[Illustration: Little hands caught hold of him and fought with thecurrent. Frontispiece. Page 30]

A DAUGHTER OF THE DONS

_A Story of New Mexico Today_

BY

WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE

AUTHOR OF

WYOMING, BUCKY O'CONNOR, MAVERICKS, A TEXAS RANGER, BRAND BLOTTERS, RIDGWAY OF MONTANA, ETC. 

ILLUSTRATED BY

D. C. HUTCHISON

[Illustration: Colophon. ]

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY

G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY

_A Daughter of the Dons. _

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. DON MANUEL INTRODUCES HIMSELF 5

 II. THE TWO GRANTS 15

 III. FISHERMAN'S LUCK 27

 IV. AT THE YUSTE HACIENDA 42

 V. "AN OPTIMISTIC GUY" 61

 VI. JUANITA 76

 VII. TWO MESSAGES 88

 VIII. TAMING AN OUTLAW 101

 IX. OF DON MANUEL AND MOONLIGHT 111

 X. MR. AINSA DELIVERS A MESSAGE 123

 XI. THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY AND THE TWENTIETH 137

 XII. "I BELIEVE YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HER TOO" 149

 XIII. AMBUSHED 159

 XIV. MANUEL TO THE RESCUE 173

 XV. ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD 193

 XVI. VALENCIA MAKES A PROMISE 201

 XVII. AN OBSTINATE MAN 213

XVIII. MANUEL INTERFERES 230

 XIX. VALENCIA ACCEPTS A RING 240

 XX. DICK LIGHTS A CIGARETTE 246

 XXI. WHEN THE WIRES WERE CUT 259

 XXII. THE ATTACK 269

XXIII. THE TIN BOX 287

 XXIV. DICK GORDON APOLOGIZES 298

 XXV. THE PRINCE CONSORT 307

A DAUGHTER OF THE DONS

CHAPTER I

DON MANUEL INTRODUCES HIMSELF

For hours Manuel Pesquiera had been rolling up the roof of the continentin an observation-car of the "Short Line. "

His train had wound in and out through a maze of bewildering scenery, and was at last dipping down into the basin of the famous gold camp. 

The alert black eyes of the young New Mexican wandered discontentedlyover the raw ugliness of the camp. Towns straggled here and thereuntidily at haphazard, mushroom growths of a day born of a lucky"strike. " Into the valleys and up and down the hillsides ran a networkof rails for trolley and steam cars. Everywhere were the open tunnelmouths or the frame shaft-houses perched above the gray Titan dumpbeards. 

The magic that had wonderfully brought all these manifold activitiesinto being had its talisman in the word "Gold"; but, since Pesquiera hadcome neither as a prospector nor investor, he heard with onlyhalf-concealed impatience the easy gossip of his fellow travelers aboutthe famous ore producers of the district. 

It was not until his inattentive ears caught the name of Dick Gordonthat he found interest in the conversation. 

"Pardon, sir! Are you acquaint' with Mr. Richard Gordon?" he asked, atouch of the gentle Spanish accent in his voice. 

The man to whom he had spoken, a grizzled, weather-beaten little fellowin a corduroy suit and white, broad-brimmed felt hat, turned his steadyblue eyes on his questioner a moment before he answered:

"I ought to know him, seeing as I'm his partner. "

"Then you can tell me where I may find him?"

"Yes, sir, I can do that. See that streak of red there on the hill--theone above the big dump. That's the shafthouse of the Last Dollar. Dropdown it about nine hundred feet and strike an airline west by north forabout a quarter of a mile, and you'd be right close to him. He's downthere, tackling a mighty uncertain proposition. The shaft and theworkings of the Last Dollar are full of water. He's running a crosscutfrom an upraise in the Radley drift, so as to tap the west tunnel of theLast Dollar. "

"It is dangerous, you inform me?"

"Dangerous ain't the word. It's suicide, the way I look at it. See here, my friend. His drill goes through and lets loose about 'steen milliongallons of water. How is he going to get in out of the rain about thattime?"

The New Mexican showed a double row of pearly teeth in a bland smile. 

"Pardon, sir. If you would explain a leetle more fully I would thencomprehend. "

"Sure. Here's the way it is. Dick and his three men are plugging away atthe breast of the drift with air-drills. Every day he gits closeter tothat lake dammed up there. Right now there can't be more'n a few feet ofgranite 'twixt him and it. He don't know how many any more'n a rabbit, because he's going by old maps that ain't any too reliable. The questionis whether the wall will hold till he dynamites it through, or whetherthe weight of water will crumple up that granite and come pouring out ina flood. "

"Your friend, then, is in peril, is it not so?"

"You've said it. He's shooting dice with death. That's the way I size itup. If the wall holds till it's blown up, Dick has got to get back alongthe crosscut, lower himself down the upraise, and travel nearly a milethrough tunnelings before he reaches a shaft to git out. That don'tleave them any too much time at the best. But if the water breaksthrough on them, it's Heaven help Dick, and good-by to this world. "

"Then Mr. Gordon is what you call brave?"

"He's the gamest man that ever walked into this camp. There ain't aninch of him that ain't clear grit through and through. Get into a tightplace, and he's your one best bet to tie to. "

"Mr. Gordon is fortunate in his friend, " bowed the New Mexican politely. 

The little miner looked at him with shining eyes. 

"Nothing like that. Me, I figure the luck's all on my side. Onct youmeet Dick you'll see why we boost for him. Hello, here's where we getoff at. If you're looking for Dick, stranger, you better follow me. I'mgoing right up to the mine. Dick had ought to be coming up from belowany minute now. "

Pesquiera checked his suitcase at the depot newsstand and walked up asteep hill trail with his guide. The miner asked no questions of the NewMexican as to his business with Gordon, nor did the latter volunteer anyinformation. They discussed instead the output of the camp for thepreceding year, comparing it with that of the other famous golddistricts of the world. 

Just as they entered the shafthouse the cage shot to the surface. Fromit stepped two men. 

Several miners crowded toward them with eager greetings, but they movedaside at sight of Pesquiera's companion, who made straight for thosefrom below. 

"What's new, Tregarth?" he asked of one of them, a huge Cornishman. 

"The drill have brook into the Last Dollar tunnel. The watter of un dobe leaking through, Measter Davis. The boss sent us oop while Tom andhim stayed to put the charges in the drill holes to blow oot the wall. He wouldna coom and let me stay. "

Davis thought a moment. 

"I'll go down the shaft and wait at the foot of it. There'll besomething doing soon. Keep your eye peeled for signals, Smith, and whenyou git the bell to raise, shoot her up sudden. If the water's coming, we'll be in a hurry, and don't you forget it. Want to come down with me, Tregarth?"

"I do that, sir. " The man stepped into the cage and grinned. "We'llbring the byes back all right. Bet un we do, lads. "

The cage shot down, and the New Mexican sat on a bench to wait itsreturn. Beside him was a young doctor, who had come prepared for apossible disaster. Such conversation as the men carried on was in lowtones, for all felt the strain of the long minutes. The engineer's eyewas glued to his machinery, his hand constantly on the lever. 

It must have been an hour before the bell rang sharply in the silenceand the lever swept back instantly. A dozen men started to their feetand waited tensely. Next moment there was a wild, exultant cheer. 

For Tregarth had stepped from the cage with a limp figure in his arms, and after him Davis, his arm around the shoulder of a drenched, staggering youth, who had a bleeding cut across his cheek. Through allthe grime that covered the wounded miner the pallor of exhaustion showeditself. 

But beaten and buffeted as the man had plainly been in his fight forlife, the clean, supple strength and the invincible courage of him stillshone in his eye and trod in his bearing. It was even now the salientthing about him, though he had but come, alive and no more, from awrestle with death itself. 

He sank to a bench, and looked around on his friends with shining eyes. 

"'Twas nip and tuck, boys. The water caught us in the tunnel, and Ithought we were gone. It swept us right to the cage, " he panted. 

"She didn't sweep Tom there, boss; ye went back after un, " corrected theCornishman. 

"Anyhow, we made it in the nick o' time. Tom all right, Doctor?"

The doctor looked up from his examination. 

"No bones broken. He seems sound. If there are no internal injuries itwill be a matter of only a day or two in bed. "

"Good. That's the way to talk. You got to make him good as new, Doctor. You ought to have seen the way he stayed by that drill when the waterwas pouring through the cracks in the granite. Have him taken to thehospital, and send the bill to me. "

Tregarth boomed out in a heavy bass:

"What's the matter with the boss? Both of un? They be all right. Bean'tthey, lads?"

It was just after the answering chorus that Pesquiera came forward andbowed magnificently to the young mine operator. The New Mexican's eyeswere blazing with admiration, for he was of Castilian blood andcherished courage as the chief of virtues. 

"I have the honor to salute a hero, _señor_" he cried enthusiastically. "Your deed is of a most fine bravery. I, Manuel Pesquiera, say it. HaveI the right in thinking him of the name of Mr. Richard Gordon?"

Something that was almost disgust filmed the gray eyes of the youngminer. He had the Anglo-Saxon horror of heroics. What he had done wasall in the day's work, and he was the last man in the world to enjoyhaving a fuss made over it. 

"My name is Gordon, " he said quietly. 

The Spaniard bowed again. 

"I have the honor to be your servant to command, Don Manuel Pesquiera. Ibelieve myself to be, sir, a messenger of fortune to you--a Mercury fromthe favoring gods, with news of good import. I, therefore, ask the honorof an audience at your convenience. "

Dick flung the wet hat from his curly head and took a look at the cardwhich the Spaniard had presented him. From it his humorous gaze wentback to the posturing owner of the pasteboard. Suppressing a grin, heanswered with perfect gravity. 

"If you will happen round to the palace about noon to-morrow, _Señor_Pesquiera, you will be admitted to the presence by the court flunkies. When you're inquiring for the whereabouts of the palace, better call itroom 14, Gold Nugget Rooming-House. "

He excused himself and stepped lightly across to his companion in theadventure, who had by this time recovered consciousness. 

"How goes it, Tom? Feel as if you'd been run through a sausage-grinder?"he asked cheerily. 

The man smiled faintly. "I'm all right, boss. The boys tell me you wentback and saved me. "

"Sho! I just grabbed you and slung you in the cage. No trick at all, Tom. Now, don't you worry, boy. Just lie there in the hospital and resteasy. We're settling the bill, and there's a hundred plunks waiting youwhen you get well. "

Tom's hand pressed his feebly. 

"I always knew you were white, boss. "

The doctor laughed as he came forward with a basin of water andbandages. 

"I'm afraid he'll be whiter than he need be if I don't stop thatbleeding. I think we're ready for it now, Mr. Gordon. "

"All right. It's only a scratch, " answered Gordon indifferently. 

Pesquiera, feeling that he was out of the picture, departed in search ofa hotel for the night. He was conscious of a strong admiration for thisfair brown-faced Anglo-Saxon who faced death so lightly for one of hismen. Whatever else he might prove to be, Richard Gordon was a man. 

The New Mexican had an uneasy prescience that his mission was foredoomedto failure and that it might start currents destined to affect potentlythe lives of many in the Rio Chama Valley. 

CHAPTER II

THE TWO GRANTS

The clock in the depot tower registered just twelve, and the noonwhistles were blowing when Pesquiera knocked at apartment 14, of theGold Nugget Rooming-House. 

In answer to an invitation to "Come in, " he entered an apartment whichseemed to be a combination office and living-room. A door opened intowhat the New Mexican assumed to be a sleeping chamber, adjoining whichwas evidently a bath, judging from the sound of splashing water. 

"With you in a minute, " a voice from within assured the guest. 

The splashing ceased. There was the sound of a towel in vigorous motion. This was followed by the rustling of garments as the bather dressed. Inan astonishingly short time the owner of the rooms appeared in thedoorway. 

He was a well-set-up youth, broad of shoulder and compact of muscle. Theruddy bloom that beat through the tanned cheeks and the elasticity ofhis tread hinted at an age not great, but there was no suggestion ofimmaturity in the cool steadiness of the gaze or in the quiet poise ofthe attitude. 

He indicated a chair, after relieving his visitor of hat and cane. Pesquiera glanced at the bandage round the head. 

"I trust, _señor_, your experience of yesterday has not given you awakeful night?"

"Slept like a top. Fact is, I'm just getting up. You heard this morningyet how Tom is?"

"The morning newspaper says he is doing very well indeed. "

"That's good hearing. He's a first-rate boy, and I'd hate to hear worseof him. But I mustn't take your time over our affairs. I think youmentioned business, sir?"

The Castilian leaned forward and fixed his black, piercing eyes on theother. Straight into his business he plunged. 

"Señor Gordon, have you ever heard of the Valdés grant?"

"Not to remember it. What kind of a grant is it?"

"It is a land grant, made by Governor Facundo Megares, of New Mexico, which territory was then a province of Spain, to Don Fernando Valdés, inconsideration of services rendered the Spanish crown against theIndians. "

Dick shook his head. "You've got me, sir. If I ever heard of it thething has plumb slipped my mind. Ought I to know about it?"

"Have you ever heard of the Moreño grant?"

Somewhere in the back of the young man's mind a faint memory stirred. Heseemed to see an old man seated at a table in a big room with a carvedfireplace. The table was littered with papers, and the old gentleman wasexplaining them to a woman. She was his daughter, Dick's mother. A slipof a youngster was playing about the room with two puppies. That littlefive-year-old was the young mine operator. 

"I have, " he answered calmly. 

"You know, then, that a later governor of the territory, Manuel Armijo, illegally carved half a million acres out of the former grant and gaveit to José Moreño, from whom your grandfather bought it. "

The miner's face froze to impassivity. He was learning news. The veryexistence of such a grant was a surprise to him. His grandfather and hismother had been dead fifteen years. Somewhere in an old trunk back inKentucky there was a tin box full of papers that might tell a story. Butfor the present he preferred to assume that he knew what informationthey contained. 

"I object to the word illegal, Don Manuel, " he answered curtly, not atall sure his objection had any foundation of law. 

Pesquiera shrugged. "Very well, _señor_. The courts, I feel sure, willsustain my words. "

"Perhaps, and perhaps not. "

"The law is an expensive arbiter, Señor Gordon. Your claim is slight. The title has never been perfected by you. In fifteen years you havepaid no taxes. Still your claim, though worthless in itself, operates asa cloud upon the title of my client, the Valdés heir. "

Dick looked at him steadily and nodded. He began to see the purpose ofthis visit. He waited silently, his mind very alert. 

"_Señor_, I am here to ask of you a relinquishment. You are brave; nodoubt, chivalrous----"

"I'm a business man, Don Manuel, " interrupted Gordon. "I don't see whatchivalry has got to do with it. "

"Señorita Valdés is a woman, young and beautiful. This little estate isher sole possession. To fight for it in court is a hardship that SeñorGordon will not force upon her. "

"So she's young and beautiful, is she?"

"The fairest daughter of Spain in all New Mexico, " soared Don Manuel. 

"You don't say. A regular case of beauty and the beast, ain't it?"

"As one of her friends, I ask of you not to oppose her lawful possessionof this little vineyard. "

"In the grape business, is she?"

"I speak, _señor_, in metaphor. The land is barren, of no value exceptfor sheep grazing. "

"Are you asking me to sell my title or give it?"

"It is a bagatelle--a mere nothing. The title is but waste paper, I doassure. Yet we would purchase--for a nominal figure--merely to savecourt expenses. "

"I see, " Dick laughed softly. "Just to save court expenses--becauseyou'd rather I'd have the money than the lawyers. That's right good ofyou. "

Pesquiera talked with his hands and shoulders, sparkling into animation. "Mr. Gordon distrusts me. So? Am I not right? He perhaps mistakes me forwhat you call a--a pettifogger, is it not? I do assure to the contrary. The blood of the Pesquieras is of the bluest Castilian. "

"Fine! I'll take your word for it, Don Manuel. And I don't distrust youat all. But here's the point. I'm a plain American business man. I don'tbuy and I don't sell without first investigating a proposition submittedto me. I'm from Missouri. "

"Oh, indeed! From St. Louis perhaps. I went to school there when I was aboy. "

Gordon laughed. "I was speaking in metaphor, Don Manuel. What I mean isthat I'll have to be shown. No pig-in-a-poke business for me. "

"Exactly. Most precisely. Have I not traveled from New Mexico up thissteep roof of the continent merely to explain how matters stand?Valencia Valdés is the true and rightful heiress of the valley. She iseverywhere so recognize' and accept' by the peons. "

The miner's indolent eye rested casually upon his guest. "Married?"

"I have not that felicitation, " replied the Spaniard. 

"It was the lady I meant. "

"Pardon. No man has yet been so fortunate to win the _señorita_"

"I reckon it's not for want of trying, since the heiress is sobeautiful. There's always plenty of willing lads to take over the job ofprince regent under such circumstances. "

The spine of the New Mexican stiffened ever so slightly. "SeñoritaValdés is princess of the Rio Chama valley. Her dependents understan'she is of a differen' caste, a descendant of the great and renowned DonAlvaro of Castile. "

"Don't think I know the gentleman. Who was he?" asked Gordon genially, offering his guest a cigar. 

Pesquiera threw up his neat little hands in despair. "But of a certaintyMr. Gordon has read of Don Alvaro de Valdés y Castillo, lord of demesneswithout number, conqueror of the Moors and of the fierce island Englishwho then infested Spain in swarms. His retinue was as that of a king. Athis many manors fed daily thirty thousand men at arms. In all Europe noknight so brave, so chivalrous, so skillful with lance and sword. To thenobles his word was law. Young men worshiped him, the old admired, thepoor blessed. The queen, it is said, love' him madly. She was ofexceeding beauty, but Don Alvaro remember his vows of knighthood andturn his back upon madness. Then the king, jealous for that his greatnoble was better, braver and more popular than he, send for de Valdés tocome to court. "

"I reckon Don Alvaro ought to have been sick a-bed that day and unableto make the journey, " suggested Dick. 

"So say his wife and his men, but Don Alvaro scorn to believe his king atraitor. He kiss his wife and babies good-bye, ride into the trapprepare' for him, and die like a soldier. God rest his valiant soul. "

"Some man. I'd like to have met him, " Gordon commented. 

"Señorita Valencia is of the same blood, of the same fine courage. She, too, is the idol of her people. Will Mr. Gordon, who is himself of thebrave heart, make trouble for an unprotected child without father ormother?"

"Unprotected isn't quite the word so long as Don Manuel Pesquiera is herfriend, " the Coloradoan answered with a smile. 

The dark young man flushed, but his eyes met those of Dick steadily. "You are right, sir. I stand between her and trouble if I can. "

"Good. Glad you do. "

"So I make you an offer. I ask you to relinquish your shadowy claim tothe illegal Moreño grant. "

"Well, I can't tell you offhand just what I'll do, Don Manuel. Make yourproposition to me in writing, and one month from to-day I'll let youknow whether it's yes or no. "

"But the _señorita_ wants to make improvements--to build, to fence. Delay is a hardship. Let us say a thousand dollars and make an end. "

"Not if the court knows itself. You say she's young. A month's waitwon't hurt her any. I want to look into it. Maybe you're offering me toomuch. A fifth of a cent an acre is a mighty high price for land. I don'twant any fairest daughter of Spain to rob herself for me, you know, " hegrinned. 

"I exceed my instructions. I offer two thousand, Mr. Gordon. "

"If you said two hundred thousand, I'd still say no till I had looked itup. I'm not doing business to-day at any price, thank you. "

"You are perhaps of an impression that this land is valuable. On thecontrary, I offer an assurance. And our need of your shadowy claim----"

"I ain't burdened with impressions, except one, that I don't care todispose of my ghost-title. We'll talk business a month from to-day, ifyou like. No sooner. Have a smoke, Don Manuel?"

Pesquiera declined the proffered cigar with an impatient gesture. Herose, reclaimed his hat and cane, and clicked his heels together in astiff bow. 

He was a slight, dark, graceful man, with small, neat hands and feet, trimly gloved and shod. He had a small black mustache pointing upward inparallels to his smooth, olive cheeks. The effect was almost foppish, but the fire in the snapping eyes contradicted any suggestion ofeffeminacy. His gaze yielded nothing even to the searching one ofGordon. 

"It is, then, war between us, Señor Gordon?" he asked haughtily. 

Dick laughed. 

"Sho! It's just business. Maybe I'll take your offer. Maybe I won't. Imight want to run down and look at the no-'count land, " he said with alaugh. 

"I think it fair to inform you, sir, that the feeling of the countrydown there is in favor of the Valdés grant. The peons are hot-tempered, and are likely to resent any attempt to change the existing conditions. Your presence, _señor_, would be a danger. "

"Much obliged, Don Manuel. Tell 'em from me that I got a bad habit ofwearing a six-gun, and that if they get to resenting too arduous it'slikely to ventilate their enthusiasm. "

Once more the New Mexican bowed stiffly before he retired. 

Pesquiera had overplayed his hand. He had stirred in the miner aninterest born of curiosity and a sense of romantic possibilities. Dickwanted to see this daughter of Castile who was still to thesimple-hearted shepherds of the valley a princess of the blood royal. Don Manuel was very evidently her lover. Perhaps it was his imaginationthat had mixed the magic potion that lent an atmosphere of old-worldpastoral charm to the story of the Valdés grant. Likely enough the girlwould prove commonplace in a proud half-educated fashion that would beintolerable for a stranger. 

But even without the help of the New Mexican the situation was one whichcalled for a thorough personal investigation. Gordon was a hard-headedAmerican business man, though he held within him the generous andhare-brained potentialities of a soldier of fortune. He meant to findout just what the Moreño grant was worth. After he had investigated hislegal standing he would look over the valley of the Chama himself. Hetook no stock in Don Manuel's assurance that the land was worthless, anymore than he gave weight to his warning that a personal visit to thescene would be dangerous if the settlers believed he came to interferewith their rights. For many turbulent years Dick Gordon had held his ownin a frontier community where untamed enemies had passed him daily withhate in their hearts. He was not going to let the sulky resentment of afew shepherds interfere with his course now. 

A message flashed back to a little town in Kentucky that afternoon. Itwas of the regulation ten-words length, and this was the body of it:

Send immediately, by express, little brown leather trunk in garret. 

The signature at the bottom of it was "Richard Gordon. "

CHAPTER III

FISHERMAN'S LUCK

A fisherman was whipping the stream of the Rio Chama. 

In his creel were a dozen trout, for the speckled beauties had beenrising to the fly that skipped across the top of the riffles asnaturally as life. He wore waders, gray flannel shirt, and khaki coat. As he worked up the stream he was oftener in its swirling waters than onthe shore. But just now the fish were no longer striking. 

"Time to grub, anyhow. I'll give them a rest for a while. They'll likelybe on the job again soon, " he told himself as he waded ashore. 

A draw here ran down to the river, and its sunny hillside tempted him toeat his lunch farther up. 

Into the little basin in which he found himself the sun had pouredshafts of glory to make a very paradise of color. Down by the riversidethe willows were hesitating between green and bronze. Russet and brownand red peppered the slopes, but shades of yellow predominated in thegulch itself. 

The angler ate his sandwiches leisurely, and stretched his lithe bodyluxuriantly on the ground for a _siesta_. When he resumed his occupationthe sun had considerably declined from the meridian. The fish were againbiting, and he landed two in as many minutes. 

The bed of the river had been growing steeper, and at the upper entranceof the little park he came to the first waterfall he had seen. Abovethis, on the opposite side, was a hole that looked inviting. He decidedthat a dead tree lying across the river would, at a pinch, serve for abridge, and he ventured upon it. Beneath his feet the rotting bark gaveway. He found himself falling, tried desperately to balance himself, andplunged head first into the river. 

Coming to the surface, he caught at a rock which jutted from thechannel. At this point the water was deep and the current swift. Were heto let loose of the boulder he must be swept over the fall before hecould reach the shore. Nor could he long maintain his position againstthe rush of the ice-cold waters fresh from the mountain snow fields. 

He had almost made up his mind to take his chances with the fall, when aclear cry came ringing to him:

"_No suelte!_"

A figure was flying down the slope toward him--the slim, graceful formof a woman. As she ran she caught up a stick from the ground. This sheheld out to him from the bank. 

He shook his head. 

"I would only drag you in. "

She put her fingers to her mouth and gave a clear whistle. Far up on theslope a pony lifted its head and nickered. Again her whistle shrilled, and the bronco trotted down toward her. 

"Can you hold on?" she asked in English. 

He was chilled to the marrow, but he answered quietly: "I reckon. "

She was gone, swift-footed as a deer, to meet the descending animal. Hesaw her swing to the saddle and lean over it as the pace quickened to agallop. 

He did not know her fingers were busy preparing the rawhide lariat thatdepended from the side of the saddle. On the very bank she brought upwith a jerk that dragged her mount together, and at the same momentslipped to the ground. 

Running open the noose of the lariat, she dropped it surely over hisshoulders. The other end of the rope was fastened to the saddle-horn, and the cow-pony, used to roping and throwing steers, braced itself withwide-planted front feet for the shock. 

"Can you get your arm through the loop?" cried the girl. 

His arms were like lead, and almost powerless. With one hand he knew hecould not hang on. Nor did he try longer than for that one desperateinstant when he shot his fist through the loop. The wall of water swepthim away, but the taut rope swung him shoreward. 

Little hands caught hold of him and fought with the strong current forthe body of the almost unconscious man; fought steadily and strongly, for there was strength in the small wrists and compact muscle in theshapely arms. She was waist deep in the water before she won, for fromabove she could find no purchase for the lift. 

The fisherman's opening eyes looked into dark anxious ones that gazed athim from beneath the longest lashes he had ever seen. He had an oddsense of being tangled up in them and being unable to escape, of beingboth abashed and happy in his imprisonment. What he thought was: "Theydon't have eyes like those out of heaven. " What he said was entirelydifferent. 

"Near thing. Hadn't been for you I wouldn't have made it. "

At his words she rose from her knees to her full height, and he saw thatshe was slenderly tall and fashioned of gracious curves. The darkness ofher clear skin was emphasized by the mass of blue-black hair from whichlittle ears peeped with exquisite daintiness. The mouth was sweet andcandid, red-lipped, with perfect teeth just showing in the full arch. The straight nose, with its sensitive nostrils, proclaimed her purepatrician. 

"You are wet, " he cried. "You went in after me. "

She looked down at her dripping skirts, and laughter rippled over herface like the wind in golden grain. It brought out two adorable dimplesnear the tucked-in corners of her mouth. 

"I am damp, " she conceded. 

"Why did you do it? The water might have swept you away, " he chided, coming to a sitting posture. 

"And if I hadn't it might have swept you away, " she answered, with aflash of her ivory teeth. 

He rose and stood before her. 

"You risked your life to save mine. "

"Is it not worth it, sir?"

"That ain't for me to say. The point is, you took the chance. "

Her laughter bubbled again. "You mean, I took the bath. "

"I expect you'll have to listen to what I've got to say, ma'am. "

"Are you going to scold me? Was I precipitate? Perhaps you wereattempting suicide. Forgive, I pray. "

He ignored her raillery, and told her what he thought of a courage sofine and ready. He permitted a smile to temper his praise, as he added:"You mustn't go jumping in the river after strangers if you don't wantthem to say, 'Thank you kindly. ' You find four out of five of them wantto, don't you?"

