On their way to Derrick's ranch house, Hilma and Mrs. Derrick heard the sounds of distant firing.
"Stop!" cried Hilma, laying her hand upon young Vacca's arm. "Stop the horses. Listen, what was that?"
The carry-all came to a halt and from far away across the rustling wheat came the faint rattle of rifles and revolvers.
"Say," cried Vacca, rolling his eyes, "oh, say, they're fighting over there."
Mrs. Derrick put her hands over her face.
"Fighting," she cried, "oh, oh, it's terrible. Magnus is there -- and Harran."
"Where do you think it is?" demanded Hilma.
"That's over toward Hooven's."
"I'm going. Turn back. Drive to Hooven's, quick."
"Better not, Mrs. Annixter," protested the young man. "Mr. Annixter said we were to go to Derrick's. Better keep away from Hooven's if there's trouble there. We wouldn't get there till it's all over, anyhow."
"Yes, yes, let's go home," cried Mrs. Derrick. "I'm afraid. Oh, Hilma, I'm afraid."
"Come with me to Hooven's then."
"There, where they are fighting? Oh, I couldn't. I -- I can't. It would be all over before we got there as Mr. Vacca says."
"Sure," repeated young Vacca.
"Drive to Hooven's," commanded Hilma. "If you won't, I'll walk there." She threw off the lap-robes, preparing to descend. "And you," she exclaimed, turning to Mrs. Derrick, "how can you -- when Harran and your husband may be -- may -- are in danger."
Grumbling, Vacca turned the carry-all about and drove across the open fields till he reached the road to Guadalajara, just below the Mission.
"Hurry!" cried Hilma.
The horses started forward under the touch of the whip. The ranch houses of Quien Sabe came in sight.
"Do you want to stop at the house?" inquired Vacca over his shoulder.
"No, no; oh, go faster -- make the horses run."