.
"You go now!" he said, speaking with an effort, and Hooker understood. There was no love, no hate, left in that mighty carcass--he was all warrior, all Yaqui, and he wanted Del Rey to himself.
"We'll be going," Hooker said to Gracia, returning swiftly, and his subdued tones made her start. She felt, as one feels at a funeral, the hovering wings of death, yet she vaulted into her saddle and left her thoughts unsaid.
They rode on down the valley, spurring yet holding back, and then with a roar that made them jump the heavy Mauser spoke out--one shot! And no more. There was a hush, a long wait, and Amigo rose slowly from behind his rock.
[Illustration: With a roar that made them jump the heavy Mauser spoke out]
"God!" exclaimed Hooker, as he caught the pose, and his voice sounded a requiem for Manuel del Rey.
Then, as Gracia crossed herself and fell to sobbing, he leaned forward in his saddle and they galloped away.
Though men may make a jest of it in books, it is a solemn thing to kill a man, even to be near when one is killed. If Gracia had slain Del Rey herself in a passion her hot blood might have buoyed her up, but now her whole nature was convulsed with the horror of it and she wilted like a flower.
An hour before she had burned with hatred of him, she had wished him dead and sought the man who would kill him. Now that his life had been snipped off between two heart-beats she remembered him with pity and muttered a prayer for his soul. For Hooker, for De Lancey, she had no thought, but only for the dashing young captain who had followed her to his death.
Of this Bud had no knowledge. He realized only that she was growing weaker, and that he must call a halt, and at last, when the walls of their pass had widened and they rode out into the open plain, he turned aside from the trail and drew rein by a clump of mesquit.