"It is not yet a habit of mine. You're the first"

"I hope I'll be the last. "

She began to wring out the bottom of her skirt, and he was on his kneesat once to do it for her. 

"That will do very nicely, " she presently said, the color billowing hercheeks. 

He gathered wood and lit a fire, being fortunate enough to find hismatch-case had been waterproof. He piled on dry branches till the fireroared and licked out for the moisture in their clothes. 

"I've been wondering how you happened to see me in the water, " he said. "You were riding past, I expect?"

"No, I was sketching. I saw you when you came up to eat your lunch, andI watched you go back to the river. "

"Do you live near here, then?" he asked. 

"About three miles away. "

"And you were watching me all the time?" He put his statement as aquestion. 

"No, I wasn't, " the young woman answered indignantly. "You happened tobe in the landscape. "

"A blot in it, " he suggested. "A hop-toad splashing in the puddle. "

The every-ready dimples flashed out at this. "You did make quite asplash when you went in. The fish must have thought it was a whale. "

"And when I told you the water was fine, and you came in, too, theyprobably took you for a naiad. "

She thanked him with an informal little nod. 

"I thought you Anglo-Saxons did not give compliments. "

"I don't, " he immediately answered. 

"Oh! If that isn't another one, I'm mistaken, sir. " She turnedindifferently away, apparently of the opinion that she had been quitefriendly enough to this self-possessed young stranger. 

Rewinding the lariat, she fastened it to the saddle, then swung to theseat before he could step forward to aid her. 

"I hope you will suffer no bad effects from your bath, " he said. 

"I shall not; but I'm afraid you will. You were in long enough to getthoroughly chilled. _Adios, señor_. "

He called to her before the pony had taken a dozen steps:

"Your handkerchief, _señorita_!"

She turned in the saddle and waited for him to bring it. He did so, andshe noticed that he limped badly. 

"You have hurt yourself, " she said quickly. 

"I must have jammed my knee against a rock, " he explained. "Nothingserious. "

"But it pains?"

"Just enough to let me know it's there. "

Frowning, she watched him. 

"Is it a bruise or a sprain?"

"A wrench, I think. It will be all right if I favor it"

"Favor it? Except the ranch, there is no place nearer than seven miles. You are staying at Corbett's, I presume?"

"Yes. "

"You can't walk back there to-night. That is certain. " She slipped fromthe saddle. "You'll have to go back to the ranch with me, sir. I canwalk very well. "

He felt a wave of color sweep his face. 

"I couldn't take the horse and let you walk. "

"That is nonsense, sir. You can, and you shall. "

"If I am to take your horse I need not saddle myself upon yourhospitality. I can ride back to Corbett's, and send the horse hometo-morrow. "

"It is seven miles to Miguel's, and Corbett's is three beyond that. Nodoctor would advise that long ride before your knee receives attention, I think, sir, you will have to put up with the ranch till to-morrow. "

"You ain't taking my intention right. All I meant was that I didn't liketo unload myself on your folks; but if you say I'm to do it I'll be veryhappy to be your guest. " He said it with a touch of boyish embarrassmentshe found becoming. 

"We'll stop at the top of the hill and take on my drawing things, " shetold him. 

He need have had no fears for her as a walker, for she was of the electfew born to grace of motion. Slight she was, yet strong; the delicacythat breathed from her was of the spirit, and consisted with perfecthealth. No Grecian nymph could have trod with lighter or surer step norhave unconsciously offered to the eye more supple and beautiful lines oflimb and body. 

Never had the young man seen before anybody whose charm went sopoignantly to the root of his emotions. Every turn of the head, the setof the chin, the droop of the long, thick lashes on the soft cheek, thefling of a gesture, the cadence of her voice; they all delighted andfascinated him. She was a living embodiment of joy-in-life, of lovepersonified. 

She packed her sketches and her paraphernalia with businesslikedirectness, careless of whether he did or did not see her water-colors. A movement of his hand stayed her as she took from, the easel the oneupon which she had been engaged. 

It represented the sun-drenched slope below them, with the little gulchdressed riotously in its gala best of yellows. 

"You've got that fine, " he told her enthusiastically. 

She shook her head, unmoved by praise which did not approve itself toher judgment as merited. 

"No, I didn't get it at all. A great artist might get the wonder of it;but I can't. "

"It looks good to me, " he said. 

"Then I'm afraid you're not a judge, " she smiled. 

From where they stood a trail wound along the ridge and down into avalley beyond. At the farther edge of this, nestling close to the hillsthat took root there, lay the houses of a ranch. 

"That is where I live, " she told him. 

He thought it a lovely spot, almost worthy of her, but obviously hecould not tell her so. Instead, he voiced an alien thought that happenedto intrude:

"Do you know Señorita Valdés? But of course you must. "

She flung a quick glance at him, questioning. 

"Yes, I know her. "

"She lives somewhere round here, too, does she not?"

Her arm swept round in a comprehensive gesture. "Over that way, too. "

"Do you know her well?"

An odd smile dimpled her face. 

"Sometimes I think I do, and then again I wonder. "

"I have been told she is beautiful. "

"Beauty is in the beholder's eyes, _señor_. Valencia Valdés is as Heavenmade her. "

"I have no doubt; but Heaven took more pains with some of us thanothers--it appears. "

Again the dark eyes under the long lashes swept him from the curly headto the lean, muscular hands, and approved silently the truth of hisobservation. The clean lithe build of the man, muscles packed so thatthey rippled smoothly like those of a panther, appealed to her trainedeyes. So, too, did the quiet, steady eyes in the bronzed face, holdingas they did the look of competent alertness that had come from years offrontier life. 

"You are interested in Miss Valdés?" she asked politely. 

"In a way of speaking, I am. She is one of the reasons why I came here. "

"Indeed! She would no doubt be charmed to know of your interest, " stillwith polite detachment. 

"My interest ain't exactly personal; then again it is, " he contributed. 

"A sort of an impersonal personal interest?"

"Yes; though I don't quite know what that means. "

"Then I can't be expected to, " she laughed. 

His laughter joined hers; but presently he recurred to his question:

"You haven't told me yet about Miss Valdés. Is she as lovely as they sayshe is?"

"I don't know just how lovely they say she is. Sometimes I have thoughther very passable; then again--" She broke off with a defiant littlelaugh. "Don't you know, sir, that you mustn't ask one lady to praise thebeauty of another?"

"I suppose I may ask questions?" he said, much amused. 

"It depends a little on the questions. "

"Is she tall?"

"Rather. About as tall as I am. "

"And dark, of course, since she is a Spanish _señorita_"

"Yes, she is dark. "

"Slim and graceful, I expect?"

"She is slender. "

"I reckon she banks a heap on that blue blood of hers?"

"Yes; she is prouder of it than there is really any need of, though Ithink probably her pride is unconscious and a matter of habit. "

"I haven't been able to make out yet whether you like her, " he laughed. 

"I don't see what my liking has to do with it. "

"I expect to meet her, and I want to use your judgment to base mine on. "

"Oh, you expect to meet her?"

She said it lightly, yet with a certain emphasis that he noted. 

"Don't you think she will let me? Do I have to show blue blood before Ican be presented? One of my ancestors came over on the _Mayflower_. Willthat do?"

Her raillery met his. 

"That ought to do, I should think. I suppose you have broughtgenealogical proofs with you?"

"I clean forgot. Won't you please get on and ride now? I feel like afalse alarm, playing the invalid on you, ma'am. "

"No; I'll walk. We're almost at the ranch. It's just under this hill. But there's one thing I want to ask of you as a favor. "

"It's yours, " he replied briefly. 

She seemed to struggle with some emotion before she spoke:

"Please don't mention Valencia Valdés while you are at the ranch. I--Ihave reasons, sir. "

"Certainly; I'll do as you prefer. "

To himself he thought that there was probably a feud of some kindbetween the two families that might make a mention of the nameunpleasant. "And that reminds me that I don't know what your name is. Mine is Muir--Richard Muir. "

"And mine is Maria Yuste. "

He offered her his brown hand. "I'm right happy to meet you, SeñoritaMaria. "

"Welcome to the Yuste _hacienda, señor_. What is ours is yours, so longas you are our guest. I pray you make yourself at home, " she said asthey rode into the courtyard. 

Two Mexican lads came running forward; and one whom she called Pedrotook the horse, while the other went into the house to attend to a quickcommand she gave in Spanish. 

The man who had named himself Richard Muir followed his hostess througha hall, across an open court, and into a living-room carpeted withNavajo rugs, at the end of which was a great open fireplace bearing aSpanish motto across it. 

Large windows, set three feet deep in the thick adobe walls, were filledwith flowers or padded with sofa pillows for seats. One of these hishostess indicated to the limping man. 

"If you will be seated here for the present, sir, your room will beready very soon. "

A few minutes later the fisherman found himself in a large bedroom. Hewas seated in an easy-chair before a crackling fire of _piñon_ knots. 

A messenger had been dispatched for a doctor, Señorita Yuste had toldhim, and in the meantime he was to make himself quite at home. 

CHAPTER IV

AT THE YUSTE HACIENDA

The wrench to the fisherman's knee proved more serious than he hadanticipated. The doctor pronounced it out of the question that he shouldbe moved for some days at least. 

The victim was more than content, because he was very much interested inthe young woman who had been his rescuer, and because it gave him achance to observe at first hand the remains of the semifeudal systemthat had once obtained in New Mexico and California. 

It was easy for him to see that Señorita Maria Yuste was stillconsidered by her dependents as a superior being, one far removed fromthem by the divinity of caste that hedged her in. They gave her service;and she, on her part, looked out for their needs, and was the patronsaint to whom they brought all their troubles. 

It was an indolent, happy life the peons on the estate led, patriarchalin its nature, and far removed from the throb of the money-mad world. They had enough to eat and to wear. There was a roof over their heads. There were girls to be loved, dances to be danced, and guitars to bestrummed. Wherefore, then, should the young men feel the spur of anambition to take the world by the throat and wring success from it?

It had been more years than he could remember since this young Americanhad taken a real holiday except for an occasional fishing trip on theGunnison or into Wyoming. He had lived a life of activity. Now for thefirst time he learned how to be lazy. To dawdle indolently on one of thebroad porches, while Miss Yuste sat beside him and busied herself oversome needlework, was a sensuous delight that filled him with content. Hefelt that he would like to bask there in the warm sunshine forever. After all, why should he pursue wealth and success when love andlaughter waited for him in this peaceful valley chosen of the gods?

The fourth morning of his arrival he hobbled out to the south porchafter breakfast, to find his hostess in corduroy skirt, high lacedboots, and pinched-in sombrero. She was drawing on a pair of drivinggauntlets. One of the stable boys was standing beside a rig he had justdriven to the house. 

The young woman flung a flashing smile at her guest. 

"Good day, Señor Muir. I hope you had a good night's rest, and that yourknee did not greatly pain you?"

"I feel like a colt in the pasture--fit for anything. But the doctorwon't have it that way. He says I'm an invalid, " returned the young manwhimsically. 

"The doctor ought to know, " she laughed. 

"I expect it won't do me any harm to lie still for a day or two. WeAmericans all have the git-up-and-dust habit. We got to keep going, though Heaven knows what we're going for sometimes. "

Though he did not know it, her interest in him was considerable, thoughcertainly critical. He was a type outside of her experience, and, by thelaw of opposites, attracted her. Every line of him showed tremendousdriving power, force, energy. He was not without some touch of Westernswagger; but it went well with the air of youth to which his boyishlaugh and wavy, sun-reddened hair contributed. 

The men of her station that she knew were of one pattern, indolent, well-bred aristocrats, despisers of trade and of those who indulged init more than was necessary to live. But her mother had been an Americangirl, and there was in her blood a strong impulse toward the greatnation of which her father's people were not yet in spirit entirely apart. 

"I have to drive to Antelope Springs this morning. It is not a roughtrip at all. If you would care to see the country----"

She paused, a question in her face. Her guest jumped at the chance. 

"There is nothing I should like better. If you are sure it will be noinconvenience. "

"I am sure I should not have asked you if I had not wanted you, " shesaid; and he took it as a reproof. 

She drove a pair of grays that took the road with the spirit of racers. The young woman sat erect and handled the reins masterfully, the whileMuir leaned back and admired the steadiness of the slim, strong wrists, the businesslike directness with which she gave herself to her work, theglow of life whipped into her eyes and cheeks by the exhilaration of thepace. 

"I suppose you know all about these old land-grants that were made whenNew Mexico was a Spanish colony and later when it was a part of Mexico, "he suggested. 

Her dark eyes rested gravely on him an instant before she answered:"Most of us that were brought up on them know something of the facts. "

"You are familiar with the Valdés grant?"

"Yes. "

"And with the Moreño grant, made by Governor Armijo?"

"Yes. "

"The claims conflict, do they not?"

"The Moreño grant is taken right from the heart of the Valdés grant. Itincludes all the springs, the valleys, the irrigable land; takes ineverything but the hilly pasture land in the mountains, which, initself, is valueless. "

"The land included in this grant is of great value?"

"It pastures at the present time fifty thousand sheep and about twelvethousand head of cattle. "

"Owned by Miss Valdés?"

"Owned by her and her tenants. "

"She's what you call a cattle queen, then. Literally, the cattle on athousand hills are hers. "

"As they were her father's and her grandfather's before her, to be heldin trust for the benefit of about eight hundred tenants, " she answeredquietly. 

"Tell me more about it. The original grantee was Don Bartolomé deValdés, was he not?"

"Yes. He was the great-great-grandson of Don Alvaro de Valdés yCastillo, who lost his head because he was a braver and a better manthan the king. Don Bartolomé, too, was a great soldier and ruler. He wasgenerous and public-spirited to a fault; and when the people of thisprovince suffered from Indian raids he distributed thousands of sheep torelieve their distress. "

"Bully for the old boy. He was a real philanthropist. "

"Not at all. He _had_ to do it. His position required it of him. "

"That was it, eh?"

Her dusky eyes questioned him. 

"You couldn't understand, I suppose, since you are an American, how hewas the father and friend of all the people in these parts; how histroopers and _vaqueros_ were a defense to the whole province?"

"I think I can understand that. "

"So it was, even to his death, that he looked out for the poor peonsdependent upon him. His herds grew mighty; and he asked of FacundoMegares, governor of the royal province, a grant of land upon which topasture them. These herds were for his people; but they were in his nameand belonged to him. Why should he not have been given land for them, since his was the sword that had won the land against the Apaches?"

"You ain't heard me say he shouldn't have had it"

"So the _alcalde_ executed the act of possession for a tract, to bebounded on the south by Crow Spring, following its cordillera to the Ojodel Chico, east to the Pedornal range, north to the Ojo del Cibolo--Buffalo Springs--and west to the great divide. It was a princelyestate, greater than the State of Delaware; and Don Bartolomé held itfor the King of Spain, and ruled over it with powers of life and death, but always wisely and generously, like the great-hearted gentleman hewas. "

"Bully for him. "

"And at his death his son ruled in his stead; and _his_ only son died inthe Spanish-American War, as a lieutenant of volunteers in the UnitedStates Army. He was shot before Santiago. "

The voice died away in her tremulous throat; and he wondered if it couldbe possible that this girl had been betrothed to the young soldier. Butpresently she spoke again, cheerfully and lightly:

"Wherefore, it happens that there remains only a daughter of the houseof Valdés to carry the burden that should have been her brother's, tolook out for his people, and to protect them both against themselves andothers. She may fail; but, if I know her, the failure will not bebecause she has not tried. "

"Good for her. I'd like to shake her aristocratic little paw and tellher to buck in and win. "

"She would no doubt be grateful for your sympathy, " the young womananswered, flinging a queer little look of irony at him. 

"But what's the hitch about the Valdés grant? Why is there a doubt ofits legality?"

She smiled gaily at him. 

"No person who desires to remain healthy has any doubts in thisneighborhood. We are all partizans of Valencia Valdés; and many of hertenants are such warm followers that they would not think twice aboutshedding blood in defense of her title. You must remember that they holdthrough her right. If she were dispossessed so would they be. "

"Is that a threat? I mean, would it be if I were a claimant?" he asked, meeting her smile pleasantly. 

"Oh, no. Miss Valdés would regret any trouble, and so should I. " Ashadow crossed her face as she spoke. "But she could not prevent herfriends from violence, I am afraid. You see, she is only a girl, afterall. They would move without her knowledge. I know they would. "

"How would they move? Would it be a knife in the dark?"

His gray eyes, which had been warm as summer sunshine on a hill, werenow fixed on her with chill inscrutability. 

"I don't know. It might be that. Very likely. " He saw the pulse in herthroat beating fast as she hesitated before she plunged on. "A warningis not a threat. If you know this Señor Gordon, tell him to sellwhatever claim he has. Tell him, at least, to fight from a distance; notto come to this valley himself. Else his life would be at hazard. "

"If he is a man that will not keep him away. He will fight for what ishis all the more because there is danger. What's more, he'll do hisfighting on the ground--unless he's a quitter. "

She sighed. 

"I was afraid so. "

"But you have not told me yet the alleged defect in the Valdés claim. There must be some point of law upon which the thing hangs. "

"It is claimed that Don Bartolomé did not take up his actual residenceon the grant, as the law required. Then, too, he himself was latergovernor of the province, and while he was president of the Ayuntamientoat Tome he officially indorsed some small grants of land made from thisestate. He did this because he wanted the country developed, and waswilling to give part of what he had to his neighbors; but I suppose thecontestant will claim this showed he had abandoned his grant. "

"I see. Title not perfected, " he summed up briefly. 

"We deny it, of course--I mean, Miss Valdés does. She shows that in hiswill the old _don_ mentions it, and that her father lived there withoutinterruption, even though Manuel Armijo later granted the best of it toJosé Moreño. "

"It would be pretty tough for her to be fired out now. I reckon she'sattached to the place, her and her folks having lived there so long, "the young man mused aloud. 

"Her whole life is wrapped up in it. It is the home of her people. Shebelongs to it, and it to her, " the girl answered. 

"Mebbe this Gordon is a white man. I reckon he wouldn't drive her out. Like as not he'd fix up a compromise. There's enough for both. "

She shook her head decisively. 

"No. It would have to be a money settlement. Miss Valdés's people aresettled all over the estate. Some of them have bought small ranches. Yousee, she couldn't--throw them down--as you Americans say. "

"That's right, " he agreed. "Well, I shouldn't wonder but it can be fixedup some way. "

They had been driving across a flat cactus country, and for some timehad been approaching the grove of willows into which she now turned. Some wooden barns, a corral, an adobe house, and outhouses marked theplace as one of the more ambitious ranches of the valley. 

An old Mexican came forward with a face wreathed in smiles. 

_"Buenos, _ Doña Maria, " he cried, in greeting. 

"_Buenos, _ Antonio. This gentleman is Mr. Richard Muir. "

"_Buenos, señor_. A friend of Doña Maria is a friend of Antonio. "

"The older people call me '_doña, _'" the girl explained. "I suppose theythink it strange a girl should have to do with affairs, and so theythink of me as '_doña, _' instead of '_señorita, _' to satisfythemselves. "

A vague suspicion, that had been born in the young man's mindimmediately after his rescue from the river now recurred. 

His first thought then had been that this young woman must be ValenciaValdés; but he had dismissed it when he had seen the initial M on herkerchief, and when she had subsequently left him to infer that such wasnot the case. 

He remembered now in what respect she was held in the home _hacienda_;how everybody they had met had greeted her with almost reverence. It wasnot likely that two young heiresses, both of them beautiful orphans, should be living within a few miles of each other. 

Besides, he remembered that this very Antelope Springs was mentioned inthe deed of conveyance which he had lately examined before leaving themining camp. She was giving orders about irrigating ditches as if shewere owner. 

It followed then that she must be Valencia Valdés. There could be nodoubt of it. 

He watched her as she talked to old Antonio and gave the necessarydirections. How radiant and happy she was in this life which had fallento her; by inheritance! He vowed she should not be disinherited throughany action of his. He owed her his life. At least, he could spare herthis blow. 

They drove home more silently than they had come. He was thinking overthe best way to do what he was going to do. The evening before they hadsat together in front of the fire in the living-room, while her oldduenna had nodded in a big arm-chair. So they would sit to-night andto-morrow night. 

He would send at once for the papers upon which his claim depended, andhe would burn them before her eyes. After that they would befriends--and, in the end, much more than friends. 

He was still dreaming his air-castle, when they drove through the gatethat led to her home. In front of the porch a saddled bronco trailed itsrein, and near by stood a young man in riding-breeches and spurs. Heturned at the sound of wheels; and the man in the buggy saw that it wasManuel Pesquiera. 

The Spaniard started when he recognized the other, and his eyes grewbright. He moved forward to assist the young woman in alighting; but, inspite of his bad knee, the Coloradoan was out of the rig and before him. 

"_Buenos, amigo_" she nodded to Don Manuel, lightly releasing the handof Muir. 

"_Buenos, señorita_" returned that young man. "I behold you are alreadyacquaint' with Mr. Richard Gordon, whose arrival is to me veryunexpect'. "

She seemed to grow tall before her guest's eyes; to stand in a kind ofproud splendor that had eclipsed her girlish slimness. The dark eyesunder the thick lashes looked long and searchingly at him. 

"Mr. Richard Gordon? I understand this gentleman's name to be Muir, " shemade voice gently. 

Dick laughed with a touch of shame. Now once in his life he wished hecould prove an alibi. For, under the calm judgment of that steady gaze, the thing he had done seemed scarce defensible. 

"Don Manuel has it right, _señorita_. Gordon is my name; Muir, too, forthat matter. Richard Muir Gordon is what I was christened. "

The underlying red of her cheeks had fled and left them clear olive. Onemight have thought the scornful eyes had absorbed all the fire of herface. 

"So you have lied to me, sir?"

"Let me lay the facts before you, first. That's a hard word, _señorita_. "

"You gave your name to me as Muir, You imposed yourself on myhospitality under false pretenses. You are only a spy, come to my houseto mole for evidence against me. "

"No--no!" he cried sharply. "You will remember that I did not want tocome. I foresaw that it might be awkward, but I did not foresee this. "

"That you would be found out before you had won your end? I believe you, sir, " she retorted contemptuously. 

"I see I'm condemned before I'm heard. "

"Will any explanation alter the facts? Are you not a liar and a cheat?You gave me a false name to spy out the land. "

"Am I the only one that gave a wrong name?" he asked. 

"That is different, " she flamed. "You had made a mistake and, half insport, I encouraged you in it. But you seem to have found out my realname since. Yet you still accepted what I had to offer, under a falsename, under false pretenses. You questioned me about the grants. Youhave lived a lie from first to last. "

"It ain't as bad as you say, ma'am. Don Manuel had told me it wasn'tsafe to come here in my own name. I didn't care about the safety, but Iwanted to see the situation exactly as it was. I didn't know who youwere when I came here. I took you to be Miss Maria Yuste. I----"

"My name is Maria Yuste Valencia Valdés, " the young woman explainedproudly. "When, may I ask, did you discover who I was?"

"I guessed it at Antelope Springs. "

"Then why did you not tell me then who you are? Surely that was the timeto tell me. My deception did you no harm; yours was one no man of honorcould have endured after he knew who I was. "

"I didn't aim to keep it up very long. I meant, in a day or two----"

"A day or two, " she cried, in a blaze of scorn. "After you had found outall I had to tell; after you had got evidence to back your robber-claim;after you had made me breathe the same air so long with a spy?"

Her face was very white; but she faced him in her erect slimness, withher dark eyes fixed steadily on him. 

"You ain't quite fair to me; but let that pass for the present. When Iasked you about the grants didn't you guess who I was? Play square withme. Didn't you have a notion?"

A flood of spreading color swept back into her face. 

"No, I didn't. I thought perhaps you were an agent of the claimant; butI didn't know you were passing under a false name, that you were awarein whose house you were staying. I thought you an honest man, on thewrong side--nothing so contemptible as a spy. "

"That idea's fixed in your mind, is it?" he asked quietly. 

"Beyond any power of yours to remove it, " she flashed back. 

"The facts, Señor Gordon, speak loud, " put in Pesquiera derisively. 

Dick Gordon paid not the least attention to him. His gaze was fastenedon the girl whose contempt was lashing him. 

"Very well, Miss Valdés. Well let it go at that just now. All I've gotto say is that some day you'll hate yourself for what you have justsaid. "

Neither of them had raised their voices from first to last. Hers hadbeen low and intense, pulsing with the passion that would out. His hadheld its even way. 

"I hate myself now, that I have had you here so long, that I have beenthe dupe of a common cheat. "

"All right. 'Nough said, ma'am. More would certainly be surplusage. I'llnot trouble you any longer now. But I want you to remember that there'sa day coming when you'll travel a long way to take back all of whatyou've just been saying. I want to thank you for all your kindness tome. I'm always at your service for what you did for me. Good-bye, MissValdés, for the present. "

"I am of impression, sir, that you go not too soon, " said Pesquierasuavely. 

Miss Valdés turned on her heel and swept up the steps of the porch; butshe stopped an instant before she entered the house to say over hershoulder:

"A buggy will be at your disposal to take you to Corbett's. If it isconvenient, I should like to have you go to-night. "

He smiled ironically. 

"I'll not trouble you for the buggy, _señorita_. If I'm all you say Iam, likely I'm a horse thief, too. Anyhow, we won't risk it. Walking'sgood enough for me. "

"Just as you please, " she choked, and forthwith disappeared into thehouse. 

Gordon turned from gazing after her to find the little Spaniard bowingbefore him. 

"Consider me at your service, Mr. Gordon----"

"Can't use you, " cut in Dick curtly. 

"I was remarking that, as her kinsman, I, Don Manuel Pesquiera, standprepared to make good her words. What the Señorita Valdés says, I say, too. "

"Then don't say it aloud, you little monkey, or I'll throw you over thehouse, " Dick promised immediately. 

Don Manuel clicked his heels together and twirled his black mustache. 

"I offer you, sir, the remedy of a gentleman. You, sir, shall choose theweapons. "

The Anglo-Saxon laughed in his face. 

"Good. Let it be toasting-forks, at twenty paces. "

The challenger drew himself up to his full five feet six. 

"You choose to be what you call droll. Sir, I give you the word, poltroon--_lâche_--coward. "

"Oh, go chase yourself. "

One of Pesquiera's little gloved hands struck the other's face with aresounding slap. Next instant he was lifted from his feet and tuckedunder Dick's arm. 

There he remained, kicking and struggling, in a manner most undignifiedfor a blue blood of Castile, while the Coloradoan stepped leisurelyforward to the irrigating ditch which supplied water for the garden andthe field of grain behind. This was now about two feet deep, and runningstrong. In it was deposited, at full length, the clapper little personof Don Manuel Pesquiera, after which Dick Gordon turned and went limpingdown the road. 

