A ribbon of winding road leads northeast from the pueblo of Domingo and the snaky Bajada hill where gray rocks lie thickly; it is a yellowish ribbon of road, sweeping over the gigantic mesa toward Santa Fe and the sweetly glowing Blood of Christ peaks-great peaks of green spearing into the sky, white-crested, and tipped with blood at sunset. Along this ribbon of dusty yellow road was crawling a flivver. It was crawling slowly, in a jerky series of advances and pauses; as it crept along its intermittent course, the woman who sat behind the wheel was cursing her iron steed in a thorough and heartfelt manner. Both in flivver and woman was that which fired curious interest. The rear of the car was piled high with boxes and luggage; certain of the boxes were marked "Explosives-Handle With Care!" Prominent among this freight was a burlap sack tied about the neck and firmly roped to one of the top supports of the car.