From the shutters of her room a girl had looked down and seen it all. She saw Don Manuel rescue himself from the ditch, all dripping withwater. She saw him gesticulating wildly, as he cursed the retreatingfoe, before betaking himself hurriedly from view to the rear of thehouse, probably to dry himself and nurse his rage the while. She sawGordon go on his limping way without a single backward glance. 

Then she flung herself on her bed and burst into tears. 

CHAPTER V

"AN OPTIMISTIC GUY"

Dick Gordon hobbled up the road, quite unaware for some time that he hada ricked knee. His thoughts were busy with the finale that had just beenenacted. He could not keep from laughing ruefully at the differencebetween it and the one of his day-dreams. He was too much of a Westernernot to see the humor of the comedy in which he had been forced to take aleading part, but he had insight enough to divine that it was much morelikely to prove melodrama than farce. 

Don Manuel was not the man to sit down under such an insult as he hadendured, even though he had brought it upon himself. It would too surelybe noised round that the _Americano_ was the claimant to the estate, inwhich event he was very likely to play the part of a sheath for restlessstilettos. 

This did not trouble him as much as it would have done some men. Thereal sting of the episode lay in Valencia Valdés' attitude toward him. He had been kicked out for his unworthiness. He had been cast aside as aspy and a sneak. 

The worst of it was that he felt his clumsiness deserved no less anissue to the adventure. Confound that little Don Manuel for bobbing upat such an inconvenient time! It was fierce luck. 

He stopped his tramp up the hill, and looked back over the valley. Legally it was all his. So his Denver lawyers had told him, afterlooking the case over carefully. The courts would decide for him in allprobability; morally he had not the shadow of a claim. The valley injustice belonged to those who had settled in it and were using it fortheir needs. His claim was merely a paper one. It had not a scintilla ofnatural justice back of it. 

He resumed his journey. By this time his knee was sending telegrams ofpain to headquarters. He cut an aspen by the roadside and trimmed it toa walking-stick and, as he went forward, leaned more and more heavilyupon it. 

"I'm going to have a game leg for fair if I don't look out, " he toldhimself ruefully. "This right pin surely ain't good for a twelve-miletramp. "

It was during one of his frequent stops to rest that a buggy appearedround the turn from the same direction he had come. It drew to a halt infront of him, and the lad who was driving got out. 

"Señorita Maria sends a carriage for Señor Gordon to take him toCorbett's, " he said. 

Dick was on hand with a sardonic smile. 

"Tell the _señorita_ that Mr. Gordon regrets having put her to so muchtrouble, but that he needs the exercise and prefers to walk. "

"The _señorita_ said I was to insist, _señor_. "

"Tell your mistress that I'm very much obliged to her, but have madeother arrangements. Explain to her I appreciate the offer just thesame. "

The lad hesitated, and Dick pushed him into decision. 

"That's all right, Juan--José--Pedro--Francisco--whatever your name is. You've done your levelest. Now, hike back to the ranch. _Vamos! Sabe. _"

"_Si, señor. _"

Dick heard the wheels disappear in the distance, and laughed aloud. 

"That young woman's conscience is hurting her. I reckon this tramp toCorbett's is going to worry her tender heart about as much as it doesme, and I've got to sweat blood before I get through with it. Here goesagain, Dicky. "

Every step sent a pain shooting through him, but he was the last man togive up on that account what he had undertaken. 

"She let me go without any lunch, " he chuckled. "I'll bet that troublesher some, too, when she remembers. She's got me out of the house, butI'll bet the last strike in the Nancy K. Against a dollar Mex that sheain't got me out of her mind by a heap. "

A buggy appeared in sight driven by a stout, red-faced old man. Evidently he was on his way to the ranch. 

"Who, hello, Doctor! I'm plumb glad to see you; couldn't wait till youcame, and had just to start out to meet you, " cried Dick. 

He stood laughing at the amazement in the face of the doctor, who was intwo minds whether to get angry or not. 

"Doggone your hide, what are you doing here? Didn't I tell you not towalk more than a few steps?" that gentleman protested. 

"But you didn't leave me a motor-car and, my visit being at an end, Ice'tainly had to get back to Corbett's. " As he spoke he climbed slowlyinto the rig. "That leg of mine is acting like sixty, Doctor. When youhappened along I was wondering how in time I was ever going to make it. "

"You may have lamed yourself for life. It's the most idiotic thing Iever heard of. I don't see why Miss Valdés let you come. Dad blame it, have I got to watch my patients like a hen does its chicks? Ain't any ofyou got a lick of sense? Why didn't she send a rig if you had to come?"the doctor demanded. 

"Seems to me she did mention a rig, but I thought I'd rather walk, "explained Gordon casually, much amused at Dr. Watson's chagrined wonder. 

"Walk!" snorted the physician. "You'll not walk, but be carried into anoperating-room if you're not precious lucky. You deserve to lose thatleg, and I don't say you won't. "

"I'm an optimistic guy, Doctor. I'll say it for you. I ain't got anylegs to spare. "

"Huh! Some people haven't got the sense of a chicken with its head cutoff. "

"Now you're shouting. Go for me, Doc. Then, mebbe, I'll do better nexttime. "

The doctor gave up this incorrigible patient and relapsed into silence, from which he came occasionally with an explosive "Huh!" Once he brokeout with: "Didn't she feed you well enough, or was it just that youdidn't _know_ when you were well off?"

For he was aware that his patient's fever was rising and, like a goodpractitioner, he fumed at such useless relapse. 

The knee had been doing fine. Now there would be the devil to pay withit. The utter senselessness of the proceeding irritated Watson. What inMexico had got into the young idiot to make him do such a fool thing?The doctor guessed at a quarrel between him and Miss Valdés. But theclose-mouthed American gave him no grounds upon which to base hissuspicion. 

The first thing that Dick did after reaching Corbett's was to send twotelegrams. One was addressed to Messrs. Hughes & Willets, 411-417Equitable Building, Denver, Colorado; the other went to Stephen Davis, Cripple Creek, of the same state. 

Doctor Watson hustled his patient to bed and did his best to relieve theincreasing pain in the swollen knee. He swore gently and sputtered andfumed as he worked, restraining himself only when Mrs. Corbett came intothe room with hot water, towels, compresses, and other supplies. 

"What about a nurse?" Watson wanted to know of Mrs. Corbett, a largemotherly woman whose kind heart always found room in it for the weak andhelpless. 

"I got no room for one. Juanita and I will take care of him. The work'sslack now. We'll have time. "

"He's going to take a heap of nursing, " the doctor answered, rubbing hisunshaven chin dubiously with the palm of his hand. "See how the fever'sclimbed up even in the last half hour. That boy's going to be a mightysick _hombre_. "

"I'm used to nursing, and Juanita is the best help I ever had, if she_is_ a Mexican. You may trust him to us. "

"Hmp! I wasn't thinking of him, but of you. Couldn't be in better hands, but it's an imposition for him to go racing all over these hills with agame leg and expect you to pull him through. "

Before midnight Dick was in a raging fever. In delirium he tossed fromside to side, sometimes silent for long stretches, then babblingfragments of forgotten scenes rescued by his memory automatically fromthe wild and picturesque past of the man. Now he fancied himself again aschoolboy, now a ranger in Arizona, now mushing on the snow trails ofAlaska. At times he would imagine that he was defending his mine againstattacking strikers, or that he was combing the Rincons for horsethieves. Out of his turbid past flared for an instant dramatic momentsof comedy or tragedy. These passed like the scenes of a motion-picturestory, giving place to something else. 

In the end he came back always to the adventure he was still living. 

"You're a spy. .. . You're a liar and a cheat. .. . You imposed yourselfupon my hospitality under false pretenses. .. . I hate myself forbreathing the same air as you. " He would break off to laugh foolishly, in a high-pitched note of derision at himself. "Stand up, Dick Gordon, and hear the lady tell you what a coyote you are. Stan' up and face themusic, you quitter. Liar . .. Spy . .. Cheat! That's you, Dick Gordon, un'erstand?"

Or the sick mind of the man would forget for the moment that they hadquarreled. His tongue would run over conversations that they had had, cherishing and repeating over and over again her gay little quips andsallies or her light phrases. 

"Valencia Valdés is as God made her. Now you're throwing sixes, ma'am. Sure she's like that. The devil helped a heap to make most of us what weare, but I reckon God made that little lady early in the mo'ning when Hewas feeling fine. .. . Say, I wish you'd look at me like that again andlight up with another of them dimply smiles. I got a surprise for you, Princess of the Rio Chama. Honest, I have. Sure as you're a foothigh. .. . Never you mind what it is. Just you wait a while and I'llspring it when the time's good and ready. I got to wait till the paperscome. See? . .. Oh, shucks, you're sore at me again! Liar . .. Cheat . .. Spy! Say, I know when I've had a-plenty. She don't like me. I'm goin' topull my freight for the Kotzebue country up in Alaska. 

 '_On the road to Kotzebue, optimistic through and through, We'll hit the trail together, boy, once more, jest me an' you_. '

Funny how women act, ain't it? Stand up and take your medicine--liar . .. Cheat . .. Spy! She said it, didn't she? Well, then, it must be so. Whatyou kickin' about?"

So he would run on until the fever had for the hour exhausted itself andhe lay still among the pillows. Sometimes he talked the strong languageof the man in battle with other men, but even in his oaths there wasnothing of vulgarity. 

Mrs. Corbett took the bulk of the nursing on her own broad fatshoulders, but during the day she was often relieved by her maid whileshe got a few hours of sleep. 

Juanita was a slim, straight girl not yet nineteen. Even before hissickness Dick, with the instinct for deference to all women ofself-respect that obtains among frontiersmen, had won the gratitude ofthe shy creature. There was something wild and sylvan about her sweetgrace. The deep, soft eyes in the brown oval face were as appealing asthose of a doe wounded by the hunter. 

She developed into a famous nurse. Low-voiced and soft-footed, she wouldcoax the delirious man to lie down when he grew excited or to take hismedicine according to the orders of the doctor. 

It was on the third day after Gordon's return to Corbett's that Juanitaheard a whistle while she was washing dishes after supper in thekitchen. Presently she slipped out of the back door and took the trailto the corral. A man moved forward out of the gloom to meet her. 

"Is it you, Pablo?"

A slender youth, lean-flanked and broad-shouldered, her visitor turnedout to be. His outstretched hands went forward swiftly to meet hers. 

"Juanita, light of my life?" he cried softly. "_Corazon mia!_"

She submitted with a little reluctant protest to his caress. "I have buta minute, Pablo. The _señora_ wants to walk over to Dolan's place. I amto stay with the sick American. "

He exploded with low, fierce energy. "A thousand curses take the gringo!Why should you nurse him? Is he not an enemy to the _señorita_--to allin the valley who have bought from her or her father or her grandfather?Is he not here to throw us out--a thief, a spy, a snake in the grass?"

"No, he is not. _Señor_ Gordon is good . .. And kind. "

"Bah! You are but a girl. He gives you soft words--and so----" Thejealousy in him flared suddenly out. He caught his sweetheart tightly bythe arm. "Has he made love to you, this gringo? Has he whispered soft, false lies in your ear, Juanita? If he has----"

She tried to twist free from him. "You are hurting my arm, Pablo, " thegirl cried. 

"It is my heart you hurt, _niña_. Is it true that this thief has stolenthe love of my Juanita?"

"You are a fool, Pablo. He has never said a hundred words to me. Allthrough his sickness he has talked and talked--but it is of _Señorita_Valdés that he has raved. "

"So. He will rob her of all she has and yet can talk of loving her. Doyou not see he is a villain, that he has the forked tongue, as old BearPaw, the Navajo, says of all gringoes? But let Señor Gordon beware. Histime is short. He will not live to drive us from the valley. So say I. So say all the men in the valley. "

"No--no! I will not have it, Pablo. You do not know. This _Señor_ Gordonis good. He would not drive us away. " Her arms slid around the neck ofher lover and she pleaded with him impetuously. "You must not let themhurt him, for it is a kind heart he has. "

"Why should I interfere? He is only a gringo. Let him die. I tell you hemeans harm to all of us. "

"I do not know my Pablo when he talks like this. My Pablo was alwayskind and good and of a soft heart. I do not love him when he is cruel. "

"It is then that you love the American, " he cried. "Did I not know it?Did I not say so?"

"You say much that is foolish, _muchacho_. The American is a stranger tome . .. And you are Pablo. But how can I love you when your heart is fullof cruelty and jealousy and revenge? Go to the Blessed Virgin andconfess before the good priest your sins, _amigo_. "

"_Amigo!_ Since when have I been friend to you and not lover, Juanita? Iknow well for how long--since this gringo with the white face crossedyour trail. "

Suddenly she flung away from him. "_Muy bien!_ You shall think as youplease. Adios, my friend with the head of a donkey! _Adios, icabron!_"

She was gone, light as the wind, flying with swift feet down the trailto the house. Sulkily he waited for her to come out again, but the girldid not appear. He gave her a full half hour before he swung to thesaddle and turned the head of his pony toward the Valdés' hacienda. Anew and poignant bitterness surged in his heart. Had this stranger, whowas bringing trouble to the whole valley, come between him and littleJuanita, whom he had loved since they had been children? Had he stolenher heart with his devilish wiles? The hard glitter in the black eyes ofthe Mexican told that he would punish him if this were true. 

His younger brother Pedro took the horse from him as he rode into theranch plaza an hour later. 

"You are to go to the _señorita_ at once and tell her how the gringo is, Pablo. " After a moment he added sullenly: "_Maldito_, how is the son ofa thief?"

"Sick, Pedro, sick unto death. The devil, as you say, may take him yetwithout any aid from us, " answered Pablo Menendez brusquely. 

"Why does the _señorita_ send you every day to find out how he is? Canshe not telephone? And why should she care what becomes of the traitor?"demanded Pedro angrily. 

His brother shrugged. "How should I know?" He had troubles enough withthe fancies of another woman without bothering about those of the_señorita_. 

Valencia Valdés was on the porch waiting for her messenger. 

"How is he, Pablo? Did you see the doctor and talk with him? What doeshe say?"

"_Si, señorita_. I saw Doctor Watson and he send you this letter. Theysay the American is a sick man--oh, very, very sick!"

The young woman dismissed him with a nod and hurried to her room. Sheread the letter from the doctor and looked out of one of the deep adobewindows into the starry night. It happened to be the same window fromwhich she had last seen him go hobbling down the road. She rose and putout the light so that she could weep the more freely. It was hard forher to say why her heart was so heavy. To herself she denied that shecared for this jaunty debonair scoundrel. He was no doubt all she hadtold him on that day when she had driven him away. 

Yes, but she had sent him to pain and illness . .. Perhaps to death. Thetears fell fast upon the white cheeks. Surely it was not her fault thathe had been so obstinate. Yet--down in the depth of her heart she knewshe loved the courage that had carried him with such sardonic derisionout upon the road for the long tramp that had so injured him. And therewas an inner citadel within her that refused to believe him the sneakingpup she had accused him of being. No man with such honest eyes, whostood so erect and graceful in the image of God, could be socontemptible a cur. There was something fine about the spirit of theman. She had sensed the kinship of it without being able to put a fingerexactly upon the quality she meant. He might be a sinner, but it washard to believe him a small and mean one. The dynamic spark ofself-respect burned too brightly in his soul for that. 

CHAPTER VI

JUANITA

The fifth day marked the crisis of Gordon's illness. After that he beganslowly to mend. 

One morning he awoke to a realization that he had been very ill. Hisbody was still weak, but his mind was coherent again. A slender youngwoman moved about the room setting things in order. 

"Aren't you Juanita?" he asked. 

Her heart gave a leap. This was the first time he had recognized her. Sometimes in his delirium he had caught at her hand ind tried to kissit, but always under the impression that she was Miss Valdés. 

"_Si, señor_, " she answered quietly. 

"I thought so. " He added after a moment, with the childlike innocence asick person has upon first coming back to sanity: "There couldn't be twogirls as pretty as you in this end of the valley, could there?"

Under her soft brown skin the color flooded Juanita's face. "I--I don'tknow. " She spoke in a flame of embarrassment, so abrupt had been hiscompliment and so sincere. 

"I've been very sick, haven't I?"

She nodded. "Oh, _señor_, we have been--what you call--worried. "

"Good of you, Juanita. Who has been taking care of me?"

"Mrs. Corbett. "

"And Juanita?"

"Sometimes. "

"Ah! That's good of you, too, _amiga_. "

She recalled a phrase she had often heard an American rancher's daughtersay. "I loved to do it, _señor_. "

"But why? I'm your enemy, you know. You ought to hate me. Do you?"

Once again the swift color poured into the dark cheeks, even to theround birdlike throat. 

"No, _señor_. "

He considered this an instant before he accused her whimsically. "Thenyou're not a good girl. You should hate the devil, and I'm his agent. Any of your friends will tell you that. "

"_Señor_ Gordon is a joke. "

He laughed weakly. "Am I? I'll bet I am, the fool way I acted. "

"I mean a--what you call--a joker, " she corrected. 

"But ain't I your enemy, my little good Samaritan? Isn't that what allyour people are saying?"

"I not care what they say. "

"If I'm not your enemy, what am I?"

She made a great pretense of filling the ewer with water and gatheringup the soiled towels. 

"How about that, _niña_?" he persisted, turning toward her on the pillowwith his unshaven face in his hand, a gentle quizzical smile in hiseyes. 

"I'm your . .. Servant, _señor_, " she flamed, after the embarrassment ofsilence had grown too great. 

"No, no! Nothing like that. What do you say? Will you take me for afriend, even though I'm an enemy to the whole valley?"

Her soft, dark eyes flashed to meet his, timidly and yet with an effectof fine spirit. 

"_Si, señor_. "

"Good. Shake hands on it, little partner. "

She came forward reluctantly, as if she were pushed toward him by someinner compulsion. Her shy embarrassment, together with the sweetness ofthe glad emotion that trembled in her filmy eyes, lent her a rare charm. 

For just an instant her brown fingers touched his, then she turned andfled from the room. 

Mrs. Corbett presently bustled in, fat, fifty, and friendly. 

"I can't hardly look you in the face, " he apologized, with his mostwinning smile. "I reckon I've been a nuisance a-plenty, getting sick onyour hands like a kid. "

Mrs. Corbett answered his smile as she arranged the coverlets. 

"You'll just have to be good for a spell to make up for it. No moreten-mile walks, Mr. Muir, till the knee is all right. "

"I reckon you better call me Gordon, ma'am. " His mind passed to what shehad said about his walk. "Ce'tainly that was a fool _pasear_ for a manto take. Comes of being pig-headed, Mrs. Corbett. And Doc Watson hadtold me not to use that game leg much. But, of course, I knew best, " hesighed ruefully. 

"Well, you've had your lesson. And you've worried all of us. Miss Valdéshas called up two or three times a day on the phone and sent a messengerover every evening to find out how you were. "

Dick felt the blood flush his face. "She has?" Then, after a little:"That's very kind of Miss Valdés. "

"Yes. Everybody has been kind. Mr. Pesquiera has called up every day toinquire about you. He has been very anxious for you to recover. "

A faint sardonic smile touched the white lips. "A fellow never knows howmany friends he has till he needs them. So Don Manuel is in a hurry tohave me get on my feet. That's surely right kind of him. "

He thought he could guess why that proud and passionate son of Spainfretted to see him ill. The humiliation to which he had been subjectedwas rankling in his heart and would oppress him till he could wipe itout in action. 

"You've got other friends, too, that have worried a lot, " said Mrs. Corbett, as she took up some knitting. 

"More friends yet? Say, ain't I rich? I didn't know how blamed popular Iwas till now, " returned the invalid, with derisive irony. "Who is itthis time I've got to be grateful for?"

"Mr. Davis. "

"Steve Davis--from Cripple Creek, Colorado, God's Country?"

"Yes. "

"Been writing about me, has he?"

Mrs. Corbett smiled. She had something up her sleeve. "First writing, then wiring. "

"He's a kind of second dad to me. Expect the old rooster got anxious. "

"Looks that way. Anyhow, he reached here last night. "

Gordon got up on an elbow in his excitement. "Here? Here now? OldSteve?"

She nodded her head and looked over her shoulder toward the dining-room. "In there eating his breakfast. He'll be through pretty soon. You see, he doesn't know you're awake. "

Presently Davis came into the room. He walked to the bed and took bothof his friend's hands in his. Tears were shining in his eyes. 

"You darned old son-of-a-gun, what do you mean by scaring us like this?I've lost two years' growth on account of your foolishness, boy. "

"Did Mrs. Corbett send for you?"

"No, I sent for myself soon as I found out how sick you was. Now hustleup and get well. "

"I'm going to do just that"

Dick kept his word. Within a few days he was promoted to a rocking-chairon the porch. Here Juanita served his meals and waited on his demandswith the shy devotion that characterized a change in her attitude tohim. She laughed less than she did. His jokes, his claim upon her as his"little partner, " his friendly gratitude, all served to embarrass her, and at the same time to fill her with a new and wonderful delight. 

A week ago, when he had been lying before her asleep one day, she hadrun her little finger through one of his tawny curls and admired itscrisp thickness. To her maiden fancy something of his strong virilityhad escaped even to this wayward little lock of hair. She had wonderedthen how the _Señorita_ Valdés could keep from loving this splendidfellow if he cared for her. All the more she wondered now, for hertruant heart was going out to him with the swift ardent passion of herrace. It was as a sort of god she looked upon him, as a hero of romancefar above her humble hopes. She found herself longing for chances towait upon him, to do little services that would draw the approving smileto his eyes. 

Gordon was still in the porch-dwelling stage of convalescence when aMexican rider swung from his saddle one afternoon with a letter fromManuel Pesquiera. The note was a formal one, written in the thirdperson, and it wasted no words. 

After reading it Dick tossed the sheet of engraved stationery across tohis companion. 

"Nothing like having good, anxious friends in a hurry to have you well, Steve, " he said, with a smile. 

The old miner read the communication. "Well, what's the matter with hishoping you'll be all right soon?"

"No reason why he shouldn't. It only shows what a Christian, forgivingdisposition he's got. You see, that day I most walked my leg off Isoused Mr. Pesquiera in a ditch. "

"You--what?"

"Just what I say. I picked him up and dropped the gentleman in thenearest ditch. That's why he's so anxious to get me well. "

"But--why for, boy?"

Dick laughed. "Can't you see, you old moss-back? He wants me well enoughto call out for a duel. "

"A duel. " Davis stared at him dubiously. He did not know whether or nothis friend was making game of him. 

"Yes, sir. Pistols and coffee for two, waiter. That sort of thing. "

"But folks don't fight duels nowadays, " remonstrated the puzzled miner. "Anyhow, what's he want to fight about? I reckon you didn't duck him fornothing, did you? What was it all about?"

Dick told his tale of adventures, omitting only certain emotions thatwere his private property. He concluded with an account of theirrigating-ditch episode. "It ain't the custom in this part of thecountry to duck the blue bloods. Shouldn't wonder but what he's some hotunder the collar. Writes like he sees red, don't you think, but aims tobe polite and keep his shirt on. "

Davis refused to treat the matter as a joke. 

"I told you to let your lawyers 'tend to this, Dick, and for you not topoke your nose into this neck of the woods. But you had to come, andright hot off the reel you hand one to this Pesky fellow, or whateveryou call him. Didn't I tell you that you can't bat these greasers overthe head the way you can the Poles in the mines?"

"Sure you told me. You're always loaded with good advice, Steve. Butwhat do you expect me to do when a fellow slaps my face?"

"They won't stand fooling with, these greasers. This Pesky fellow isplaying squarer than most would if he gives you warning to be ready withyour six-gun. You take my advice, and you'll burn the wind out of thiscountry. If you git this fellow, the whole pack of them will be on topof you, and don't you forget it, son. "

"So you advise me to cut and run, do you?" said Dick. 

"You bet. "

"That's what you'd do, is it?"

"Sure thing. You can't clean out the whole of New Mexico. "

"Quit your lying, Steve, you old war-horse. You'd see it out, just likeI'm going to. "

Davis scratched his grizzled poll and grinned, but continued to dispensegood advice. 

"You ain't aiming to mix with this whole blamed country, are you?"

The man in the chair sat up, his lean jaw set and his eyes gleaming. 

"I've been called the scum o' the earth. I've been kicked out of herhouse as a fellow not decent enough to mix with honest folks. Onlyyesterday I got a letter from some of her people warning me to leave thecountry while I was still alive. This Pesquiera is camping on my trail. "

"Maybe he ain't. You've only guessed that. "

"Guess nothing. It's a cinch. "

"What you going to do about it?"

"Nothing. "

"But if he lays for you. "

"Good enough. Let him go to it. I'm going through with this thing. I'mgoing to show them who's the best man. And when I've beat them to astandstill I've got a revenge ready that will make Miss Valdés eathumble pie proper. Yes, sir. I'm tied to this country till this thing'ssettled. "

"Then there ain't any use saying any more about it. You always was awillful son-of-a-gun, " testified his partner, with a grin. "And I reckonI'll have to stay with you to pack you home after the greasers have shotyou up. "

"Don't you ever think it, Steve, " came back the cheerful retort. "I'vegot a hunch this is my lucky game. I'm sitting in to win, old hoss. "

"What's your first play, Dick?"

"I made it last week, within twenty minutes of the time I got back here. Wired my lawyers to bring suit at once, and to push it for all it wasworth. "

"You can't settle it by the courts inside of a year, or mebbe two. "

"I ain't aiming to settle it by the courts. All I want is they shouldknow I've got them beat to a fare-ye-well in the courts. Their lawyerswill let them know that mighty early, just as soon as they look thefacts up. There ain't any manner of doubt about my legal claim. I guessMiss Valdés knows that already, but I want her to know it good and sure. Then I'll paddle my own canoe. The law's only a bluff to make my handbetter. I'm calling for that extra card for the looks of it, but my handis full up without it"

"What's in your hand, anyhow, outside of your legal right? Looks to methey hold them all from ace down. "

Dick laughed. 

"You wait and see, " he said. 

CHAPTER VII

TWO MESSAGES

Because Dick had always lived a clean, outdoor life he ralliedmagnificently from the relapse into which his indiscretion had thrownhim. For a few days Dr. Watson was worried by reason of the danger ofblood-poisoning, but the splendid vitality of his patient quickly swepthim out of danger. Soon he was hobbling round with a cane, and shortlyafter was able to take long rides over the country with his friend. 

On one of these occasions, while they were climbing a hill trail, Davisbroke a long silence to say aloud to himself: "There's just one way toaccount for it. "

"Then it can't be a woman you're thinking of, " Dick laughed; "for as faras I can make out there's always several ways to account for them, andthe one you guess usually ain't right. "

"You've said it, son. It's a woman. I been doing some inquiring aboutthis Miss Valdés, and from all telling she's the prettiest ever. "

"I could have told you that. It ain't a secret. "

"I notice you didn't tell me. "

"You didn't ask, you old geezer. "

"Sho! You ain't such a clam when it comes to pretty girls. You didn'ttalk about her, because your haid's been full of her. It don't take amind-reader to know that. "

"You're ce'tainly a wizard, Steve, " came back his partner dryly. 

"I know you and your little ways by this time. "

"So I'm in love, am I?"

"You're there, or traveling there mighty fast. Course I don't know aboutthe lady. "

"What don't you know about her?" asked Dick, who was by way of beingboth amused and pleased that the subject had been broached. 

"How she feels about the proposition. She had you kicked out of thehouse. That looks kinder as if your show was slim. She did send overright often to see how you was getting along, but I reckon she didn'twant to feel responsible for your turning up your toes. Women are thatway, even when they hate a man real thorough. "

"You're quite an expert. I wonder you know so much about them, and younever married. "

To this sarcastic reminder Steve made philosophic reply. "Mebbe it wasbecause I knew so much about them I never married. "

"You're surely a wise old rooster. You think she hates me, then?"

Davis covered a grin. He knew from his friend's tone that the barb hadpierced the skin. 

"Well, looking at it like a reasonable man, there ain't any questionabout it. Soon as you begin to mend she quits taking any interest inyou; don't know you're on the earth any more. A reasonable man----"

"A reasonable goat!" Dick reined up till the other horse was abreast ofhis, then dived into his pocket and handed Steve a letter. "She's quittaking any interest in me, has she? Don't know I'm on the earth, you oldowl? Looks like it, and her sending me a letter this very day. "

Steve turned the square envelope around and weighed it in his hand. 

"Am I to read this here _billy doo_?" he wanted to know. 

"Yes, sir. "

Gravely the old miner opened and read the following:

 "Miss Valdés begs to inform Mr. Gordon that she has reason to fear Mr. Gordon's life is not safe in the present feeling of the country. Out of regard for her people, whom she would greatly regret to see in trouble, Miss Valdés would recommend Mr. Gordon to cut short his pleasure trip to New Mexico. Otherwise Miss Valdés declines any responsibility for the result. "

"Can't be called very affectionate, can it?" was Mr. Davis's comment. "Ain't it jest a leetle mite--well, like she was writing with a pokerdown her back?"

"I didn't say it was affectionate, " snorted the young man. 

"Oh, I allowed you thought she was in love with you. "

"I didn't say or think anything of the kind, " protested Dickindignantly. "I said she hadn't forgotten me. "

"Well, she ain't, if that's any comfort. "

With which, Mr. Davis handed back the letter. "What did you answer tothe _billy doo_?"

"I said that Mr. Gordon presented his compliments and begged to replythat he had large business interests in this part of the country thatnecessitated a visit of some length, and probably in the end a permanentresidence here; and that he would very fully absolve Miss Valdés of anyresponsibility for his remaining. "

"Both of you used up a heap of dictionary words; but that wasn't so bad, either, " grinned Steve. "You got back at her, all right, for the'pleasure trip' part of her letter, but I expect you and she woulddisagree as to what that 'permanent residence' means. I hope it won't bemore permanent than you think. "

From the rocks above came the sound of an exploding rifle. Dick's hatwas lifted from his head as by a gust of wind. Immediately after theycaught sight of a slim, boyish figure dodging among the rocks. 

"There he goes, " cried Dick; and he slid from his saddle and took up thechase. 

"Come back. There may be several of them up there, " called the oldminer. 

Gordon paid no attention; and Steve had nothing left to do but followhim up the rocky hillside. 

"He'll spoil that game leg of his again, first thing he knows, " theold-timer growled as he followed in the rear. 

Presently a second shot rang out. Davis hastened forward as fast as hecould. 

At the top of the ridge he came on his companion sitting behind a rock. 

"Lost him in these rocks, did you?" he asked. 

A sardonic smile lit up the face of his friend. 

"No, Steve, I found him; but he persuaded me I oughtn't to travel sofast on this leg. You see, he had a rifle, and my six-gun wasoutclassed. I couldn't get into range, and decided to hunt cover, afterhe took another crack at me. "

"I should think you'd know better than to go hunting bear with atwenty-two. "

"It ain't a twenty-two; but, for a fact, it don't carry a mile. I gotwhat I want, though. I know who the gentleman is. "

"Sure it wasn't a lady, Dick?"

"Don't you, Steve, " warned Gordon. "She's a lady and a Christian. Youwouldn't say that if you knew her. Besides, she saved my life. "

"Who was it? That Pesky fellow?"

"No. He's hot-blooded; but he wouldn't strike below the belt. He's agentleman. This was one of the lads on her home-place, aneighteen-year-old boy named Pedro. He's in love with her. I saw it soonas I set eyes on him the day I went there. He worships her as if shewere a saint. Of course, he loves her without any hope; but that doesn'tkeep him from being jealous of me. He's heard about the row, and hethinks he'll do her a service by putting me out of the game. "

"Sort of fix you up with that permanent residence you were talkingabout, " suggested Steve. 

"He didn't make good this time, anyhow. I'll bet a hat he'd catch it ifMiss Valdés knew what he had been doing. "

"She may be a Christian and all you say, Dick, but she don't run aSunday school on her ranch and train these young greasers proper. Idon't like this ambushing. They might git the wrong man. "

"I'm not partial to it, myself. That lead pill hummed awful close tome. "

They had by this time returned to the road, and Dick picked up his hatfrom the dust. There were two little round holes in the crown, and onein the brim. 

"If he had shot an inch lower I would have qualified for that permanentresidence, Steve, " Dick laughed. 

"Hmp! Let's get out of here _pronto_, Dick. I'm darned if I like to bethe target at a shooting gallery. And next time I go riding there'sgoing to be a good old Winchester lying over my saddle-horn. "

Now, as very chance would have it, Miss Valdés, too, rode the hill trailthat afternoon; and every step of the broncos lessened the distancebetween them. 

They met at a turn of the steep path. Davis was in the lead, and thegirl passed him just in time to meet Dick's bow. It was a veryrespectful bow; but there was a humorous irony in the gray eyes that methers, which hinted at a different story. She made as if to pass him, but, on an impulse, reined in. His ventilated hat came off again, as hewaited for her to speak. 

For an instant she let her gaze rest in his, the subdued crimson of hercheeks triumphant over the olive. But the color was not ofembarrassment, and in her eyes shone the spirit of a descendant of oldDon Alvaro de Valdés y Castillo. She sat her mount superbly; as jimp anderect as a willow sapling. 

"You received a message from me this morning, sir, " she said haughtily. 

"Yes, Miss Valdés; I received a message from you this morning andanswered it. This afternoon I received one from one of your friends; butI haven't answered that yet. "

As he spoke he let his eyes fall upon the hat in his hand. 

Hers followed his, and she started in spite of herself. 

"Did--did--were you shot at?" she asked, with dilating eyes. 

"Oh, well! He didn't hit me. It's not worth mentioning. "

"Not worth mentioning? Who did it, sir? I demand to know who did it?"

He hesitated as he picked his words. 

"You see--well--he was behind a rock, and not very close, at that. "

"But you knew him. I demand his name. He shall be punished. I myselfwill see to that. "

"I'll do what punishing needs to be done, Miss Valdés. Much obliged toyou, just the same. "

Her eyes flashed. 

"You forget, sir, that they are my people. I gave orders--the verystrictest orders. I told them that, no matter what you did or how faryou went, you were not to be molested. "

"How far I went? You've been served with a legal notice, then? I thoughtyou must have by this time. "

"Yes, sir, I have. But neither on that nor any other subject do I desireany conversation with you. "

"Of course not, me being a spy and all those other things youmentioned, " he said quietly. 

"I stopped to tell you only one thing. You must leave this country. Prosecute your suit from a distance. My people are wrought up. You seefor yourself now. " Her gauntlet indicated the hat. 

"They do seem to be enthusiastic about hating me, " he agreed pleasantly. "I suppose I'm not what you would call popular here. "

She gave a gesture of annoyance. 

"Can't you understand that this is no time for flippancy? Can't you makehim see it, sir?" she called to Davis. 

That gentleman shook his head. 

"He'll go his own way, I expect. He always was that bull-headed. "

"Firm--I call it, " smiled Gordon. 

"I ask you to remember that he has had his warning, " the girl called toSteve. 

"I've had several, " acknowledged Dick, his eyes again on the hat. "Therewon't be anybody to blame but myself. "

"You know who shot at you. I saw it in your face. Tell me, and I willsee that he is punished, " she urged. 

Dick shook his head imperturbably. 

"No; I reckon that wouldn't do. I'm playing a lone hand. You're on theother side. How can I come and ask you to fight my battles for me? Thatwouldn't be playing the game. I'll attend to the young man that mistookme for a rabbit. "

"Very well. As you like. But you are quite mistaken if you think I askedon your account. He had disobeyed my orders, and he deserved to pay forit. I have no further interest in the matter. "

"Certainly. I understand that. What interest could Miss Valdés have in aspy and a cheat?" he drawled negligently. 

The young woman flushed, made as if to speak, then turned away abruptly. 

She touched her pony with the spur, and as it took the outside of theslanting, narrow trail, its hoof slipped on loose gravel and went overthe edge. Dick's arm went out like a streak of lightning and caught therein. 

For an instant the issue hung in doubt whether he could hold the broncoand save her a nasty fall. The taut muscles of his lean arm and bodygrew rigid with the strain before the animal found its feet and thepath. 

"Thank you, " the young woman said quietly, and at once disengaged therein from his fingers by a turn of the pony's head. 

Yet a moment, and she had disappeared round a bend in the trail. Gordonhad observed with satisfaction that there had been no sign of fear inher eyes at the danger she faced, no screaming or wild clutching at hisarm for help. Her word of thanks to him had been as cool and low as therest of her talk. 

"She's that game. Ain't she a thoroughbred, Steve?" demanded Dick, withdeep delight in his fair foe. 

"You bet she is. It's a shame for you to be annoying her this way. Whydon't you come to an agreement with her?"

"She ain't ready for that yet. When the time comes I'll dictate theterms of the treaty. Don't you think it's about time for us to beheading back home?"

"Then we'll meet your lady of the ranch quicker, won't we?" chuckledDavis. "Funny you didn't think about going back till after she hadpassed. "

But if Dick had hoped to see her again he was disappointed for that day, at least. They reached Corbett's with never another glimpse of her; norwas there any sign of her horse in front of the post office and generalstore. 

"Must have taken that lower trail that leads back to the ranch, "hazarded Gordon. 

"I reckon, " agreed his friend. "Seems funny, too; her knowing you was onthe upper one. "

"Guy me all you like. I can stand it, " returned Dick cheerfully. 

For he had scored once in spite of her. He had saved her from a fall, ata place where, to say the least, it would have been dangerous. She hadannounced herself indifferent to his existence; but the very fact thatshe had felt called upon to say so gave denial to the statement. Shemight hate him, and she probably did; at least, she had him on her minda good deal. The young man was sure of that. He was shrewdly of opinionthat his chances were better if she hated him than if she never thoughtof him at all. 

CHAPTER VIII

TAMING AN OUTLAW

"Something doing back of the corral, Mr. Gordon. "

Yeager, the horse-wrangler at Corbett's, stopped in front of the porch, and jerked his head, with a twisted grin, in the direction indicated. 

Everything about the little stableman was crooked. From the slope of hislegs to the set of his bullet head on the narrow shoulders, he was awry. But he had an instinct about horses that was worth more than the beautyof any slim, tanned _vaquero_ of the lot. 

Only one horse had he failed to subdue. That was Teddy, a rakish sorrelthat had never yet been ridden. Many had tried it, but none had stuck tothe saddle to the finish; and some had been carried from the corral tothe hospital. 

Dick got up and strolled back, with his hands in his pockets. 

A dozen _vaqueros_ and loungers sat and stood around the mouth of thecorral, from which a slim young Mexican was leading the sorrel. 

"So, it's you, Master Pedro, " thought the young American. "I didn'texpect to see you here. "

The lad met his eyes quietly as he passed, giving him a sullen nod ofgreeting; evidently he hoped he had not been recognized as the previousday's ambusher. 

"Is Pedro going to ride the outcast?" Dick asked of Yeager, in surprise. 

Yeager grinned. 

"He's going to try. The boy's slap-up rider, but he ain't got it in himto break Teddy--no, nor any man in New Mexico ain't. "

Dick looked the horse over carefully, as it stood there while the boytightened the girths--feet wide apart, small head low, and red eyesgleaming wickedly. Deep-chested, with mighty shoulders, barrel-bodiedlike an Indian pony, Teddy showed power in every line of him. It waseasy to guess him for the unbroken outlaw he was. 

There was a swift scatter backward of the onlookers as Pedro swung tothe saddle. Before his right foot was in the stirrup, the bronco bucked. 

The young Mexican, light and graceful, settled to the saddle with adelighted laugh, and drove the spurs home. The animal humped like acamel, head and tail down, went into the air and back to earth, withfour feet set like pile-drivers. It was a shock to drive a man's spinetogether like a concertina; but Pedro took it limply, giving to the jarof the impact as the pony came down again and again. 

Teddy tasted the quirt along his quarters, and the pain made himfrantic. He went screaming straight into the air, hung there a longinstant, and fell over backward. The lad was out of the saddle in timeand no more, and back in his seat before the outlaw had scrambled to hisfeet. 

The spur starred him to renewed life. Like a flash of lightning, thebrute's head swung round and snapped at the boy's leg. Pedro wrenchedthe head back in time to save himself; and Teddy went to sun-fishing, and presently to fence-rowing. 

The dust flew in clouds. It wrapped them in so that the boy saw nothingbut the wicked ears in front of him. His throat became a lime-kiln, hiseyes stared like those of a man weary from long wakefulness. The hot sunbaked his bare neck and head, the while Teddy rocketed into the sky andpounded into the earth. 

Neither rider nor mount had mercy. The quirt went back and forth like apiston-rod, and the outlaw, in screaming fury, leaped and tossed like asmall boat in a tremendous sea of cross-currents. 

"It's sure hell-for-leather. That hawss can tie himself in more knotsthan any that was ever foaled, " commented a tobacco-chewing puncher in ascarlet kerchief. 

"Pedro is a straight-up rider, but he ain't got it in him to masterTeddy--no; nor no man ain't, " contributed Yeager again proudly. "Hawssesis like men. Some of 'em can't be broke; you can only kill them. Teddy'sone of them kind. "

Dick differed, but did not say so. 

"Look at him now. There he goes weaving. That hawss is a devil, I tellyou. He's got every hawss-trick there is, and all of 'em worked up to acombination of his own. Look out there, Ped. "

The warning came too late. Teddy had jammed into the corral fence, andground his rider's knee till the torture of the pain had distracted hisattention. Once more then swept round the ugly stub nose, and the yellowteeth fastened in the leather chaps with a vicious snap that did notentirely miss the flesh of the leg. 

The boy, with a cry of pain and terror, slipped to the ground, his nervecompletely shaken. The sorrel lashed out with his hind feet, and missedhis head by a hairbreadth. Pedro turned to run, stumbled, and went down. 

The outlaw was upon him like a streak, striking with sharp chiseledforefeet at the prostrate man. Along the line of spectators ran a groan, a kind of sobbing murmur of despair. A young Mexican who had just riddenup flung himself from his horse and ran forward, though he knew he wastoo late. 

"Pedro's done for, " cried one. 

And so he would have been but for the watchfulness and alertness of oneman. 

Dick had been ready the instant the outlaw had flung against the fence. He had been prepared to see the boy weaken, and had anticipated it inhis forward leap. The furious animal had risen to drive home his hoofs, when an arm shot out, caught the bridle, and dragged him sideways. Thisunexpected intervention dazed the animal; and while he still stooduncertain, Gordon swung to the saddle and dug his heels into thebleeding sides. 

As to a signal the bronco rose, and the battle was on again. 

But this time the victory was not in doubt to the onlookers after thefirst half-dozen jumps. For this man rode like a master. He held a closebut easy seat, and a firm rein, along which ran the message of an ironwill to the sensitive foaming mouth which held the bit tight-clamped. 

This brown, lithe man was all bone and sinew and muscle. He rode like aCentaur, as if he were a part of the horse, as easily and gracefully asa chip does the waves. The outlaw was furious with hate, blind with amadness that surged through it; but all its weaving and fence-rowingcould not shake the perfect poise of the rider, nor tinge with fear theglad fighting edge that throbbed like a trumpet-call in the blood. 

Slowly the certainty of this sifted to the animal. The pitches grew lessvolcanic, died presently into fitful mechanical rises and falls thatforetold the finish. Its spirit broken, with that terrible incubus of ahuman clothes-pin still clamped to the saddle, Teddy gave up, and forthe first time hung his head in token of defeat. 

Dick tossed the bridle to Yeager and swung off. 

"There aren't any of them so bad, if a fellow will stay with them, " hesaid. 

"Where did you learn your riding, partner?" asked the puncher with thescarlet kerchief knotted around his neck. 

"I used to ride for an outfit up in Wyoming, " returned Dick. 

"Well, I'd like to ride for that outfit, if all the boys stick to thesaddle like you, " returned the kerchiefed one. 

Gordon did not explain that he had been returned winner in more than onebucking-bronco contest in the days when he rode the range. 

He was already sauntering toward the house. 

From a side porch Pedro, awaiting the arrival of a rig to take him backto the ranch, sat with his bruised leg on a chair and watched theapproach of the stalwart figure that came as lightly as though it trodon eggs. He had hobbled here and watched the other do easily what hadbeen beyond him. 

His heart was bitter with the sense of defeat, none the less becausethis man whom he had lately tried to kill had just saved his life. 

"_Como_?" asked Dick, stopping in front of him to brush dust from histrousers with a pocket-handkerchief. 

Pedro mumbled something. Under his olive skin the color burned. Tears ofmortification were in his eyes. 

"You saved my life, _señor_. Take it. It is yours, " the boy cried. 

"What shall _I_ do with it?"

"I care not. Make an end of it, as on Tuesday I tried to make an end ofyours, " cried the lad wildly. 

Gordon took off his hat and looked at the bullet holes casually. 

"You did not miss it very far, Pedro. "

"You knew then, _señor_, that I was the man?" the Mexican asked insurprise. 

"Oh, yes; I knew that. "

"And you did nothing?"

"Yes; I ducked behind a rock, " laughed Gordon. 

"But you make no move to arrest me?"

"No. "

"But, if I should shoot again?"

"I expect to carry a rifle next time I go riding, Pedro. "

The Mexican considered this. 

"You are a brave man, _señor_. "

The Anglo-Saxon snorted scornfully. 

"Because I ain't bluffed out by a kid that needs a horse-whip laid ongood and hard? Don't you make any mistake, boy. I'm going to give youthe licking of your young life. You were due for it to-day, but it willhave to be postponed, I reckon, till you're on your feet again. "

Pedro's eyes glittered dangerously. 

"Señor Gordon has saved my life. It is his. But no living man lays handson Pedro Menendez, " the boy said, drawing himself haughtily to his fullslender height. 

"You'll learn better, Pedro, before the week's out. You've got to standthe gaff, just the same as a white boy would. You're in for a goodwhaling, and there ain't any use getting heroic about it. "

"I think not, Señor Gordon. " There was a suggestion of repressed emotionin the voice. 

Dick turned sharply at the words. A lean, clean-built young fellow stoodbeside the porch. He stepped up lightly, so that he was behind the chairin which Pedro had been sitting. Seen side by side thus, there could beno mistaking the kinship between the two Mexicans. Both were goodlooking, both lean and muscular, both had a sort of banked volcanicpassion in their black eyes. Dangerous men, these slim swarthy youths, judged Gordon with a sure instinct. 

"You think not, Pedro Number 2, " retorted the American lightly. 

"My name is Pablo, Señor--Pablo Menendez, " corrected the young man withdignity. 

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Menendez. I was just telling your brother--ifPedro is your brother--that I intend to wear out a buggy whip on him assoon as his leg is well, " explained Dick pleasantly. 

"No. You have saved his life. It is yours. Take it. " The black eyes ofthe Mexican met steadily the blue-gray ones of the American. 

"Much obliged, but I can't use it. As soon as I've tanned his hide I'mthrough with Master Pedro, " returned the miner carelessly. 

He was turning away when Pablo stopped him. The musical voice was lowand clear. "Señor Gordon understands then. Pedro will pay. He willendure shot for shot if the Señor wishes it. But no man living shall laya whip upon him. "

Gordon shrugged his shoulders. "We shall see, my friend. The first timeI meet him after his leg is all right Master Pedro gets the licking heneeds. "

"You are warned, _señor_. "

Dick nodded and walked away, humming a song lightly. 

The black eyes of the Mexicans followed him as long as he was in sight. A passionate hatred burned in those of the elder brother. Those of Pedrowere full of a wistful misery. With all his heart he admired this manwhom he had yesterday tried to kill, who had to-day saved his life, andin the next breath promised him a thrashing. 

He gave him a grudging hero-worship, even while he hated him; for theman trod the world with the splendor of a young god, and yet was anenemy of the young mistress to whom he owed his full devotion. Pedro'smind was made up. 

If this Gordon laid a whip on him, he would drive a knife into hisheart. 

CHAPTER IX

OF DON MANUEL AND MOONLIGHT

Don Manuel sat curled up in one of the deep window-seats of the livingroom at the Valdés home, and lifted his clear tenor softly in an oldSpanish love-song to the accompaniment of the strumming of a guitar. 

It is possible that the young Spaniard sang the serenade impersonally, as much to the elderly duenna who slumbered placidly on the other sideof the fireplace as to his lovely young hostess. But his eyes toldanother story. They strayed continuously toward that slim, graciousfigure sitting in the fireglow with a piece of embroidery in the longfingers. 

He could look at her the more ardently because she was not looking athim. The fringes of her lids were downcast to the dusky cheeks, thebetter to examine the work upon which she was engaged. 

Don Manuel felt the hour propitious. It was impossible for him not tofeel that in the past weeks somehow he had lost touch with her. Something had come between them; some new interest that threatened hisinfluence. 

But to-night he had again woven the spell of romance around her. As shesat there, a sweet shadowy form touched to indistinctness by the softdusk, he knew her gallant heart had gone with him in the Castilianbattle song he had sung, had remained with him in the transition to themore tender note of love. 

He rose, thumbed a chord or two, then set his guitar down softly. For atime he looked out into the valley swimming in a silvery light, andunder its spell the longing in him came to words. 

"It is a night of nights, my cousin. Is it not that a house is a prisonin such an hour? Let us forth. "

So forth they fared to the porch, and from the porch to the sentinelrock which rose like a needle from the summit of a neighboring hill. Across the sea of silver they looked to the violet mountains, soft andfeatureless in the lowered lights of evening, and both of them felt itearth's hour of supreme beauty. 

"It is good to live--and to know this, " she said at last softly. 

"It is good to live and, best of all, to know you, " he made answerslowly. 

She did not turn from the hills, made no slightest sign that she hadheard; but to herself she was saving: "It has come. "

While he pleaded his cause passionately, with all the ardor ofhot-blooded Spain, the girl heard only with her ears. She was searchingher heart for the answer to the question she asked of it:

"_Is this the man?_"

A month ago she might have found her answer easier; but she felt that insome subtle, intangible way she was not the same girl as the ValenciaValdés she had known then. Something new had come into her life;something that at times exalted her and seemed to make life's currentssweep with more abandon. 

She was at a loss to know what it meant; but, though she would notconfess it even to herself, she was aware that the American was thestimulating cause. He was her enemy, and she detested him; and, in thesame breath with which she would tell herself this, would come that warmbeat of exultant blood she had never known till lately. 

With all his ardor, Don Manuel never quickened her pulses. She likedhim, understood him, appreciated his value. He was certainly veryhandsome, and, without doubt, a brave, courteous gentleman of her ownset with whom she ought to be happy if she loved him. Ah! If she knewwhat love were. 

So, when the torrent of Pesquiera's speech was for the moment dammed, she could only say:

"I don't know, Manuel. "

Confidently he explained away her uncertainty:

"A maiden's love is retiring, shy, like the first flowers of the spring. She doubts it, fears it, hides it, my beloved, like----"

He was just swimming into his vocal stride when she cut him shortdecisively:

"It isn't that way with me, Manuel. I should tell you if I knew. Tell mewhat love is, my cousin, and I may find an answer. "

He was off again in another lover's rhapsody. This time there was asmile almost of amusement in her eyes as she listened. 

"If it is like that, I don't think I love you, Manuel. I don't thinkpoetry about you, and I don't dream about you. Life isn't a desert whenyou are away, though I like having you here. I don't believe I care foryou that way, not if love is what the poets and my cousin Manuel say itis. "

Her eyes had been fixed absently now and again on an approaching wagon. It passed on the road below them, and she saw, as she looked down, thather _vaquero_ Pedro lay in the bottom of it upon some hay. 

"What is the matter? Are you hurt?" she called down. 

The lad who was driving looked up, and flashed a row of white teeth in asmile of reassurance to his mistress. 

"It is Pedro, _doña_. He tried to ride that horse Teddy, and it threwhim. Before it could kill him, the _Americano_ jumped in and saved hislife. "

"What American?" she asked quickly: but already she knew by the swiftbeating of her heart. 

"Señor Muir; the devil fly away with him, " replied the boy loyally. 

Already his mistress was descending toward him with her sure stride, DonManuel and his suit forgotten in the interest of this new development ofthe feud. She made the boy go over the tale minutely, asking questionssometimes when she wanted fuller details. 

Meanwhile, Manuel Pesquiera waited, fuming. Most certainly this fellowGordon was very much in the way. Jealousy began to add its sting to theother reasons good for hastening his revenge. 

When Valencia turned again to her cousin her eyes were starry. 

"He is brave--this man. Is he not?" she cried. 

It happened that Don Manuel, too, was a rider in a thousand. He thoughtthat Fate had been unkind to refuse him this chance his enemy had found. But Pesquiera was a gentleman, and his answer came ungrudgingly:

"My cousin, he is a hero--as I told you before. "

"But you think him base, " she cried quickly. 

"I let the facts speak for me, " he shrugged. 

"Do they condemn him--absolutely? I think not. "

She was a creature of impulse, too fine of spirit to be controlled bythe caution of speech that convention demands. She would do justice toher foe, no matter how Manuel interpreted it. 

What the young man did think was that she was the most adorable anddesirable of earth's dwellers, the woman he must win at all hazards. 

"He came here a spy, under a false name. Surely you do not forget that, Valencia, " he said. 

"I do not forget, either, that we flung his explanations in his face;refused him the common justice of a hearing. Had we given him a chance, all might have been well. "

"My cousin is generous, " Manuel smiled bitterly. 

"I would be just. "

"Be both, my beloved, to poor Manuel Pesquiera, an unhappy wreck on theocean of love, seeking in vain for the harbor. "

"There are many harbors, Manuel, for the brave sailor. If one is closed, another is open. He hoists sail, and beats across the main to anotherport. "

"For some. But there are others who will to one port or none. I am ofthose. "

When she left him it was with the feeling that Don Manuel would be hardhit, if she found herself unable to respond to his love. 

He was not like this American, competent, energetic, full of theturbulent life of a new nation which turns easily from defeat to freshvictory. 

Her heart was full of sympathy, and even pity, for him. But these areonly akin to love. 

It was not long before Valencia began to suspect that she had not beentold the whole truth about the affair of the outlaw horse. There wassome air of mystery, of expectation, among her _vaqueros_. 

At her approach, conversation became suspended, and perceptibly shiftedto other topics. Moreover, Pedro was troubled in his mind, out of allproportion to the extent of his wound. 

She knew it would be no use to question him; but she made occasion soonto send for Juan Gardiez, the lad who had driven him home. 

From the doorway of the living-room, Juan presently ducked a bow at her. 

"The _señorita_ sent for me?"

"Yes. Come in, Juan. Take that chair. "

Now, though Juan had often sat down in the kitchen, he had never beforebeen invited to seat himself in this room. Wherefore, the warm smilethat now met him, and went with the invitation, filled him with a morethan mild surprise. Gingerly he perched himself on the edge of a chair, twirling his dusty sombrero round and round as a relief to hisembarrassment. 

"I am sorry, Juan, that you don't like me or trust me any longer, " hismistress began. 

"But, _doña_, I do, " exclaimed the boy, nearly falling from his chair inamazement. 

She shook her head. 

"No; I can see you don't. None of you do. You keep secrets from me. Youwhisper and hide things. "

"But, no, _señorita_----"

"Yes. I can see it plainly. My people do not love me. I must go awayfrom them, since----"

Juan, having in his tender boyish heart a great love for his _doña_, could not stand this. 

"No, no, no, _señorita_! It is not so. I do assure you it is a mistake. There is nothing about the cattle, nothing about the sheep you do notknow. It is all told--all. "

"_Muy bien_. Yet you conceal what happened yesterday to Pedro. "

"He was thrown----"

She stopped him with a gesture. 

"I don't want to know that again. Tell me what is in the air; what isplanned for Señor Gordon; what Pedro has to do with it? Tell me, orleave me to know my people no longer love me. "

The boy shook his head and let his eyes fall before her clear gaze. 

"I can tell nothing. "

"Look at me, Juan, " she commanded, and waited till he obeyed. "Pedro itwas that shot at this man Gordon. Is it not so?"

His eyes grew wide. 

"Some one has told?" he said questioningly. 

"No matter. It was he. Yesterday the American saved his life. SurelyPedro does not still----"

She did not finish in words, but her eyes chiseled into his stolid willto keep silent. 

"The stranger invites evil. He would rob the _señorita_ and us all. Hehas said he would horsewhip Pedro. He rides up and down the valley, taunting us with his laugh. Is he a god, and are we slaves?"

"He said he would horsewhip Pedro, did he?"

"_Si señorita_; when Pedro told him to take his life, since it was his. "

"And this was after Pedro had been thrown?"

"Directly after. The American is a devil, _doña_. He rode thatman-killer like Satan. Did he not already know that it was Pedro whoshot at him? Is not Pedro a sure shot, and did he not miss twice? Twice, _señorita_; which makes it certain that this _Señor_ Gordon is a devil. "

"Don't talk nonsense, Juan. I want to know how he came to tell Pedrothat he would whip him. "

"He came up to the piazza when he had broken the heart of that otherdevil, the man-killer, and Pedro was sitting there. Then Pedro told himthat he was the one who had shot at him, but he only laughed. He alwayslaughs, this fiend. He knew it already, just as he knows everything. Then it was he said he had saved the boy to whip him. "

"And that is all?"

"_Por Dios_--all" shrugged the lad. 

"Are there others beside you that believe this nonsense about theAmerican being in league with evil?"

"It is not nonsense, _señorita_, begging your pardon, " protested Juanearnestly. "And Ferdinand and Pablo and Sebastian, they all believe it. "

Valencia knew this complicated the situation. These simple peons woulddo, under the impulsion of blind bigotry, what they would hesitate to dootherwise. Let them think him a devil, and they would stick at nothingto remove him. 

Her first thought was that she must keep informed of the movements ofher people. Otherwise she would not be able to frustrate them. 

"Juan, if this man is really what you think, he will work magic todestroy those who oppose him. It will not be safe for any of my peopleto set themselves against him. I know a better way to attack him. I wantto talk with Pablo and Sebastian. You must work with me. If they try todo anything, let me know at once; otherwise they will be in greatdanger. Do you understand?"

"_Si, señorita_. "

"And will you let me know, quietly, without telling them?"

"_Si, señorita_. "

"That is good. Now, I know my Juan trusts and loves his mistress. Youhave done well. Go, now. "

From the point of view of her people the girl knew it was all settled. If the stranger whipped Pedro, the boy would kill him unless he usedmagic to prevent it. If he did use it, they must contrive to nullify hismagic. There was, too, Don Manuel, who would surely strike soon, andhowever the encounter might terminate, it was a thing to dreadmiserably. 

But, though her misery was acute, she was of a temperament too hopefuland impulsive to give up to despair so long as action was possible. While she did not yet know what she could do, she was not one to sitidle while events hurried to a crisis. 

Meantime she had her majordomo order a horse saddled for her to rideover to Corbett's for the mail. 

CHAPTER X

MR. AINSA DELIVERS A MESSAGE

Back to Davis, who had stopped to tighten his saddle-girth, came DickGordon's rather uncertain tenor in rollicking song:

 "Bloomin' idol made o' mud-- Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd-- Plucky lot she cared for idols when I Kissed 'er where she stud!"

"There he goes, advertising himself for a target to every greaser in thecounty. Pity he can't ride along decent, if he's got to ride at all inthese hills, where every gulch may be a trap, " grumbled the old miner. 

He jerked the leather strap down with a final tug, pulled himself to thesaddle, and cantered after his friend. 

 "Elephints a pilin' teak In the sludgy, squdgy creek, Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you Was 'arf afraid to speak!"

"No danger of the silence hanging heavy here while you're around tryingto be a whole opery troupe all by your lonesome, " suggested Davis. "Seems to me if you got to trapse round this here country hunting forthat permanent residence, it ain't necessary to disturb the Sabbath calmso on-feelin'. I don't seem to remember hearing any great demand for anencore after the rendering of the first verse. "

"You do ce'tainly remind me of a lien with one chick, Steve, " laughedDick. 

"I ain't worrying about you none. It's my own scalp kinder hangs looseevery time you make one of your fool-plays, " explained the other. 

"Go pipe that up to your granny. Think I ain't learned my ABC's aboutmy dry-nurse yet?"

"I'm going back to the gold camp to-morrow. "

"You been saying that ever since you came here. Why don't you go, oldCalamity Prophet?"

"Well, I am. Going to-morrow. "

"You've hollered wolf too often, Steve. I'll believe it when I see it. "

"Well, why don't you behave? What's the use of making a holy Caruso ofyourself? Nobody ain't ever pined to hear you tune up, anyhow. "

"All right. Mum's the word, old hoss. I'll be as solemn as if I wasgoing to my own funeral. "

"I ain't persuaded yet you're not. "

"I'm right fully persuaded. Hallo! Stranger visiting at Corbett's. GuessI'll unlimber the artillery. "

They dismounted, and, before turning over his horse to Yeager, Dickunstrapped from the saddle his rifle. Nowadays he never for a moment wasseparated from some weapon of defense. For he knew that an attack uponhis life was almost a certainty in the near future. Though his mannerwas debonair, he saw to it that nobody got a chance to tamper with hisguns. 

"Make you acquainted with Mr. Ramon Ainsa, gentlemen. Mr. Gordon--Mr. Davis, " said Corbett, standing in the doorway in his shirt-sleeves. 

Mr. Ainsa, a very young man with the hint of a black mustache over hisboyish mouth, clicked his heels together and bowed deeply. He expressedhimself as delighted, but did not offer to shake hands. He was so stiffthat Dick wanted to ask him whether the poker he had swallowed wasindigestible. 

"I am the bearer of a message to Mr. Richard Muir Gordon, " he said withanother bow. 

"My name, " acknowledged its owner. "You ain't missed a letter of it. Must have been at the christening, I expect. "

"A message from Don Manuel Pesquiera. "

"Good enough. That's right friendly of him. How's the _don_?"

And Dick, the sparkle of malicious humor gleaming in his eye, shook Mr. Ainsa warmly by the hand, in spite of that gentleman's effort to escape. 

The messenger sidestepped as soon as he could, and began again, veryred:

"Don Manuel considers himself deeply insulted, and desires through me, his friend, to present this note. "

Dick looked at the envelope, and back at the youth who had handed it tohim, after which he crowded in and pump-handled the other's arm again. 

"That's awfully good of him, Mr. 'Tain't-so. "

"My name is Ainsa, at your service, " corrected the New Mexican. 

"Beg pardon--Ainsa. I expect I hadn't ought to have irrigated the _don_so thorough, but it's real good of him to overlook it and write me afriendly note. It's uncommon handsome of him after I disarranged hislaundry so abrupt. "

"If the _señor_ will read the letter--" interrupted the envoydesperately. 

"Certainly. But let me offer you something to drink first, Mr. Ain't-so. "

"Ainsa. "

"Ainsa, I should say. A plain American has to go some to round up andget the right brand on some of these blue-blooded names of yours. What'll it be?"

"Thank you. I am not thirsty. I prefer not. " With which Mr. Ainsaexecuted another bow. 

"Just as you say, colonel. But you'll let me know if you change yourmind. "

Dick indicated a chair to his visitor, and took another himself; thenleisurely opened the epistle and read it. After he had done so he handedit to Davis. 

"This is for you, too, Steve. The _don_ is awfully anxious to have youmeet Mr. Ainsa and have a talk with him, " chuckled Gordon. 

"'To arrange a meeting with your friend, ' Why, it's a duel he means, Dick. "

"That's what I gathered. We're getting right up in society. A duel'smore etiquettish than bridge-whist, Steve. Ain't you honored, beinginvited to one. You're to be my second, you see. "

"I'm hanged if I do, " exploded the old miner promptly. 

"Sho! It ain't hard, when you learn the steps. "

"I ain't going to have nothing to do with it. Tommyrot! That's what Icall it. "

"Don't say it so loud, Steve, or you'll hurt Mr. Ainsa's feelings, "chided his partner. 

"Think I'm going to make a monkey of myself at my age?"

Dick turned mournfully to the messenger of war. 

"I'm afraid it's off, Mr. Ainsa. My second says he won't play. "

"We shall be very glad to furnish you a second, sir. "

"All right, and while you're at it furnish a principal, too. I'm anAmerican. I write my address Cripple Creek, Colorado, U. S. A. We don'tfight duels in my country any more. They've gone out with buckled shoesand knee-pants, Mr. Ainsa. "

"Do I understand that Mr. Gordon declines to meet my friend on the fieldof honor?"

"That's the size of it. "

"I am then instruct' to warn you to go armed, as my friend will punishyour insolence at sight informally. "

It was just at this moment that Mrs. Corbett, flushed with the vainchase of her fleeing brood of chickens, came perspiring round the house. Her large, round person, not designed by nature for such arduousexercise, showed signs of fatigue. 

"I declare, if them chickens ain't got out, and me wanting two forsupper, " she panted, arms on her ample hips. 

"That's too bad. Let me chase them, " volunteered Dick. 

He grasped his rifle, took a quick, careless aim, and fired. Along-legged, flying cockerel keeled over and began to kick. 

"Gracious me!" ejaculated the woman. 

"Two, did you say?" asked the man behind the gun. 

"I said two. "

Again the rifle cracked. A second chicken flopped down, this one withits head shot off at the neck. 

The eyes of the minister of war were large with amazement. The distancehad been seventy yards, if it had been a step. When little JimmieCorbett came running forward with the two dead cockerels a slightexamination showed that the first had also been shot through the neck. 

Dick smiled. 

"Shall I shoot another and send it for a present to Don Manuel, Jimmie?"he pleasantly inquired. 

Mr. Ainsa met his persiflage promptly. 

"I do assure you, _señor_, it will not be at all necesair. Don Manuelcan shoot chickens for himself--and larger game. "

"I'm sure he'll find good hunting, " the other gave him back, looking upgenially. 

"He is a good hunter, _señor_. "

"Don't doubt it a bit, " granted the cordial Anglo-Saxon. "Trouble isthat even the best hunters can't tell whether they are going to bringback the bear, or Mr. Bear is going to get them. That's what makes itexciting, I reckon. "

"Is Don Manuel going bear-hunting?" asked Jimmie, with a newly arousedboy interest. 

"Yes, Jimmie. One's been bothering him right considerable, and he'sgoing gunning for it, " explained Dick. 

"Gee! I hope he gets it. "

"And I hope he don't, " laughed Gordon. "Must you really be going, colonel? Can't I do a thing for you in the refreshment line first? Well, so long. Good hunting for your friend. See him later. "

Thus cheerfully did the irrepressible Gordon speed Mr. Ainsa on his way. 

That young man had somehow the sense of having been too youthful to copewith the gay Gordon. 

 * * * * *

Valencia Valdés had not ridden far when she met Ramon Ainsa returningfrom his mission. He was a sunny young fellow, whom she had known sincethey had been children together. 

It occurred to her that he bore himself in a manner that suggestedsomething important on hand. His boyish mouth was set severely, and hegreeted her with a punctilio quite unusual. At once she jumped shrewdlyto a conclusion. 

"Did you bring our mail back with you from Corbett's?" she innocentlyinquired. 

"Yes, _señorita_. "

"Since when have I been '_señorita_' to you, Ramon?"

"Valencia, I should say. " He blushed. 

"Indeed, I should think so. It hasn't been so long since you called meVal. "

"Ah! Those happy days!" he sighed. 

"Fiddlesticks!" she promptly retorted. "Don't be a goose. You're not inthe sere and yellow yet. Don't forget you'll not be twenty-one till nextmonth. "

"One counts time not by years, but by its fullness, " he said, in themanner of one who could tell volumes if he would. 

"I see. And what has been happening of such tremendous importance?"

Mr. Ainsa attempted to twirl his mustache, and was as silent as honordemanded. 

"Pooh! It's no secret. Did you find Mr. Gordon at home?"

"At home?" he gasped. 

"Well, at Corbett's, then?"

"I didn't know---- Who told you--er----"

"I'm not blind and deaf and dumb, you know. "

"But you certainly have a great deal of imagination, " he said, recovering himself. 

"Not a bit of it. You carried a challenge to this American from DonManuel. Now, I want to know the answer. "

"Really, my dear girl----"

"You needn't try to evade me. I'm going to know, if I stay here allnight. "

"It's a hold-up, as the Americans say, " he joked. 

"I don't care what you call it. You have got to tell me, you know. "

"But I can't tell you, _niña_. It isn't mine to tell. "

"Anyhow, you can't keep me from guessing, " she said, with aninspiration. 

"No, I don't see how I can very well, " he admitted. 

"The American accepted the challenge immediately. "

"But he didn't, " broke out the young man. 

"Then he refused?"

"That's a little obvious now, " replied Ramon, with a touch of chagrin. 

"He was very angry about it, and threatened to call the law to his aid. "

Her friend surrendered at discretion, and broke into a laugh of delight. 

"I never saw such a fellow, Val. He seemed to think it was all a joke. He must have known why I was there, but before I could get in a word hegot hold of my hand and shook it till I wanted to shriek with the pain. He's got a grip like a bear. And he persisted in assuming we were thebest of friends. Wouldn't read the letter at all. "

"But after he did?"

"Said duels were not fashionable among his people any more. "

"He is very sensible, but I'm afraid Manuel won't rest satisfied withthat, " the girl sighed. 

"I hinted as much, and told him to go armed. What do you think themadman did then?"

"I can never guess. "

Ramon retailed the chicken-shooting episode. 

"You were to mention that to Manuel, I suppose?'" the girl saidthoughtfully. 

"So I understood. He was giving fair warning. "

"But Manuel won't be warned. "

"When he hears of it he'll be more anxious than ever to fight. "

Valencia nodded. "A spur to a willing horse. "

"If he knew he would be killed it would make no difference to him. He isquite fearless. "

"Quite. "

"But he is a very good shot, too. You do not need to be alarmed forhim. "

"Oh, no! Not at all, " the girl answered scornfully. "He is only mydistant cousin, anyhow--and my lover. "

"It is hard, Val. Perhaps I might pick a quarrel with this Americanand----"

She caught him up sharply, but he forgave it when he saw her whitemisery. 

"Don't you dare think of it, Ramon Ainsa. One would think nobody in thevalley had any business except fighting with this man. What has he doneto you? Or to these others? You are very brave, all of you, when youknow you are a hundred to one. I suppose _you_, too, will want to shoothim from ambush?"

This bit of feminine injustice hurt the young man, but he only saidquietly:

"No; I don't think I would do that. "

Impulsively she put out her hand. 

"Forgive me, Ramon. I don't mean that, of course, but I'm nearly besidemyself. Why must all this bad will and bloodshed come into our happylittle valley? If we must have trouble why can't we let the law settleit? I thought you were my friends--you and Manuel and my people--butbetween you I am going to be made unhappy for life. "

She broke down suddenly and began to sob. The lad slipped to the groundand went quickly to her, putting an arm around her waist across thesaddle. 

"Don't cry, Val. We all love you--of course we do. How can we help it?It will all come right yet. Don't cry, _niña_"

"How can it come right, with all of you working to make things wrong?"she sobbed. 

"Perhaps the stranger will go away. "

"He won't. He is a man, and he won't let you drive him out. "

"We'll find some way, Val, to save Manuel for you. "

"But it isn't only Manuel. I don't want any of you hurt--you oranybody--not even this Mr. Gordon. Oh, Ramon, help me to stop thiswicked business. "

"If you can tell me how. "

She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, as a sign that her weakness waspast. 

"We must find a way. Do you know, my own people are in a dangerous mood?They think this man's some kind of a demon. I shall talk to themto-night. And you must send Manuel to me. Perhaps he may listen to me. "

Ainsa agreed, though he felt sure that even she could not induce hisfriend to withdraw from a position which he felt his honor called him totake. 

Nor did the mistress of the valley find it easy to lead her tenants toher way of thinking. They were respectful, outwardly acquiescent, butthe girl saw, with a sinking heart, that they remained of their ownopinion. Whether he were man or devil, they were determined to make anend of Gordon's intrusion. 

CHAPTER XI

THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY AND THE TWENTIETH

It was the second day after Pesquiera's challenge that his rival wascalled to Santa Fé, the capital of the State, to hold a conference withhis lawyers about the progress of the suit of ouster against thoseliving on the Moreño grant. Gordon knew how acute was the feeling of theresidents of the valley against him. The Corbetts, whose homestead wasnot included in either the original Valdés or Moreño grant, reporteddaily to him whatever came to their ears. He could see that theimpression was strong among the Mexicans that their champion, Doña Mariaas they called her, would be worsted in the courts if the issue evercame to final trial. 

To live under the constant menace of an attack from ambush is a strainupon the best of nerves. Dick and his friend Davis rode out of thevalley to meet the Santa Fé stage with a very sensible relief. For a fewdays, anyhow, they would be back where they could see the old Stars andStripes flutter, where feudal retainers and sprouts of Spanisharistocracy were not lying in wait with fiery zeal to destroy theAmerican interloper. 

They reached the little city late, but soon after sunup Gordon rose, took a bath, dressed, and strolled out into the quaint old town whichlays claim to being the earliest permanent European settlement in thecountry. It was his first visit to the place, and as he poked his noseinto out of the way corners Dick found every step of his walkinteresting. 

Through narrow, twisted streets he sauntered, along unpaved roadsbounded by century-old adobe houses. His walk took him past the SanMiguel Church, said to be the oldest in America. A chubby-faced littlepriest was watering some geraniums outside, and he showed Dick throughthe mission, opening the door of the church with one of a bunch of largekeys which hung suspended from his girdle. The little man went throughthe usual patter of the guide with the facility of long practice. 

The church was built, he said, in 1540, though Bandelier inaccuratelysets the date much later. The roof was destroyed by the Pueblo Indiansin 1680 during an attack upon the settlement, at which time theinhabitants took refuge within the mission walls. These are from threeto five feet thick. The arrows of the natives poured through thewindows. The señor could still see the holes in the pictures, could henot? Penuelo restored the church in 1710, as could be read by theinscription carved upon the gallery beam. It would no doubt interest theseñor to know that one of the paintings was by Cimabue, done in 1287, and that the seven hundred pound bell was cast in Spain during the year1356 and had been dragged a thousand miles across the deserts of the newworld by the devoted pioneer priests who carried the Cross to the simplenatives of that region. 

Gordon went blinking out of the San Miguel mission into a world thatbasked indolently in a pleasant glow of sunshine. It seemed to him thathere time had stood still. This impression remained with him during histramp back to the hotel. He passed trains of faggot-laden burros, drivenby Mexicans from Tesuque and by Indians from adjoining villages, thelittle animals so packed around their bellies with firewood that theyreminded him of caricatures of beruffed Elizabethan dames of the oldendays. 

Surely this old town, which seemed to be lying in a peaceful siesta forcenturies unbroken, was an unusual survival from the buried yesterdaysof history. It was hard to believe, for instance, that the Governor'sPalace, a long one-story adobe structure stretching across one entireside of the plaza, had been the active seat of so much turbulent andtragic history, that for more than three hundred years it had beenoccupied continuously by Spanish, Mexican, Indian, and Americangovernors. Its walls had echoed the noise of many a bloody siege andhidden many an execution and assassination. From this building the oldSpanish cavaliers Onate and Vicente de Salivar and Penalosa set out ontheir explorations. From it issued the order to execute forty-eightPueblo prisoners upon the plaza in front. Governor Armijo had herepenned his defiance to General Kearney, who shortly afterward nailedupon the flagpole the Stars and Stripes. The famous novel "Ben Hur" waswritten in one of these historic rooms. 

But the twentieth century had leaned across the bridge of time to shakehands with the sixteenth. A new statehouse had been built after thefashion of new Western commonwealths, and the old Palace was now givenover to curio stores and offices. Everywhere the new era compromisedwith the old. He passed the office of the lawyer he had come to consult, and upon one side of the sign ran the legend:

 +---------------------------------+ | Despacho | | de | | Thomas M. Fitt, Licendiado. | +---------------------------------+

Upon the other he read an English translation:

 +---------------------------------+ | Law Office | | of | | Thomas M. Fitt, Attorney. | +---------------------------------+

Plainly the old civilization was beginning to disappear before an alert, aggressive Americanism. 

At the hotel the modern spirit became so pronounced during breakfast, owing to the conversation of a shoe and a dress-goods drummer at anadjoining table, that Gordon's imagination escaped from the tramp ofSpanish mailclad cavalry and from thoughts of the plots and counterplotsthat had been devised in the days before American occupancy. 

In the course of the morning Dick, together with Davis, called at theoffice of his attorney. Thomas M. Fitt, a bustling little man with arather pompous manner, welcomed his client effusively. He had beenappointed local attorney in charge by Gordon's Denver lawyers, and hewas very eager to make the most of such advertising as his connectionwith so prominent a case would bring. 

He washed the backs of his hands with the palms as he bowed his visitorsto chairs. 

"I may say that the case is progressing favorably--very favorablyindeed, Mr. Gordon. The papers have been drawn and filed. We await ananswer from the defendants. I anticipate that there will be only theusual court delays in pressing the action. "

"We'll beat them, I suppose, " Dick replied, with a manner almost ofindifference. 

"One can never be positive in advance, but I'd like to own your claim tothe estate, Mr. Gordon, " laughed the lawyer wheezily. 

"Think we'll be able to wolf the real owners out of their property allright, do you?"

Fitt's smile went out like the flame of a burnt match. The wrinkles oflaughter were ironed out of his fat cheeks. He stared at his client insurprise. It took him a moment to voice the dignified protest he feltnecessary. 

"Our title is good in law, Mr. Gordon. I have been over the evidencevery carefully. The court decisions all lean our way. Don BartoloméValdés, the original grantee, failed to perfect his right of ownershipin many ways. It is very doubtful whether he himself had not before hisdeath abandoned his claim. His official acts appear to point to thatconclusion. Our case is a very substantial one--very substantial, indeed. "

"The Valdés' tenants have settled on the land, grazed their flocks overit, bought farms here and there from the heirs, haven't they?"

"Exactly. But if the sellers cannot show a good title--and my word as alawyer for it they can't. Prove that in court and all we'll need is awrit of ejectment against the present holders as squatters. Then----"Fitt snapped his finger and thumb in an airy gesture that swept theValdés' faction into the middle of the Pacific. 

"It'll be the story of Evangeline all over again, won't it?" askedGordon satirically. 

"Ah! You have a kind heart, Mr. Gordon. Your sympathy does you credit. Still--business is business, of course. "

"Of course, " Dick picked up a pen and began to jab holes aimlessly intoa perfectly good blotter tacked to the table. "Well, let's hear thestory--just a sketch of it. Why do the rightful heirs lose out and thevillain gain possession?"

Mr. Fitt smiled blandly. He had satisfied himself that his client wasgood pay and he did not intend to take offense. "It pleases you to befacetious, Mr. Gordon. But we all know that what this countryneeds--what such a valley as the Rio Chama ought to have--is up to dateAmerican development. People and conditions are in a primitive state. When men like you get possession of the Moreño and similar tracts NewMexico will move forward with giant strides to its great destiny. Timedoes not stand still. The day of the indolent semi-feudal Spanish systemof occupancy has passed away. New Mexico will no longer remain _mañana_land. You--and men like you--of broad ideas, progressive, energetic----"

"Quite a philanthropist, ain't I?" interrupted Gordon, smiling lazily. "Well, let's hear the yarn, Mr. Fitt. "

The attorney gave up his oration regretfully. He subsided into a chairand resumed the conversational tone. 

"You've got to understand how things were here in the old Spanish days, gentlemen. Don Bartolomé for instance was not merely a cattleman. He wasa grandee, a feudal lord, a military chief to all his tenants andemployees. His word was law. The power of life and death lay in him. "

Dick nodded. "Get you. "

"The old Don was pasturing his sheep in the Rio Chama valley and he hadstarted a little village there--called the place Torreon, I think, froma high tower house he had built to overlook the valley so that Indianscould be seen if they attempted an attack. Well, he takes a notion thathe'd better get legal title to the land he was using, though in thosedays he might have had half of New Mexico for his cattle and sheep as arange. So he asks Facundo Megares, governor of the royal province, for agrant of land. The governor, anxious to please him, orders theconstitutional alcalde, a person named José Garcia de la Mora, toexecute the act of possession to Valdés of a tract described as follows, to wit----"

"I've heard the description, " cut in the young man. "Well, did the Dontake possession?"

"We claim that he never did. He visited there, and his shepherdsundoubtedly ran sheep on the range covered by the grant. But Valdés andhis family never actually resided on the estate. Other points thatmilitate against the claim of his descendants may be noted. First, thatminor grants of land, taken from within the original Valdés grant, weremade by the governor without any protest on the part of the Don. Second, that Don Bartolomé himself, subsequently Governor and Captain-General ofthe province of New Mexico, did, in his official capacity as Presidentof the Council, endorse at least two other small grants of land cut outfrom the heart of the Valdés estate. This goes to show that he did nothimself consider that he owned the land, or perhaps he felt that he hadforfeited his claim. "

"Or maybe it just showed that the old gentleman was no hog, " suggestedGordon. 

"I guess the law will construe it as a waiver of his claim. It doesn'tmake any allowances for altruism. "

"I've noticed that, " Gordon admitted dryly. 

"A new crowd of politicians got in after Mexico became independent ofSpain. The plums had to be handed out to the friends of the party inpower. So Manuel Armijo, the last Mexican Governor of the province, being a favorite of the President of that country because he haddefeated some Texas Rangers in a battle, and on that account endowedwith extraordinary powers, carved a fat half million acres out of theValdés grant and made a present of it to José Moreño for 'services tothe government of Mexico. ' That's where you come in as heir to yourgrandfather, who purchased for a song the claim of Moreño's son. "

"My right has been lying dormant twenty-five years. Won't that affectits legality?"

"No. If we knock out the Valdés' grant, all we have to do is to provethe legality of the Moreño one. It happens we have evidence to show thathe satisfied all legal requirements by living on the land more than fouryears. This gave him patent in perpetuity subject to taxes. By thepayment of these we can claim title. " Fitt rubbed his hands and walkedbackward and forward briskly. "We've got them sewed up tight, Mr. Gordon. The Supreme Court has sustained our contention in the almostparallel Baca case. "

"Fine, " said Dick moodily. He knew it was unreasonable for him to beannoyed at his counsel because the latter happened to be an alert andcompetent lawyer. But somehow all his sympathies were with ValenciaValdés and her dependents. 

"If you'd like to look at the original documents in the case, Mr. Gordon----"

"I would. "

"I'll take you up to the State House this afternoon. You can look overthem at your leisure. "

Davis laughed at his friend as they walked back to the hotel. 

"I don't believe you know yourself what you want. You act as if you'drather lose than win the suit. "

"Sometimes I'm a white man, Steve. I don't want to grab other people'sproperty just because some one can dig up a piece of paper that saysit's mine. We sit back and roast the trusts to a fare-you-well forhogging all there is in sight. That's what Fitt and his tribe expect meto do. I'm damned if I will. "

CHAPTER XII

"I BELIEVE YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HER, TOO"

It was characteristic of Dick Gordon that he established at once alittle relation of friendliness between him and the young woman at theState House who waited upon him with the documents in the Valdés grantcase. She was a tall, slight girl with amazingly vivid eyes set in aface scarcely pretty. In her manner to the world at large there was anindifference amounting almost to insolence. She had a way of looking atpeople as if they were bits of the stage setting instead of individuals. 

A flare of interest had sparkled in her eyes when Gordon's fussy littleattorney had mentioned the name of his client, but it had been Dick'sgenial manner of boyish comradeship that had really warmed MissUnderwood to him. She did not like many people, but when she gave herheart to a friend it was without stipulations. Dick was a man's man. Essentially he was masculine, virile, dominant. But the force of him wasusually masked either by his gay impudence or his sunny friendliness. Women were drawn to his flashing smile because they sensed the strengthbehind it. 

Kate Underwood could have given a dozen reasons why she liked him. Therewere for instance the superficial ones. She liked the way he tossed backthe tawny sun-kissed hair from his eyes, the easy pantherish stride withwhich he covered ground so lightly, the set of his fine shoulders, thepeculiar tint of his lean, bronzed cheeks. His laugh was joyous as thesong of a bird in early spring. It made one want to shout with him. Then, too, she tremendously admired his efficiency. To look at the hard, clear eye, at the clean, well-packed build of the man, told the story. The movements of his strong, brown hands were sure and economical. Theydissipated no energy. Every detail of his personality expressed a mindthat did its own thinking swiftly and incisively. 

"It's curious about these documents of the old Valdés and Moreño claims. They have lain here in the vaults--that is, here and at the oldGovernor's Palace--for twenty years and more untouched. Then all at oncetwenty people get interested in them. Scarce a day passes that lawyersare not up to look over some of the copies. You have certainly stirredthings up with your suit, Mr. Gordon. "

Dick looked out of the window at the white adobe-lined streets restingin a placid coma of sun-beat. 

"Don't you reckon Santa Fé can stand a little stirring up, MissUnderwood?"

"Goodness, yes. We all get to be three hundred years old if we live inthis atmosphere long enough. "

The man's gaze shifted. "You'd have to live here a right long time, Ireckon. "

A quick slant of her gay eyes reproached him. "You don't have to be sogallant, Mr. Gordon. The State pays me fifteen hundred dollars a year towait on you, anyhow. "

"You don't say. As much as that? My, we're liable to go bankrupt in NewMexico, ain't we? And, if you want to know, I don't say nice things toyou because I have to, but because I want to. "

She laughed with a pretense at incredulity. "In another day or two I'llfind out just what special favor I'm able to do Mr. Gordon. The regularthing is to bring flowers or candy, you know. Generally they say, too, that there never has been a clerk holding this job as fit for it as Iam. "

"You're some clerk, all right. Say, where can I find the original ofthis _Agua Caliente_ grant, Miss Kate?"

She smiled to herself as she went to get him a certified copy. "Only twodays, and he's using my first name. Inside of a week he'll be calling me'Dearie, '" she thought. But she knew very well there was no danger. Thisyoung fellow was the kind of man that could be informal without theslightest idea of flirting or making love. 

Kate Underwood's interest in the fight between the claimants for theValdés and Moreño grants was not based entirely upon her liking forDick. He learned this the fourth day of his stay in Santa Fé. 

"Do you know that you were followed to the hotel last night, Mr. Gordon?" she asked him, as soon as he arrived at the State House. 

His eyes met hers instantly. "Was I? How do you know?"

"I left the building just after you did. Two Mexicans followed you. Idon't know when I first suspected it, but I trailed along to make sure. There can be no doubt about it. "

"Not a bit of doubt. Found it out the first day when I left the hotel, "he told her cheerfully. 

"You knew it all the time, " she cried, amazed. 

"That doesn't prevent me from being properly grateful to you for yourkindness, " he hastened to say. 

"What are they following you for?" she wanted to know. 

Dick told her something of his experiences in the Rio Chama Valleywithout mentioning that part of them which had to do with Miss Valdés. At the sound of Manuel Pesquiera's name the eyes of the girl flashed. Dick had already noticed that his name was always to her a signal forrepression of some emotion. The eyes contracted and hardened the leastin the world. Some men would not have noticed this, but more than onceGordon's life had hung upon the right reading of such signs. 

"You think that Mr. Pesquiera has hired them to watch you?" shesuggested. 

"Maybe he has and maybe he hasn't. Some of those willing lads of MissValdés don't need any hiring. They want to see what I'm up to. They'renot overlooking any bets. "

"But they may shoot you. "

He looked at her drolly. "They may, but I'll be there at the time. I'mnot sleeping on the job, Miss Kate. "

"You didn't turn around once yesterday. "

"Hmp! I saw them out of the edge of my eyes. And when I turned a cornerI always saw them mighty plain. They couldn't have come very closewithout my knowing it. "

"Don Manuel is very anxious to have Miss Valdés win, isn't he?"

Dick observed that just below the eyes two spots were burning in theusually pale cheeks. 

"Yes, " he answered simply. 

"Why?"

"He's her friend and a relative. "

It seemed to Gordon that there was a touch of defiance in the eyes thatheld to his so steadily. She was going to find out the truth, no matterwhat he thought. 

"Is that all--nothing more than a friend or a relative?"

The miner's boyish laugh rippled out. "You'd ought to have been alawyer, Miss Kate. No, that ain't all Don Manuel doesn't make any secretof it. I don't know why I should. He wants to be prince consort of theValdés kingdom. "

"Because of . .. The estate?"

"Lord, no! He's one man from the ground up, M. Pesquiera is. In spite ofthe estates. "

"You mean that he . .. Loves Valencia Valdés?"

"Sure he does. Manuel doesn't care much who gets the kingdom if he getsthe princess. "

"Is she so . .. Pretty?"

Dick stopped to consider this. "Why, yes, I reckon she is pretty, thoughI hadn't thought of it before. You see, pretty ain't just the word. She's a queen. That is, she looks like a queen ought to but don't. Takeher walk for instance: she steps out like as if in another moment shemight fly. "

"That doesn't mean anything. It's almost silly, " replied the downrightMiss Underwood, not without a tinge of spite. 

"It means something to me. I'm trying to give you a picture of her. Butyou'd have to see her to understand. When she's around mean and littlethings crawl out of your mind. She's on the level and square and fine--athoroughbred if there ever was one. "

"I believe you're in love with her, too. "

The young man found himself blushing. "Now don't get to imaginingfoolishness. Miss Valdés hates the ground I walk on. She thinks I'm thelimit, and she hasn't forgotten to tell me so. "

"Which, of course, makes you fonder of her, " scoffed Miss Underwood. "Does she hate the ground that Don Manuel walks on?"

"Now you've got me. I go to the foot of the class, because I don'tknow. "

"But you wish you did, " she flung at him, with a swift side glance. 

"Guessing again, Miss Kate. I'll sure report you if you waste theState's time on such foolishness, " he threatened gaily. 

"Since you're in love with her, why don't you marry Miss Valdés andconsolidate the two claims?" demanded the girl. 

Her chin was tilted impudently toward him, but Gordon guessed that therewas an undercurrent of meaning in her audacity. 

"What commission do you charge for running your matrimonial bureau?" heasked innocently. 

"The service comes free to infants, " she retorted sweetly. 

She was called away to attend to other business. An hour later shepassed the desk where he was working. 

"So you think I'm an infant at that game, do you?"

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, " was her saucy answer. 

"You haven't--not a mite. What about Don Manuel? Is he an infant at it, too?"

A sudden flame of color swept her face. The words she flung at Gordonseemed irrelevant, but he did not think them so. "I hate him. "

And with that she was gone. 

Dick's eyes twinkled. He had discovered another reason for her interestin his fortunes. 

Later in the day, when the pressure of work had relaxed, the clerkdrifted his way again while searching for some papers. 

"Your lawyers are paid to look up all this, aren't they? Why do you doit, then?" she asked. 

"The case interests me. I want to know all about it. "

"Would you like to see the old Valdés house here in Santa Fé? My fatherbought it when Alvaro Valdés built his new town house. One day I foundin the garret a bundle of old Spanish letters. They were written by oldBartolomé to his son. I saved them. Would you care to see them?"

"Very much. The old chap was a great character. I suppose he was reallythe last of the great feudal barons. The French Revolution put an end tothem in Europe--that and the industrial revolution. It's rather amazingthat out here in the desert of this new land dedicated to democracy theidea was transplanted and survived so long. "

"I'll bring the letters to-morrow and you can look them over. Any timeyou like I'll show you over the house. It's really ratherinteresting--much more so than their new one, which is so modern that itlooks like a thousand others. Valencia was born in the old house. Whatwill you give me to let you into the room?"

He brushed aside her impudence with a laugh. "Your boss is looking thisway. I think he's getting ready to fire you. "

"He's more likely to be fired himself. I'm under civil service and heisn't. Will you take your shoes off when you go into the holy ofholies?"

"What happens to little girls when they ask too many questions? Go 'way. I'm busy. "

CHAPTER XIII

AMBUSHED

On her return from luncheon that same afternoon Miss Underwood broughtDick a bundle of letters tied with a ribbon. She tossed them down uponthe desk in front of him. 

"I haven't read them myself. Of course they're in Spanish. I did try toget through one of them, but it was too much like work and I gave it up. But since they're written by _her_ grandfather they'll interest you morethan they did me, " Miss Kate told him, with the saucy tilt to her chinthat usually accompanied her impudence. 

He had lived in Chihuahua three years as a mining engineer, so that hespoke and read Spanish readily. The old Don wrote a stiff angular hand, but as soon as he became accustomed to it Dick found little difficulty. Some of the letters were written from the ranch, but most of themcarried the Santa Fé date line at the time the old gentleman wasgovernor of the royal province. They were addressed to his son Alvaro, at that time a schoolboy in Mexico City. Clearly Don Bartolomé intendedhis son to be informed as to the affairs of the province, for theletters were a mine of information in regard to political and socialconditions. They discussed at length, too, the business interests of thefamily and the welfare of the peons dependent upon it. 

All afternoon Gordon pored over these fascinating pages torn from a deadand buried past. They were more interesting than any novel he had everread, for they gave him a photograph, as it were projected by hisimagination upon a moving picture canvas, of the old regime that hadbeen swept into the ash heap by modern civilization. The lettersrevealed the old Don frankly. He was proud, imperious, heady, andintrepid. To his inferiors he was curt but kind. They flocked to himwith their troubles and their quarrels. The judgment of their overlordwas final with his tenants. Clearly he had a strong sense of hisresponsibilities to them and to the state. A quaint flavor of old-worldcourtesy ran through the letters like a thread of gold. 

It was a paragraph from one of the last letters that riveted Dick'sattention. Translated into English, it ran as follows:

 "You ask, my dear son, whether I have relinquished the great grant made us by Facundo Megares. In effect I have. During the past two years I have twice, acting as governor, conveyed to settlers small tracts from this grant. The conditions under which such a grant must be held are too onerous. Moreover, neither I nor you, nor your son, nor his son will live to see the day when there is not range enough for all the cattle that can be brought into the province. Just now time presses, but in a later letter I shall set forth my reasons in detail. "

A second and a third time Dick read the paragraph to make sure that hehad not misunderstood it. The meaning was plain. There could be no doubtabout it. In black and white he had a statement from old Don Bartoloméhimself that he considered the grant no longer valid, that he had givenit up because he did not think it worth holding. He had but to prove thehandwriting in court--a thing easy enough to do, since the Don's bold, stiff writing could be found on a hundred documents--and the Valdésclaimants would be thrown out of possession. 

Gordon looked in vain for the "later letter" to which Bartoloméreferred. Either it had never been written or it had been destroyed. Butwithout it he had enough to go on. 

Before he left the State House he made a proposal to Miss Underwood tobuy the letters from her. 

"What do you want with a bunch of old letters?" she asked. 

"One of them helps my case. The Don refers to the grant and says he hasrelinquished his claim. "

She nodded at him with brisk approval. "It's fair of you to tell methat. " The girl stood for a moment considering, a pencil pressed againsther lips. "I suppose the letters are not mine to give. They belong tofather. Better see him. "

"Where?"

"At the office of the _New Mexican_. Or you can come to the houseto-night. "

"Believe I'll see him right away. "

Within half an hour Dick had bought the bundle of letters for fivehundred dollars. He returned to the State House with an order to KateUnderwood to deliver them to him upon demand. 

"Dad make a good bargain?" asked Miss Underwood, with a laugh. 

Gordon told her the price he had paid. 

"If I had telephoned to him what you wanted them for they would havecost you three times as much, " she told him, nodding sagely. 

"Then I'm glad you didn't. Point of fact you haven't the slightest ideawhat I want with them. "

"To help your suit. Isn't that what you're going to use them for?"

Mildly he answered "Yes, " but he did not tell her which suit they wereto help. 

As he was leaving she spoke to him without looking up from her writing. "Mother and I will be at home this evening, if you'd like to look thehouse over. "

"Thanks. I'd be delighted to come. I'm really awfully interested. "

"I see you are, " she answered dryly. 

Followed by his brown shadows at a respectful distance, Dick walked backto the hotel whistling gaily. 

"Some one die and leave you a million dollars, son?" inquired the oldminer, with amiable sarcasm. 

"Me, I'm just happy because I'm not a Chink, " explained his friend, andpassed to the hotel writing-room. 

He sat down, equipped himself with stationery, and selected a new pointfor a pen. Half a dozen times he made a start and as often threw acrumpled sheet into the waste-paper basket. It took him nearly an hourto compose an epistle that suited him. What he had finally to contenthimself with was as follows:

 "DEAR MADAM:--Please find inclosed a bundle of letters that apparently belong to you. They have just come into my possession. I therefore send them to you without delay. Your attention is particularly called to the one marked 'Exhibit A. '

 "Very truly yours, RICHARD MUIR GORDON. "

He wrapped up the letters, including his own, sealed the packagecarefully, and walked downtown to the post office. Here he wrote uponthe cover the name and address of Miss Valencia Valdés, then registeredthe little parcel with a request for a signed receipt after delivery atits destination. 

Davis noticed that at dinner his friend was more gay than usual. 

"You ce'tainly must have come into that million I mentioned, judging byyour actions, " he insisted, with a smile. 

"Wrong guess, Steve. I've just been giving away a million. That's whyI'm hilarious. "

"You'll have to give me an easier one, son. Didn't know you had amillion. "

"Oh, well! A million, or a half, or a quarter, whatever the Moreño claimis worth. I'm not counting nickels. An hour ago I had it in my fist. I've just mailed it, very respectfully yours, to my friend the enemy. ""Suppose you talk simple American that your Uncle Steve can understand, boy. What have you been up to?"

Dick told him exultantly. 

"But, good Lord, why for did you make such a play? You had 'em where thewool was short. Now you've let loose and you'll have to wait 'steenyears while the courts eat up all the profits. Of all the mule-headedchumps----"

"Hold your horses, Steve. I know what I'm doing. Said I was a spy and athief and a liar, didn't she? Threw the hot shot into me proper for acheap skate swindler, eh?" The young man laid down his knife, leanedacross the table, and wagged a forefinger at Davis. "What do you reckonthat young woman is going to think of herself when she opens thatregistered package and finds the letter that would have put the rollersunder her claim _muy pronto?_"

"Think! She'll think you the biggest burro that ever brayed on the SanJacinto range. She'll have a commission appointed to examine you forlunacy. What in Mexico is ailin' you, anyhow? You're sick. That's what'swrong. Love-sick, by Moses!" exploded his friend. 

Dick smiled blandly. "You've got another guess coming, Steve. She'sgoing to eat dirt because she misjudged me so. She's going to lie awakenights and figure what play she can make to get even again. Getting holdof those blamed letters is the luckiest shot I've made yet. I was inbad--darned bad. Explanations didn't go. I was just a plain orneryskunk. Then I put over this grand-stand play and change the wholesituation. She's the one that's in bad now. Didn't she tell me right offthe bat what kind of a hairpin I was? Didn't she drive me off the ranchwith that game leg of mine all to the bad? Good enough. Now she findsout I'm a white man she's going to be plumb sore at herself. "

"What good does that do you? You're making a fight for the Rio ChamaValley, ain't you? Or are you just having a kid quarrel with a girl?"

"I wouldn't take the Rio Chama Valley as a gift if I had to steal itfrom Miss Valdés and her people. Ain't I making enough money up atCripple Creek for my needs? No, Steve! I'm playing for bigger game thanthat. Size up my hand beside Don Manuel's, and it looks pretty bum. ButI'm going to play it strong. Maybe at the draw I'll fill. "

"Mebbe you won't. "

"I can bet it like I had an ace full, can't I? Anybody can play pokerwhen he's got a mitt full of big ones. Show me the man that can make twopair back an all-blue hand off the map. "

"Go to it, you old sport. My money's on you, " grinned the mineradmiringly. "I'll go order a wedding present. "

Through the pleasant coolness of the evening Dick sauntered along thestreets to the Underwood home, nor was his contentment lessened becausehe knew that at a safe distance the brown shadows still dogged hissteps. In a scabbard fitted neatly beneath his left arm rested a goodfriend that more than once had saved its owner's life. To the fractionof a second Gordon knew just how long it would take him to get this intoaction in case of need. 

Kate Underwood met him at the door and took her guest into theliving-room. Beside a student lamp a plump little old lady sat knitting. Somehow even before her soft voice welcomed him the visitor knew thather gentle presence diffused an atmosphere of home. 

"Thee is welcome, Mr. Gordon. Kate has been telling us of thee. "

The young man gave no evidence of surprise, but Kate explained as amatter of course. 

"We are Friends, and at home we still use the old way of address. "

"I have very pleasant memories of the Friends. A good old lady who tookthe place of my own mother was one. It is nice to hear the speechagain, " answered Gordon. 

Presently the conversation drifted to the Valdés family. It appearedthat as children Kate and Valencia had known each other. The heiress ofthe Valdés estates had been sent to Washington to school, and later hadattended college in the East. Since her return she had spent most of hertime in the valley. So that it happened the two young women had not metfor a good many years. 

It occurred to Dick that there was a certain aloofness in MissUnderwood's attitude toward Valencia, a reticence that was not quiteunfriendliness but retained the right of criticism. She held herjudgment as it were in abeyance. 

While Miss Underwood was preparing some simple refreshments Gordonlearned from her mother that Manuel Pesquiera had been formerly afrequent caller. 

"He has been so busy since he moved down to his place on the Rio Chamathat we see nothing of him, " she explained placidly. "He is a fine typeof the best of the old Spanish families. Thee would find him a goodfriend. "

"Or a good foe, " the young man added. 

She conceded the point with a sigh. "Yes. He is testy. He has the oldpatrician pride. "

After they had eaten cake and ice cream, Kate showed Gordon over thehouse. It was built of adobe, and the window seats in the thick wallswere made comfortable with cushions or filled with potted plants. Navajorugs and Indian baskets lent the rooms the homey appearance suchfurnishings always give in the old Southwest. The house was built arounda court in the center, fronting on which were long, shaded balconiesboth on the first and second floor. A profusion of flowering trailersrioted up the pillars and along the upper railing. 

"The old families knew how to make themselves comfortable, anyhow, "commented the guest. 

"Yes, that's the word--comfort. It's not modern or stylish or up todate, but I never saw a house really more comfortable to live in thanthis, " Miss Underwood agreed. She led the way through a French windowfrom the veranda to a large room with a southern exposure. "How do youlike this room?"

"Must catch the morning sunshine fine. I like even the old stonefireplace in the corner. Why don't builders nowadays make such rooms?"

"You've saved yourself, Mr. Gordon. This is _the sacred room_. Here thePrincess of the Rio Chama was born. This was her room when she was agirl until she went away to school. She slept in that very bed. Down onyour knees, sir, and worship at the shrine. "

He met with a laugh the cool, light scorn of her banter. Yet somethingin him warmed to his environment. He had the feeling of having come intomore intimate touch with her past than he had yet done. The sight ofthat plain little bed went to the source of his emotions. How many timeshad his love knelt beside it in her night-gown and offered up her pureprayers to the God she worshiped!

He made his good-byes soon after their return to Mrs. Underwood. Dickwas a long way from a sentimentalist, but he wanted to be alone andadjust his mind to the new conception of his sweetheart brought by herchildhood home. It was a night of little moonlight. As he walked towardthe hotel he could see nothing of the escort that had been his duringthe past few days. He wondered if perhaps they had got tired ofshadowing his movements. 

The road along which he was passing had on both sides of it a row of bigcottonwoods, whose branches met in an arch above. Dick, with thatinstinct for safety which every man-hunter has learned, walked down themiddle of the street, eyes and ears alert for the least sign of anambush. 

Two men approached on the plank sidewalk. They were quarreling. Suddenlya knife flashed, and one of the men went with an oath to the ground. Dick reached for his gun and plunged straight for the assailant, who hadstooped as if to strike again the prostrate man. The rescuer stumbledover a taut rope and at the same moment a swarm of men fell upon him. Even as he rose and shook off the clutching hands Gordon knew that hewas the victim of a ruse. 

He had lost his revolver in the fall. With clenched fists he struck hardand sure. They swarmed upon him, so many that they got in each other'sway. Now he was down, now up again. They swayed to and fro in a huddle, as does a black bear surrounded by a pack of dogs. Still the man at theheart of the mêlée struck--and struck--and struck again. Men went downand were trodden under foot, but he reeled on, stumbling as he went, turning, twisting, hitting hard and sure with all the strength that manygood clean years in the open had stored within him. Blows fell upon hiscurly head as it rose now and again out of the storm--blows of guns, ofknives, of bony knuckles. Yet he staggered forward, bleeding, exhausted, feeling nothing of the blows, seeing only the distorted faces thatsnarled on every side of him. 

He knew that when he went down it would be to stay. Even as he flungthem aside and hammered at the brown faces he felt sure he was lost. Thecoat was torn from his back. The blood from his bruised and cut face andscalp blinded him. Heavy weights dragged at his arms as they struckwildly and feebly. Iron balls seemed to chain his feet. He ploweddoggedly forward, dragging the pack with him. Furiously they beat him, striking themselves as often as they did him. His shoulders began tosway forward. Men leaped upon him from behind. Two he dragged down withhim as he went. The sky was blotted out. He was tired--deadly tired. Ina great weariness he felt himself sinking together. 

The consciousness drained out of him as an ebbing wave does from thesands of the shore. 

CHAPTER XIV

MANUEL TO THE RESCUE

Valencia Valdés did not conform closely to the ideal her preceptress atthe Washington finishing school had held as to what constitutes aperfect lady. Occasionally her activities shocked Manuel, who held tothe ancient view that maidens should come to matrimony with theinnocence born of conventual ignorance. He would have preferred his wifeto be a clinging vine, but in the case of Valencia this would beimpossible. 

No woman in New Mexico could ride better than the heiress of the RioChama. She could throw a rope as well as some of her _vaqueros_. Atleast one bearskin lay on the floor of her study as a witness to herprowess as a Diana. Many a time she had fished the river in waders andbrought back with her to the ranch a creel full of trout. Years in theuntempered sun and wind of the southwest had given her a sturdiness ofbody unusual in a girl so slenderly fashioned. The responsibility oflarge affairs had added to this an independence of judgment that wouldhave annoyed Don Manuel if he had been less in love. 

Against the advice of both Pesquiera and her foreman she had about ayear before this time largely increased her holdings in cattle, at thesame time investing heavily in improved breeding stock. Herjustification had been that the cost of beef, based on the law of supplyand demand, was bound to continue on the rise. 

"But how do you know, _Doña_?" her perplexed major domo had asked. "Twenty--fifteen years ago everybody had cattle and lost money. Pricesare high to-day, but _mañana_----"

"To-morrow they will be higher. It's just a matter of arithmetic, Fernando. There are seventeen million less cattle in the country thanthere were eight years ago. The government reports say so. Ourpopulation is steadily increasing. The people must eat. Since there arefewer cattle they must pay more for their meat. We shall have meat tosell. Is that not simple?"

"_Si, Doña_, but----"

"But in the main we have always been sheep-herders, so we ought alwaysto be? We'll run cattle and sheep, too, Fernando. We'll make this ranchpay as it never has before. "

"But the feed--the winter feed, _Señorita_?"

"We'll have to raise our feed. I'm going to send for engineers and findwhat it will cost to impound, water in the _cordilleras_ and run ditchesinto the valley. We ought to be watering thousands of acres for alfalfaand grain that now are dry. "

"It never has been done--not in the time of Don Alvaro or even in thatof Don Bartolomé. "

"And so you think it never can?" she asked, with a smile. 

"The Rio Chama Valley is grazing land. It is not for agriculture. Everybody knows that, " he insisted doggedly. 

"Everybody knows we were given two legs with which to walk, but it is aneconomy to ride. So we use horses. "

Fernando shrugged his shoulders. Of what use to argue with the _doña_when her teeth were set? She was a Valdés, and so would have her way. 

That had been a year ago. Now the ditches were built. Fields had beenplanted to alfalfa and grain. Soon the water would be running throughthe laterals to irrigate the growing crops. Quietly the young woman atthe head of things was revolutionizing the life of the valley bytransforming it from a pastoral to a farming community. 

This morning, having arranged with the major domo the work of the day, Valencia appeared on the porch dressed for riding. She was going to seethe water turned on to the new ditches from the north lateral. 

The young mistress of the ranch swung astride the horse that had justbeen brought from the stables, for she rode man-fashion after thesensible custom of the West. Before riding out of the plaza she stoppedto give Pedro some directions about a bunch of yearlings in the corral. 

The mailman in charge of the R. F. D. Route drove into the yard and handedValencia a bunch of letters and papers. One of the pieces given her wasa rather fat package for which she had to sign a registry receipt. 

She handed the mail to Juan and told him to put it on the desk in heroffice library; then she changed her mind, moved by an impulse offeminine curiosity. 

"Give me back that big letter, Juan. I'll just see what it is before Igo. "

Five minutes later she descended to the porch. "I'm not going ridingjust now. Keep the horse saddled, Pedro. " She had read Dick Gordon'snote and the letter marked Exhibit A. Even careless Juan noticed thathis mistress was much agitated. Pedro wondered savagely whether thatsplendid devil _Americano_ had done something fresh to annoy the dearsaint he worshiped. 

Gordon had not overemphasized the effect upon her of his action. Herpride had clung to a belief in his unworthiness as the justification forwhat she had said and done. Now, with a careless and mocking laugh, hehad swept aside all the arguments she had nursed. He had sent to her, sothat she might destroy it, the letter that would have put her case outof court. If he had wanted a revenge for her bitter words the Americanhad it now. He had repaid her scorn and contempt with magnanimity. Hehad heaped coals of fire upon her head, had humiliated her by provingthat he was more generous of spirit than she. 

Valencia paced the floor of her library in a stress of emotion. It wasnot her pride alone that had been touched, but the fine instincts ofjustice and fair play and good will. She had outraged hospitality andsent him packing. She had let him take the long tramp in spite of hisbad knee. Her dependents had attempted to murder him. Her best friendhad tried to fasten a duel upon him. All over the valley his name hadbeen bandied about as that of one in league with the devil. As an answerto all this outrage that had been heaped upon him he refused to takeadvantage of this chance-found letter of Bartolomé merely because it washer letter and not his. Her heart was bowed down with shame and yet waslifted in a warm glow of appreciation of his quality. Something in herblood sang with gladness. She had known all along that the hatefulthings she had said to him could not be true. He was her enemy, but--thebrave spirit of her went out in a rush to thank God for this proof ofhis decency. 

The girl was all hot for action. She wanted to humble herself inapology. She wanted to show him that she could respond to hisgenerosity. But how? Only one way was open just now. 

She sat down and wrote a swift, impulsive letter of contrition. For thewrong she had done him Valencia asked forgiveness. As for the letter hehad so generously sent, she must beg him to keep it and use it at theforthcoming trial. It would be impossible for her to accept such asacrifice of his rights. In the meantime she could assure him that shewould always be sorry for the way in which she had misjudged him. 

The young woman called for her horse again and rode to Corbett's, whichwas the nearest post-office. In the envelope with her letter was alsothe one of her grandfather marked "Exhibit A. " She, too, carefullyregistered the contents before mailing. 

As she stood on the porch drawing up her gauntlets a young man canteredinto sight. He wore puttees, riding breeches, and a neat corduroy coat. One glance told her it was Manuel. No other rider in the valley hadquite the same easy seat in the saddle as the young Spaniard. He drew upsharply in front of Valencia and landed lightly on his feet beside her. 

"_Buenos, Señorita_. "

"_Buenos, _ cousin. " Her shining eyes went eagerly to his. "Manuel, whatdo you think Mr. Gordon has done?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "How can I guess? That mad American might doanything but show the white feather. "

In four sentences she told him. 

Manuel clapped his hands in approval. "Bravo! Done like a man. He is atleast neither a spy nor a thief. "

Valencia smiled with pleasure. Manuel, too, had come out of the testwith flying colors. He and Gordon were foes, but he accepted at facevalue what the latter had done, without any sneers or any sign ofjealousy. 

"And what shall I do with the letter?" his cousin asked. 

"Do with it? Put it in the first fire you see. Shall I lend you amatch?"

She shook her head, still with the gleam of a smile on her vivid face. "Too late, Manuel. I have disposed of the dangerous evidence. "

"So? Good. You took my advice before I gave it, then. "

"Not quite. I couldn't be less generous than our enemy. So I have sentthe letter back to him and told him to use it. "

The young man gave her his best bow. "Magnificent, but not war. I mighthave trusted the daughter of Don Alvaro to do a thing so royal. Mycousin, I am proud of you. "

"What else could I have done and held my self-respect? I had insultedhim gratuitously and my people had tried to kill him. The least I coulddo now was to meet him in a spirit like his own. "

"Honors are easy. Let us see what Mr. Gordon will now do. "

The sound of a light footfall came to them. A timid voice broke intotheir conversation. 

"May I see _Doña_ Valencia--alone--for just a minute?"

Miss Valdés turned. A girl was standing shyly in the doorway. Her softbrown eyes begged pardon for the intrusion. 

"You are Juanita, are you not?" the young woman asked. 

"_Si, Doña_. "

Pesquiera eliminated himself by going in to get his mail. 

"What is it that I can do for you?" asked Valencia. 

The Mexican girl broke into an emotional storm. She caught one of herhands in the brown palm of the other with a little gesture of despair. 

"They have gone to kill him. Doña. I know it. Something tells me. Hewill never come back alive. " The feeling she had repressed was findingvent in long, irregular sobs. 

Valencia felt as if she were being drowned in icy water. The colorwashed from her cheeks. She had no need to ask who it was that wouldnever come back alive, but she did. 

"Who, child? Whom is it that they have gone to kill?"

"The American--_Señor_ Gordon. "

"Who has gone? And when did they go? Tell me quick. "

"Sebastian and Pablo--maybe others--I do not know. "

Miss Valdés thought quickly. It might be true. Both the men mentionedhad asked for a holiday to go to Santa Fé. What business had they thereat this time of the year? Could it be Pablo who had shot at Gordon fromambush? If so, why was he so bitter against the common enemy?

"Juanita, tell me everything. What is it that you know?"

The sobs of the girl increased. She leaned against the door jamb andburied her face in the crook of her arm. 

The older girl put an arm around the quivering shoulders and spokegently. "But listen, child. Tell me all. It may be we can save him yet. "

A name came from the muffled lips. It was "Pablo. "

Valencia's brain was lit by a flash of understanding. "Pablo is yourlover. Is it not so, _niña_?"

The dark crown of soft hair moved up and down in assent. "Oh, _Doña_, hewas, but--"

"You have quarreled with him?"

Miss Valdés burned with impatience, but some instinct told her she couldnot hurry the girl. 

"_Si, Señorita_. He quarreled. He said--"

"Yes?"

"----that . .. That _Señor_ Gordon . .. "

Again, groping for the truth, Valencia found it swiftly. 

"You mean that Pablo was jealous?"

"Because I had nursed _Señor_ Gordon, because he was kind to me, because----" Juanita had lifted her face to answer. As she spoke thecolor poured into her cheeks even to her throat, convicting evidence ofthe cruel embarrassment she felt. 

Valencia's hand dropped to her side. When she spoke again the warmth hadbeen banished from her voice. "I see. You nursed Mr. Gordon, did you?"

Juanita's eyes fell before the cold accusation in those of Miss Valdés. "_Si, Señorita. _"

"And he was kind to you? In what way kind?"

The slim Mexican girl, always of the shyest, was bathed in blushes. "Hecalled me . .. _niña_. He . .. "

"----made love to you. "

A sensation as if the clothes were being torn from her afflictedJuanita. Why did the _Doña_ drag her heart out to look at it? Nor didthe girl herself know how much or how little Richard Gordon's gay_camaraderie_ meant. She was of that type of women who love all that arekind to them. No man had ever been so considerate as this handsomecurly-headed American. So dumbly her heart went out to him and made themost of his friendliness. Had he not once put his arm around hershoulder and told her to "buck up" when he came upon her crying becauseof Pedro? Had he not told her she was the prettiest girl in theneighborhood? And had he not said, too, that she was a little angel fornursing him so patiently?

"_Doña_, I--do--not--know. " The words came out as if they were beingdragged from her. Poor Juanita would have liked the ground to open upand swallow her. 

"Don't you know, you little stupid, that he is playing with you, that hewill not marry you?"

"If _Doña_ Valencia says so, " murmured the Mexican submissively. 

"Men are that way, heartless . .. Selfish . .. Vain. But I suppose you ledhim on, " concluded Valencia cruelly. 

With a little flare of spirit Juanita looked up. Her courage was for herfriend, not for herself. 

"_Señor_ Gordon is good. He is kind. "

"A lot you know about it, child. Have nothing to do with him. His lovecan only hurt a girl like you. Go back to your Pablo and forget theAmerican. I will see he does not trouble you again. "

Juanita began to cry again. She did not want _Señorita_ Valdés oranybody else interfering between her and the friend she had nursed. Butshe knew she could not stop this imperative young woman from doing asshe pleased. 

"Now tell me how you know that Pablo has gone to injure the American. Did he tell you so?"

"No-o. "

"Well, what did he say? What is it that you know?" Valencia's shoetapped the floor impatiently. "Tell me--tell me!"

"He--Pablo--met me at the corral the day he left. I was in the kitchenand he whistled to me. " Juanita gave the information sullenly. Whyshould _Señorita_ Valdés treat her so harshly? She had done no wrong. 

"Yes. Go on!"

If she had had the force of character Juanita would have turned on herheel and walked away. But all her life it had been impressed upon herthat the will of a Valdés was law to her and her class. 

"I do not know . .. Pablo told me nothing . .. But he laughed at me, oh, so cruelly! He asked if I . .. Had any messages for my Gringo lover. "

"Is that all?"

"All . .. Except that he would show me what happened to foreign devilswho stole my love from him. Oh, _Señorita_, do you think he will killthe American?"

Valencia, her white lips pressed tightly together, gave no answer. Shewas thinking. 

"I hate Pablo. He is wicked. I will never speak to him again, " moanedJuanita helplessly. 

Manuel, coming out of the post-office with his mail, looked at theweeping girl incuriously. It was, he happened to know, a habit of thesex to cry over trifles. 

Juanita found in a little nod from Miss Valdés permission to leave. Sheturned and walked hurriedly away to the adobe cabin where she slept. Before she reached it the walk had become a run. 

"Has the young woman lost a ribbon or a lover?" commented Pesquiera, with a smile. 

"Manuel, I am worried, " answered Valencia irrelevantly. 

"What about, my cousin?"

"It's this man Gordon again. Juanita says that Pablo and Sebastian havegone to kill him. "

"Gone where?"

"To Santa Fé. They asked for a leave of absence. You know how sullen andsuspicious Sebastian is. It is fixed firmly in his head that Mr. Gordonis going to take away his farm. "

Manuel's black eyes snapped. He did not propose to let any peons stealfrom him the punishment he owed this insolent Gordon. 

"But Pablo is not a fool. Surely he knows he cannot do such a madthing. "

"Pablo is jealous--and hot-headed. " The angry color mounted to thecheeks of the young woman. "He is in love with Juanita and he found outthis stranger has been philandering with her. It is abominable. ThisGordon has made the silly little fool fall in love with him. "

"Oh, if Pablo is jealous----" Pesquiera gave a little shrug of hisshoulders. He understood pretty well the temperament of the ignorantMexican. The young lover was likely to shoot first and think afterward. 

Valencia was still thinking of the American. Beneath the olive of hercheeks two angry spots still burned. "I detest that sort of thing. Ithought he was a gentleman--and he is only a male flirt . .. Or worse. "

"Perhaps--and perhaps not, my cousin. Did Juanita tell you----?"

"She told me enough. All I need to know. "

Again the young man's shoulders lifted in a little gesture of humorousresignation. He knew the uncompromising directness of Miss Valdés andthe futility of arguing with her. After all, the character of Gordon wasnone of his business. The man might have made love to Juanita, though hedid not look like that kind of a person. In any case the important thingwas to save his life. 

After a moment's thought he announced a decision. "I shall take thestage for Santa Fé this afternoon. When I have warned the American I'llround up your man-hunters and bring them back to you. "

His lady's face thanked him, though her words did not. "You may tellthem I said they were to come back at once. "

At her cousin's urgent request Miss Valdés stayed to eat luncheon withhim at Corbett's, which was a half-way station for the stage andmaintained a public eating-house. Even Valencia hesitated a little atthis, though she was at heart an emancipated American girl and not amuch-chaperoned Spanish maid. But she wanted to repay him for theservice he was undertaking so cheerfully, and therefore sacrificed herscruples. 

As they were being served by Juanita the stage rolled up and disgorgedits passengers. They poured into the dining-room--a mine-owner and hissuperintendent, a storekeeper from the village at the other end of thevalley, a young woman school-teacher from the Indian reservation, acattleman, and two Mexican sheepmen. 

While the fresh horses were being hitched to the stage Pesquiera and hisguest stood back a little apart from the others. Corbett brought out asack containing mail and handed it to the driver. The passengers foundagain their places. 

Pesquiera shook hands with Valencia. His gaze rested for a moment in herdark eyes. 

"_Adios, linda_, " he said, in a low voice. 

The color deepened in her cheeks. She understood that he was telling herhow very much he was her lover now and always. "Good-bye, _amigo_, " sheanswered lightly. 

Pesquiera took his place on the back seat. The whip of the drivercracked. In a cloud of white dust the stage disappeared around a bend inthe road. 

Valencia ordered her horse brought, and left for the ranch. Havingdispatched Manuel to the scene of action, it might be supposed that shewould have awaited the issue without farther activity. But on the wayhome she began to reflect that her cousin would not reach Santa Fé untilnext morning, and there was always a chance that this would be too late. As soon as she reached the ranch she called up the station where thestage connected with the train. To the operator she dictated a messageto be wired to Richard Gordon. The body of it ran thus:

 "Have heard that attack may be made upon your life. Please do not go out alone or at night at all. Answer. "

She gave urgent instructions that if necessary to reach Gordon hertelegram be sent to every hotel in the city and to his lawyer, Thomas M. Fitt. 

Now that she had done all she could the young woman tried to put thematter out of her mind by busying herself with the affairs of the ranch. She had a talk with a cattle buyer, after which she rode out to see theengineer who had charge of the building of the irrigation system she hadinstalled. An answer would, she was sure, be awaiting her upon herreturn home. 

Her anticipation was well founded. One of the housemaids told her thatthe operator at San Jacinto had twice tried to get her on the telephone. The mistress of the ranch stepped at once to the receiver. 

"Give me San Jacinto, " she said to the operator. 

As soon as she was on the wire with the operator he delivered themessage he had for her. It was from Santa Fé and carried the signatureof Stephen Davis:

 "Gordon has been missing since last night. I fear the worst. For God's sake, tell me what you know. "

Valencia leaned against the telephone receiver and steadied herself. Shefelt strangely faint. The wall opposite danced up and down and the floorswayed like the deck of a vessel in a heavy sea. She set her teeth hardto get a grip on herself. Presently the wave of light-headedness passed. 

She moved across the room and sank down into a chair in front of herdesk. They had then murdered him after all. She and her people wereresponsible for his death. There was nothing to be done now--nothing atall. 

Then, out of the silence, a voice seemed to call to her--the voice ofRichard Gordon, faint and low, but clear. She started to her feet andlistened, shaken to the soul by this strange summons from that worldwhich lay beyond the reach of her physical senses. What could it mean?She had the body of a healthy young animal. Her nerves never played herany tricks. But surely there had come to her a call for help not born ofher own excited fancy. 

In an instant she had made up her mind. Her finger pressed an electricbutton beside the desk, and almost simultaneously a second one. The maidwho appeared in the doorway in answer to the first ring found hermistress busily writing. 

Valencia looked up. "Rosario, pack a suitcase for me with clothes for aweek. Put in my light brown dress and a couple of shirt-waists. I'll beup presently. " Her gaze passed to the major domo who now stood besidethe maid. "I'm going to Santa Fé to-night, Fernando. Order the grays tobe hitched to the buggy. "

"To-night! But, _Señorita_, the train has gone. "

"Juan will go with me. We'll drive right through. My business isimportant. "

"But it is seventy miles to Santa Fé, and part of the way over mountainroads, " he protested. 

"Yes. We should reach there by morning. I mean to travel all night. Makethe arrangements, please, and tell Juan. Then return here. I want totalk over with you the ranch affairs. You will have charge of theditches, too, during my absence. Don't argue, Fernando, but do as Isay. "

The old man had opened his mouth to object, but he closed it withoutvoicing his views. A little smile, born of his pride in her wilfulness, touched his lips and wrinkled the parchment skin. Was she not a Valdés?He had served her father and her grandfather. To him, therefore, shecould do no wrong. 

CHAPTER XV

ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD

The night of his disappearance Dick had sauntered forth from the hotelwith the jaunty assurance to Davis that he was going to call on a younglady. He offered no further details, and his friend asked for none, though he wondered a little what young woman in Santa Fé had inducedGordon to change his habits. The old miner had known him from boyhood. His partner had never found much time for the society of eligiblemaidens. He had been too busy living to find tea-cup discussions aboutlife interesting. The call of adventure had absorbed his youth, and hehad given his few mature years ardently to the great American game ofmoney-making. It was not that he loved gold. What Richard Gordon caredfor was the battle, the struggle against both honorable and unscrupulousfoe-men for success. He fought in the business world only because it wasthe test of strength. Money meant power. So he had made money. 

It was not until Dick failed to appear for breakfast next morning thatDavis began to get uneasy. He sent a bellboy to awaken Gordon, andpresently the lad came back with word that he could get no answer to hisknocks. Instantly Steve pushed back his chair and walked out of the roomto the desk in the lobby. 

"Got a skeleton key to Mr. Gordon's room--317, I think it is?" hedemanded. 

"Yes. We keep duplicate keys. You see, Mr. Davis, guests go away andcarry the keys----"

"Then I want it. Afraid something's wrong with my friend. He's always upearly and on hand for breakfast. He hasn't showed up this mo'ning. Thebell hop can't waken him. I tell you something's wrong. "

"Oh, I reckon he'll turn up all right. " The clerk turned to the keyrack. "Here's the key to Room 317. Mr. Gordon must have left it here. Likely he's gone for a walk. "

Davis shook his head obstinately. "Don't believe it. I'm going up tosee, anyhow. "

Within five minutes he discovered that the bed in Room 317 had not beenslept in the previous night. He was thoroughly alarmed. Gordon had nofriends in the town likely to put him up for the night. Nor was he thesort of rounder to dissipate his energies in all-night debauchery. Dickhad come to Santa Fé for a definite purpose. The old miner knew fromlong experience that he would not be diverted from it for the sake ofthe futile foolish diversions known by some as pleasure. Therefore themind of Davis jumped at once to the conclusion of foul play. 

And if foul play, then the Valdés claimants to the Rio Chamo Valley werethe guilty parties. He blamed himself bitterly for having let Dickventure out alone, for having taken no precautions whatever to guard himagainst the Mexicans who had already once attempted his life. 

"I'm a fine friend. Didn't even find out who he was going out to callon. Fact is, I didn't figure he was in any danger so long as he was intown here, " he explained to the sheriff. 

He learned nothing either at the police headquarters or at the newspaperoffices that threw light on the disappearance of Gordon. No murder hadbeen reported during the night. No unusual disturbance of any kind hadoccurred, so far as could be learned. 

Before noon he had the town plastered with posters in English and inSpanish offering a reward of five hundred dollars for news leading tothe recovery of Richard Gordon or for evidence leading to the convictionof his murderers in case he was dead. This brought two callers to thehotel almost at once. One was the attorney Fitt, the other a young womanwho gave her name as Kate Underwood. Fitt used an hour of the oldminer's time to no purpose, but the young woman brought with her onepiece of news. 

"I want to know when Mr. Gordon was last seen, " she explained, "becausehe was calling on my mother and me last night and left about teno'clock. "

The little man got to his feet in great excitement. "My dear youngwoman, you're the very person I've been wanting to see. He told me hewas going calling, but I'm such a darned chump I didn't think to askwhere. Is Dick a friend of your family?"

"No, hardly that. I met him when he came to our office in the StateHouse to look up the land grant papers. We became friendly and I askedhim to call because we own the old Valdés house, and I thought he wouldlike to see it. " She added, rather dryly: "You haven't answered myquestion. "

"I'll say that so far as I know you are the last person who ever sawDick alive except his murderers, " Davis replied, a gleam of tears in hiseyes. 

"Oh, it can't be as bad as that, " she cried. "They wouldn't go thatfar. "

"Wouldn't they? He was shot at from ambush while we were out riding oneday in the Chama Valley. "

"By whom?"

"By a young Mexican--one of Miss Valdés servants. "

"You don't mean that Valencia----?"

She stopped, unwilling to put her horrified thought into words. Heanswered her meaning. 

"No, I reckon not. She wanted Dick to tell her who it was, so she couldpunish the man. But that doesn't alter the facts any. He was shot at. That time the murderer missed, but maybe this time----"

Miss Underwood broke in sharply. "Do you know that he has been followedever since he came to town, that men have dogged his steps everywhere?"

Davis leaned across the table where he was sitting. "How do you know?"he questioned eagerly. 

"I saw them and warned him. He laughed about it and said he knewalready. He didn't seem at all worried. "

"Worried! He's just kid enough to be tickled to death about it, " snappedthe miner, masking his anxiety with irritation. "He hadn't sense enoughto tell me for fear it would disturb me--and I hadn't the sense to findout in several days what you did in five minutes. "

Davis and Miss Underwood went together over every foot of the roadbetween her home and the hotel. One ray of hope they got from theirexamination of the ground he must have traversed to reach the El Tovar, as the hotel was named. At one spot--where a double row of cottonwoodslined the road--a fence had been knocked down and many feet had trampledthe sandy pasture within. Steve picked up a torn piece of cloth aboutsix inches by twelve in dimension. It had evidently been a part of acoat sleeve. He recognized the pattern as that of the suit his friendhad been wearing. 

"A part of his coat all right, " he said. "They must have bushwhacked himhere. By the foot-prints there were a good many of them. "

"I'm glad there were. "

"Why?"

"For two reasons, " the girl explained. "In the first place, if they hadwanted to kill him, one or two would have been enough. They wouldn'ttake any more than was necessary into their confidence. "

"That's right. Your head's level there. "

"And, in the second place, two men can keep a secret, but six or eightcan't. Some one of them is bound to talk to his sweetheart or wife orfriend. "

"True enough. That five hundred dollars might get one of 'em, too. "

"Somehow I believe he is alive. His enemies have taken him awaysomewhere--probably up into the hills. "

"But why?"

"You ought to know that better than I do. What could they gain by it?"

He scratched his gray head. "Search me. They couldn't aim to hold himtill after the trial. That would be a kid's play. "

"Couldn't they get him to sign some paper--something saying that hewould give up his claim--or that he would sell out cheap?"

"No, they couldn't, " the old man answered grimly. "But they might thinkthey could. I expect that's the play. Dick never in the world would comethrough, though. He's game, that boy is. The point is, what will they dowhen they find he stands the acid?"

Miss Underwood looked quickly at him, then looked quickly away. She knewwhat they would do. So did Davis. 

"No, that's not the point. We must find him--just as soon as we can. Stir this whole town up and rake it with a fine-tooth comb. See if anyof Miss Valdés' peons are in town. If they are have them shadowed. "

They separated presently, she to go to the State House, he to return tothe El Tovar. There he found the telegram from Miss Valdés awaiting him. Immediately he dictated an answer. 

Before nightfall a second supply of posters decorated walls andbillboards. The reward was raised to one thousand dollars forinformation that would lead to the finding of Richard Gordon alive andthe same sum for evidence sufficient to convict his murderers in case hewas dead. It seemed impossible that in so small a place, with everybodydiscussing the mysterious disappearance, the affair could long remain asecret. Davis did not doubt that Miss Underwood was correct in herassumption that the assailants of Gordon had carried him with them intosome hidden pocket of the hills, in which case it might take longer torun them to earth. The great danger that he feared was panic on the partof the abductors. To cover their tracks they might kill him and leavethis part of the country. The closer pursuit pressed on them the morelikely this was to happen. It behooved him to move with the greatestcare. 

CHAPTER XVI

VALENCIA MAKES A PROMISE

When Manuel descended from the El Tovar hack which had brought him fromthe station to that hotel the first person he saw standing upon theporch was Valencia Valdés. He could hardly believe his eyes, for ofcourse she could not be here. He had left her at Corbett's, had takenthe stage and the train, and now found her waiting for him. The thingwas manifestly impossible. Yet here she was. 

Swiftly she came down the steps to meet him. 

"Manuel, we are too late. Mr. Gordon has gone. "

"Gone where?" he asked, his mind dazed as it moved from one puzzle toanother. 

"We don't know. He was attacked night before last and carried away, whether dead or alive we have no proof. "

"One thing at a time, Valencia. How did you get here?"

"I drove across the mountains--started when I got the news from Mr. Davis that his friend had disappeared. "

"Do you mean that you drove all night--along mountain roads?" he asked, amazed. 

"Of course. I had to get here. " She dismissed this as a trifle with alittle gesture of her hand. "Manuel, we must find him. I believe he isalive. This is some of Pablo's work. Down in old-town some one must knowwhere he is. Bring him to me and I'll make him tell what he has donewith Mr. Gordon. "

Pesquiera was healthily hungry. He would have liked to sit down to agood breakfast, but he saw that his cousin was laboring under a heavynervous tension. Cheerfully he gave up his breakfast for the present. 

But when, three hours later, he returned from the old adobe Mexicanquarter Manuel had nothing to report but failure. Pablo had been seen byseveral people, but not within the past twenty-four hours. Nor hadanything been seen of Sebastian. The two men had disappeared from sightas completely as had Gordon. 

Valencia, in the privacy of one of the hotel parlors, broke down andwept for the first time. Manuel tried to comfort her by taking the girlin his arms and petting her. She submitted to his embrace, burying herface in his shoulder. 

"Oh, Manuel, I'm a--a murderess, " she sobbed. 

"You're a goose, " he corrected. "Haven't you from the first tried tosave this man from his own rashness? You're not to blame in any way, Val. "

"Yes . .. Yes, " she sobbed. "Pablo and Sebastian would never have daredtouch him if they hadn't known that I'd quarreled with him. It all comesback to that. "

"That's pure nonsense. For that matter, I don't believe he's dead atall. We'll find him, as gay and insolent as ever, I promise you. "

Hope was buoyant in the young man's heart. For the first time he heldhis sweetheart in his arms. She clung to him, as a woman ought to herlover, palpitant, warm, and helpless. Of course they would find thispestiferous American who had caused her so much worry. And thenhe--Manuel--would claim his reward. 

"Do you think so . .. Really? You're not just saying so because . .. ?" Herolive cheek turned the least in the world toward him. 

Manuel trod on air. He felt that he could have flown across the range onthe wings of his joy. 

"I feel sure of it, _niña_. " Daring much, his hand caressed gently thewaves of heavy black hair that brushed his cheek. 

Almost in a murmur she answered him. "Manuel, find him and save him. Afterward . .. "

"Afterward, _alma mia?_"

She nodded. "I'll . .. Do what you ask. "

"You will marry me?" he cried, afraid to believe that his happiness hadcome at last. 

"Yes. "

"Valencia, you love me?"

She trod down any doubts she might feel. Was he not the one suitablemate for her of all the men she knew?

"How can I help it. You are good. You are generous. You serve me truly. "Gently she disengaged herself and wiped her eyes with a lace kerchief. "But we must first find the American. "

"I'll find him. Dead or alive I'll bring him to you. Dear heart, you'vegiven me the strength that moves mountains. "

A little smile fought for life upon her sad face. "You'll not havestrength unless you eat. Poor Manuel, I think you lost your breakfast. Iordered luncheon to be ready for us early. We'll eat now. "

A remark of Manuel during luncheon gave his vis-à-vis an idea. 

"Mr. Davis is most certainly thorough. I never saw a town so plasteredwith bills before, " he remarked. 

Valencia laid down her knife and fork as she looked at him. "Let's offera reward for Pablo and Sebastian--say, a hundred dollars. That wouldbring us news of them. "

"You're right, " he agreed. "I'll get bills out this afternoon. PerhapsI'd better say no incriminating questions will be asked of those givingus information. "

Stirred to activity by the promise of such large rewards, not only thesheriff's office and the police, but also private parties scoured theneighboring country for traces of the missing man or his captors. Everyavailable horse in town was called into service for the man-hunt. Othersbecame sleuths on foot and searched cellars and empty houses for thebody of the man supposed to have been murdered. Never in its history hadso much suspicion among neighbors developed in the old-town. Many whocould not possibly be connected with the crime were watched jealouslylest they snap up one of the rewards by stumbling upon evidence that hadbeen overlooked. 

False clews in abundance were brought to Davis and Pesquiera. Goodcitizens came in with theories that lacked entirely the backing of anyevidence. One of these was that a flying machine had descended in thedarkness and that Gordon had been carried away by a friend to avoid thepayment of debts he was alleged to owe. The author of this explanationwas a stout old lady of militant appearance who carried a cottonumbrella large enough to cover a family. She was extraordinarilypersistent and left in great indignation to see a lawyer because Daviswould not pay her the reward. 

That day and the next passed with the mystery still unsolved. Valenciacontinued to stay at the hotel instead of opening the family town house, probably because she had brought no servants with her from the valleyand did not know how long she would remain in the city. She and Manuelcalled upon the Underwoods to hear Kate's story, but from it theygathered nothing new. Mrs. Underwood welcomed them with the gentlekindness that characterized her, but Kate was formal and distant. 

"She doesn't like me, " Valencia told her cousin as soon as they hadleft. "I wonder why. We were good enough friends as children. "

Manuel said nothing. He stroked his little black mustache with theforeign manner he had inherited. If he had cared to do so perhaps hecould have explained Kate Underwood's stiffness. Partly it wasembarrassment and partly shyness. He knew that there had been atime--before Valencia's return from college--when Kate lacked verylittle of being in love with him. He had but to say the word to havebecome engaged--and he had not said it. For, while on a visit to theEast, he had called upon his beautiful cousin and she had won his loveat once. This had nipped in the bud any embryonic romance that mightotherwise have been possible with Kate. 

A little old Mexican woman with a face like wrinkled leather was waitingto see them in front of the hotel. 

"_Señor_ Pesquiera?" she asked, with a little bob of the body meant tobe a bow. 

"Yes. "

"And _Señorita_ Valdés?"

"That is my name, " answered Valencia. 

"Will the _señor_ and the _señorita_ take a walk? The night is fine. "

"Where?" demanded Manuel curtly. 

"Into old-town, _señor_. "

"You have something to tell us. "

"To show you, _señor_--for a hundred dollars. "

"Sebastian--or is it Pablo?" cried Valencia, in a low voice. 

"I say nothing, _señorita_" whined the old woman. "I show you; then youpay. Is it not so?"

"Get the money, Manuel, " his cousin ordered quietly. 

Manuel got it from the hotel safe. He took time also to get from hisroom a revolver. Gordon had fallen victim to an ambush and he did notintend to do so if he could help it. In his own mind he had no doubtthat some of their countrymen were selling either Pablo or Sebastian forthe reward, but it was better to be safe than to be sorry. 

The old crone led them by side streets into the narrow adobe-lined roadsof old-town. They passed through winding alleys and between buildingscrumbling with age. Always Manuel watched, his right hand in his coatpocket. At the entrance to a little court a man emerged from the shadowof a wall. He whispered with the old dame for a minute. 

"Come. Make an end of this and show us what you have to show, _muypronto_, " interrupted Manuel impatiently. 

"In good time, _señor_, " the man apologized. 

"Just a word first, my friend. I have a revolver in my hand. If there istrickery in your mind, better give it up. I'm a dead shot, and I'll putthe first bullet through your heart. Now lead on. "

The Mexican threw up his hands in protest to all the saints that hispurpose was good. He would assuredly keep faith, _señor_. 

"See you do, " replied the Spaniard curtly. 

Their guide rapped three times on a door of a tumble-down shack. Cautiously it was opened a few inches. There was another whisperedconversation. 

"The _señor_ and the _señorita_ can come in, " said the first man, standing aside. 

Manuel restrained the young woman by stretching his left arm in front ofher. 

"Just a moment. Light a lamp, my friends. We do not go forward in thedark. "

At this there was a further demur, but finally a match flickered and alamp was lit. Manuel moved slowly forward into the room, followed byValencia. In a corner of the room a man lay bound upon the floor, hisback toward them. One of the men rolled him over as if he had been asack of potatoes. The face into which they looked had been mauled andbattered, but Valencia had no trouble in recognizing it. 

"Sebastian!" she cried. 

He said nothing. A sullen, dogged look rested on his face. Manuel hadseen it before on the countenance of many men. He knew that the sheepgrazer could not be driven to talk. 

Miss Valdés might have known it, too, but she was too impatient forfinesse. "What have you done with Mr. Gordon? Tell me--now--at once, "she commanded. 

The man's eyes did not lift to meet hers. Nor did he answer a singleword. 

"First, our hundred dollars, _Señorita_, " one of the men reminded her. 

"It will be paid when you deliver Sebastian to us in the street with hishands tied behind him, " Manuel promised. 

They protested, grumbling that they had risked enough already when theyhad captured him an hour earlier. But in the end they came toPesquiera's condition. The prisoner's hands were tied behind him and hisfeet released so that he could walk. Manuel slid one arm under the rightone of Sebastian. The fingers of his left hand rested on the handle of arevolver in his coat pocket. 

Valencia, all impatience, could hardly restrain herself until they werealone with their prisoner. She walked on the other side of her cousin, but as soon as they reached the Plaza she stopped. 

"Where is he, Sebastian? What have you done with him? I warn you it isbetter to tell all you know, " she cried sternly. 

He looked up at her doggedly, moistened his lips, and looked down againwithout a word. 

"Speak!" she urged imperiously. "Where is Mr. Gordon? Tell me he isalive. And what of Pablo?"

Manuel spoke in a low voice. "My cousin, you are driving him to silence. Leave him to me. He must be led, not driven. "

Valencia was beyond reason. She felt that every minute lost was oftremendous importance. If Gordon was alive they must get help to him atonce. All her life she had known Sebastian. When she had been a littletot he had taught her how to ride and how to fish. Since her return fromcollege she had renewed acquaintance with him. Had she not been good tohis children when they had small-pox? Had she not sold him his placecheaper than any other man could have bought it? Why, then, should heassume she was his enemy? Why should he distrust her? Why, above all, had he done this foolish and criminal thing?

Her anger blazed as she recalled all this and more. She would showSebastian that because she had been indulgent he could not tradedefiantly upon her kindness. 

"No, " she told Manuel. "No. I shall deal with him myself. He will speakor I shall turn him over to the sheriff. "

"Let us at least go to the hotel, Valencia. We do not want to gather acrowd on the street. "

"As you please. "

They reached the hotel parlor and Valencia gave Sebastian one morechance. 

The man shuffled uneasily on his feet, but did not answer. 

"Very well, " continued Miss Valdés stiffly, "it is not my fault that youwill have to go to the penitentiary and leave your children withoutsupport. "

Manuel tried to stop her, but Valencia brushed past and left the room. She went straight to a telephone and was connected with the office ofthe sheriff. After asking that an officer be sent at once to arrest aman whom she was holding as prisoner, she hung up the receiver andreturned to the parlor. 

In all she could not have been absent more than five minutes, but whenshe reached the parlor it was empty. Both Manuel and his prisoner hadgone. 

CHAPTER XVII

AN OBSTINATE MAN

When Richard Gordon came back from unconsciousness to a world ofhaziness and headaches he was quite at a loss to account for hissituation. He knew vaguely that he was lying flat on his back and thathe was being jolted uncomfortably to and fro. His dazed brain registeredsensations of pain both dull and sharp from a score of bruised nervecenters. For some reason he could neither move his hands nor lift hishead. His body had been so badly jarred by the hail of blows throughwhich he had plowed that at first his mind was too blank to give himexplanations. 

Gradually he recalled that he had been in a fight. He remembered a seaof faces, the thud of fists, the flash of knives. This must be thereason why every bone ached, why the flesh on his face was caked andwarm moisture dripped from cuts in his scalp. It dawned upon him that hecould not move his arms because they were tied and that the interferencewith his breathing was caused by a gag. When he opened his eyes he sawnothing, but whenever his face or hands stirred from the joltingsomething light and rough brushed his flesh; An odor of alfalfa filledhis nostrils. He guessed that he was in a wagon and covered with hay. 

Where were they taking him? Why had they not killed him at once? Who wasat the bottom of the attack upon him? Already his mind was busy with theproblem. 

Presently the jolting ceased. He could hear guarded voices. The alfalfawas thrown aside and he was dragged from his place and carried down somesteps. The men went stumbling through the dark, turning first to theright, and then to the left. They groped their way into a room anddropped him upon a bed. Even now they struck no light, but through asmall window near the ceiling moonbeams entered and relieved somewhatthe inky blackness. 

"Is he dead?" someone asked in Spanish. 

"No. His eyes were open as we brought him in, " answered a second voiceguardedly. 

They stood beside the bed and looked down at their prisoner. His eyeswere getting accustomed to the darkness. He saw that one of the men wasPablo Menendez. The other, an older Mexican with short whiskers, wasunknown to him. 

"He fought like a devil from hell. Roderigo's arm is broken. Not one ofus but is marked, " said the older man admiringly. 

"My head is ringing yet, Sebastian, " agreed Pablo. "_Dios_, how heslammed poor José down. The blood poured from his nose and mouth. Neveryet have I seen a man fight so fierce and so hard as this _Americano_. He may be the devil himself, but his claws are clipped now. And here helies till he does as we want, or----" The young Mexican did not finishhis sentence, but the gleam in his eyes was significant. 

Pablo stooped till his eyes were close to those of the bound man. "_Señor, _ shall I take the gag from your mouth? Will you swear not tocry out and not to make any noise?"

Gordon nodded. 

"So, but if you do the road to Paradise will be short and swift, "continued Menendez. "Before your shout has died away you will be dead. _Sabe, Señor_?"

He unknotted the towel at the back of his prisoner's head and drew itfrom Dick's mouth. Gordon expanded his lungs in a deep breath before hespoke coolly to his gaoler. 

"Thank you, Menendez. You needn't keep your fist on that gat. I've nointention of committing suicide until after I see you hanged. "

"Which will be never, _Señor_ Gordon, " replied Pablo rapidly in Spanish. "You will never leave here alive except on terms laid down by us. "

"Interesting if true--but not true, I think, " commented Dick pleasantly. "You have made a mistake, my friends, and you will have to pay for it. "

"If we have made a mistake it can yet be remedied, _Señor_" retortedPablo quietly. "We have but to make an end of you and behold! all iswell again. "

"Afraid not, my enthusiastic young friend. Too many in the secret. Someone will squeal, and the rest of you--particularly you tworingleaders--will be hanged by the neck. It takes only ordinaryintelligence to know that. Therefore I am quite safe, even though I havea confounded headache and a rising fever. " Gordon added with cheerfulsolicitude: "I do hope I'm not going to get sick on your hands. It'srather a habit of mine, you know. But, really, you can't blame me thistime. "

A danger signal flared in the eyes of the young Mexican. "Better not, _Señor_. You will here have no young and charming nurse to wait uponyou. "

"Meaning Mrs. Corbett?" asked the prisoner, smiling up impudently. 

"Whose heart your soft words can steal away from him to whom itbelongs, " continued Pablo furiously. 

"Sho, I reckon Corbett----"

"_Mil diablos!_"

A devil of jealousy was burning out of the black eyes that blazed intothose of the American. It was no longer possible for Dick to miss themenace and its meaning. The Mexican was speaking of Juanita. He believedthat his prisoner had been making love to the girl and his heart wasblack with hate because of it. 

Gordon looked at him steadily, then summed up with three derisive words. "You damn fool!"

Something in the way he said them shook Pablo's conviction. Was itpossible after all that his jealousy had been useless? Juanita had toldhim that all through his delirium this man had raved of Miss Valdés. Perhaps---- But, no, had he not with his own eyes seen the man banteringJuanita while the color came and went in her wild rose cheeks? Had henot seen him lean on her shoulder as he hobbled out to the porch, justas a lover might on that of his sweetheart?

With an oath Pablo turned sullenly away. He knew he was no match forthis man at any point. Yet he was a leader among his own people becauseof the force in him. 

Gordon slept little during the night. He had been so badly beaten thatoutraged nature took her revenge in a feverish restlessness thatprecluded any real rest. With the coming of day the temperaturesubsided. Pablo brought a basin of water and a sponge, with which hewashed the bloody face and head of the bound man. 

Dick observed that his nurse had a few marks of his own as souvenirs ofthe battle. The cheek bone had been laid open by a blow that must havebeen made with his knuckles. One eye was half shut, and beneath it was adeep purple swelling. 

"Had quite a little jamboree, didn't we?" remarked Gordon, with a grin. "I'll bet you lads mussed my hair up some. "

Pablo said nothing, but after he had made his unwilling guest aspresentable and comfortable as possible he proceeded to business. 

"You want to know why we have made you prisoner, _Señor_ Gordon?" hesuggested. "It has perhaps occur to you that it would have been mucheasier to shoot you and be done?"

"Yes, that has struck me, Menendez. I reckon your nerve didn't quite runto murder maybe. "

"Not so. I spare you because you save my brother's life after he shootat you. But I exact conditions. So?"

The eyes of the miner had grown hard and steelly. The lids had closed onthem so that only slits were open. "Let's hear them. "

"First, that you give what is called word of honor not to push anycharges against those taking you prisoner. "

"Pass that for the present, " ordered Dick curtly. "Number two please. "

"That you sign a paper drawn up by a lawyer giving all your rights inthe Rio Chama Valley to Señorita Valdés and promise never to go near thevalley again. "

"Nothing doing, " answered the prisoner promptly, his jaws snappingtight. 

"But yes--most assuredly yes. I risk much to save your life. But youmust go to meet me, _Señor_. Is a man's life not worth all to him? So?Sign, and you live. "

The eyes of the men had fastened--the fierce, black, eager ones of theMexican and the steelly gray ones of the Anglo-Saxon. There was therigor of battle in that gaze, the grinding of rapier on rapier. Gordonwas a prisoner in the hands of his enemy. He lay exhausted from aterrible beating. That issues of life and death hung in the balance achild might have guessed. But victory lay with the white man. The lidsof Menendez fell over sullen, angry eyes. 

"You are a fool, _Señor_. We go to prison for no man who is our enemy. Pouf! When the hour comes I snuff out your life like that. " And Pablosnapped his fingers airily. 

"Maybe--and maybe not. I figure on living to be an old man. Tell youwhat I'll do, Menendez. Turn me loose and I'll forget about our littlerumpus last night. I'd ought to send you to the pen, but I'll consent toforego that pleasure. "

Sulkily Pablo turned away. What could one do with a madman who insistedon throwing his life away? The young Mexican was not a savage, thoughthe barbaric strain in his wild lawless blood was still strong. He didnot relish the business of killing in cold blood even the man he hated. 

"If you kill me you'll hang, " went on Gordon composedly. "You'll neverget away with it. Your own friends will swear your neck into a noose. Your partner Sebastian--you'll excuse me if I appear familiar, but Idon't know the gentleman's other name--will turn State's evidence to tryto save his own neck. But I reckon he'll have to climb the ladder, too. "

Sebastian pushed aside his companion angrily and took the American bythe throat. 

"_Por Dios_, I show you. If I hang I hang--but you----" His muscularfingers tightened till the face of his enemy grew black. But theeyes--the steady, cool, contemptuous eyes--still looked into hisdefiantly. 

Pablo dragged his accomplice from the bedside. The time might come forthis, but it was not yet. 

It had been a close thing for Gordon. If those lean, strong fingers hadbeen given a few seconds more at his throat they would have snapped thecord of life. But gradually the distorted face resumed its natural hueas the coughing, strangling man began to breathe again. 

"Your--friend--is--impetuous, " Dick suggested to Pablo as soon as hecould get the words out one at a time. 

"He will shake the life out of you as a terrier does that of a rat, "Pablo promised vindictively. 

"There's no fun--in being strangled, as you'll both--find out later, "the prisoner retorted whimsically but with undaunted spirit. 

Sebastian had left the room. At the expiration of half an hour hereturned with a tray, upon which were two plates with food and two cupsof steaming coffee. The Mexicans ate their ham and their _frijoles_ anddrank their coffee. The prisoner they ignored. 

"Don't I draw even a Libby Prison allowance?" the American wanted toknow. 

"You eat and you drink after you have signed the paper, " Pablo told him. 

"I always did think we ate too much and too often. Much obliged for achance to work out my theories. "

Gordon turned his back upon them, his face to the wall. Presently, inspite of the cramped position necessitated by his bound arms, he yieldedto weariness and fell asleep. Sebastian lay down in a corner of the roomand also slept. He and Pablo would have to relieve each other aswatchmen so long as they held their prisoner. For that reason they mustget what rest they could during the day. 

Menendez found himself the victim of conflicting emotions. It had beeneasy while they were plotting the abduction to persuade himself that theman would grant anything to save his life. Now he doubted this. Lookingclown at the battered face of the miner, so lean and strong and virile, he could not withhold a secret reluctant admiration. How was it possiblefor him to sleep so easily and lightly while he lay within the shadow ofviolent death? There was even a little smile about the corners of hismouth, as if he were enjoying pleasant dreams. Never had Pablo knownanother man like this one. Had he not broken the spirit of that outlawdevil Teddy in ten minutes? Who else could shoot the heads off chickensat a distance as he had done? Was there another in New Mexico thatcould, though taken at advantage, put up so fierce a fight against bigodds? The young Mexican hated him because of Juanita and his oppositionto Miss Valdés. But the untamed and gallant spirit of the young man wentout in spite of himself in homage to the splendid courage and efficiencyof his victim. 

Not till the middle of the afternoon did Gordon awaken. He was surprisedto find that his hands were free. Of Menendez he asked an explanation. 

Pablo gave him none. How could he say that he was ashamed to keep himtied while two armed men were in the room to watch him?

"Move from that bed and I'll blow your brains out, " the Mexican growledin Spanish. 

Presently Pablo brought him a tin dipper filled with water. 

"Drink, _Señor_" he ordered ungraciously. 

Dick drank the last drop and smiled at his guard gratefully. "You'rewhite in spots, Mr. Miscreant, though you hate to think it of yourself, "he said lightly. 

Odd as it may seem, Gordon found a curious pleasure in exploring themind of the young man. He detected the struggle going on in it, and hemade remarks so uncannily wise that the Mexican was startled at hisdivination. The miner held no grudge. These men were his enemies becausethey thought him a selfish villain who ought to be frustrated in hisdesigns. Long ago, in that school of experience which had made him thehard, competent man he was, Dick had learned the truth of the sayingthat to know all is to forgive all. He himself had done bold and lawlessthings often enough, but it was seldom that he did a mean one. Warilyalert though he was for a chance to escape, his feelings were quiteimpersonal toward these Mexicans. Confronted with the need, he wouldkill if he must to save himself; but it would not be because he wasvindictive. 

Dick's mind was alert to every chance of escape. He studied hissituation as well as he could without moving from the bed. From theglimpse of the house he had had as the two men carried him in he knewthat it was a large, modern one set in grounds of considerable size. Hehad been brought down a flight of steps and was now in the basement. Wasthe house an unoccupied one? Or was it in the possession of some onefriendly to the scheme upon which the Mexicans had engaged?

A suspicion had startled him just after the men finished eating, but hehad dismissed it as a fantasy of his excited imagination. Sebastian, carrying out the dishes, had dropped a spoon and left it lying besidethe bed. Dick contrived, after he had wakened, to roll close to the edgeand look down. The spoon was still there. Two letters were engraved uponthe handle. They were A. V. If these stood for Alvaro Valdés, then thismust be the town house of Valencia, and she was probably a party to hisabduction. 

He could not without distress of heart accept such a conclusion. She washis enemy, but she had seemed to him so frank and generous a one thatcomplicity in a plot of this nature had no part in the picture of herhis mind had drawn. He wrestled with the thought of this until he couldstand it no longer. 

"Did Miss Valdés come to town herself, or is she letting you run thisabduction, Menendez?" he asked suddenly. 

Pablo repeated stupidly, "Miss Valdés--the _señorita_?"

The keen, hard eyes of Gordon did not lift for an instant from those ofthe other man. "That's what I said. "

It occurred to the Mexican that this was a chance to do a stroke ofbusiness for his mistress. He would show the confident _Americano_ whatplace he held in her regard. 

His shoulders lifted in a shrug. "You are clevair, _Señor_. How do youknow the _señorita_ knows?"

"This is her house. She told you to bring me here. "

Pablo was surprised. "So? You know it is her house?"

"Surest thing you know. "

"The _señorita_ trusts me. She is at the ranch. "

"But you are acting under her orders?"

"If the _señor_ pleases. "

Dick turned his back to the wall again. His heart was bitter within him. He had thought her a sportsman, every inch a thoroughbred. But she hadset her peons to spy on him and to attack him--ten to one in theirfavor--so that she might force him to sign away his rights to her. Verywell. He would show her whether she could drive him to surrender, whether she could starve him into doing what he did not want to do. 

The younger Mexican wakened Sebastian late in the afternoon and left himto guard the prisoner while he went into the town to hear what rumorswere flying about the affair. About an hour later he returned, bringingwith him some provisions, a newspaper, and a handbill. The latter hetossed to Gordon. 

"Señor, I never saw five hundred dollars dangling within reach before. Shall I go to your friend and give him information?" asked Pablo. 

Dick read the poster through with interest. "Good old Steve. He'sgetting busy. Inside of twenty-four hours he'll ferret out this spot. "

"It may be too late, " Pablo flung back significantly. "If they press ushard we'll finish the job and make a run for it. "

They were talking in Spanish, as they did most of the time. The prisonerread aloud the offer on the handbill. 

"Please notice that I'm worth no more alive than you are if I'm dead. Ireckon this town is full of friends of yours anxious to earn fivehundred plunks by giving a little information. Let me ask a question ofyou. Suppose you do finish the job and hit the trail. Where would yougo?"

"The hills are full of pockets. We could hide and watch a chance to getout of the country. "

"We wouldn't have to hide. Jesu Cristo, who would know we did it?"chipped in Sebastian roughly. 

"Everybody will know it soon. You made a bad mistake when you didn'tbump me off at the start. All your friends that helped bushwhack me willitch to get that five hundred, Sebastian. As to hiding--well, I was aranger once. Offer a reward, and everybody is on the jump to earn it. The way these hills are being combed this week by anxious man-huntersyou'd never reach your cache. "

"Maybe we would and maybe we wouldn't. We'll have to take a chance onthat, " replied the bearded Mexican sullenly. 

To their prisoner it was plain that the men were I growing more anxiousevery hour. They regretted the course they had followed and yet couldsee no way of safety opening to them. Suspicious by nature, Sebastianjudged the American by himself. If their positions were reversed, heknew he would break any pledge he might make and go straight to thesheriff with his story. Therefore they could not with safety release theman. To kill him would be dangerous. To keep him prisoner was possibleonly for a limited time. Whatever course they followed seemed precariousand uncertain. Temperamentally he was inclined to put an end to the manand try a bolt for the hills, but he found in Pablo an unexpecteddifficulty. The young man would not hear of this. He had made up hismind riot to let Gordon be killed if he could prevent it, though he didnot tell the American so. 

Menendez made another trip after supplies next day, but he came backhurriedly without them. Pesquiera's poster offering a reward of onehundred dollars for the capture of him or Sebastian had brought him upshort and sent him scurrying back to his hole. 

Gordon used the poster for a text. His heart was jubilant within him, for he knew now that Valencia was not back of this attack upon him. 

"All up with you now, " he assured them in a genial, offhand fashion. "Miss Valdés must be backing Pesquiera. They know you two are the guiltyvillains. Inside of twelve hours they'll have you both hogtied. "

Clearly the conspirators were of that opinion themselves. They talkedtogether a good deal in whispers. Dick was of the opinion that aproposition would be made him before morning, though it was justpossible that the scale might tip the other way and his death be voted. He spent a very anxious hour. 

After dark Sebastian, who was less well known in the town than Pablo, departed on an errand unknown to Gordon. The miner guessed that he wasgoing to make arrangements for horses upon which to escape. Dick was nottold their decision. Menendez had fallen sulky again and refused totalk. 

CHAPTER XVIII

MANUEL INTERFERES

Valencia had scarcely left the parlor to telephone for the sheriffbefore Manuel flashed a knife and cut the rope that tied his prisoner'shands. 

Sebastian had shrunk back at sight of the knife, but when he found thathe was free he stared at Pesquiera in startled amazement. 

"Come! Let's get out of here. We can talk when you are free of danger, "said Manuel with sharp authority in his voice. 

He led the way into the corridor, walked quickly down one passage andalong another, and so by a back stairway into the alley in the rear. Within a few minutes they were a quarter of a mile from the El Tovar. 

Sebastian, still suspicious, yet aware that for some reason Don Manuelwas unexpectedly on his side, awaited explanations. 

"_Doña_ Valdés is quite right, Sebastian. She means well, but she is, after all, a woman. This is a man's business, and you and I can settleit better alone. " Manuel smiled with an air of frank confidence at hisformer prisoner. "You are in a serious fix--no doubt at all about that. The question is to find the best way out. "

_"Si, Señor"_. 

Pesquiera's bright black eyes fastened on him as he flung a question atthe man. "I suppose this Gordon is still alive. "

Sebastian nodded gloomily. "He is like a cat with its nine lives. Wehave beaten and starved him, but he laughs--this Gringo devil--and tellsus he will live to see us wearing stripes in prison. "

_"Muy bien. "_ Manuel talked on briskly, so as to give the slower-wittedMexican no time to get set in obstinacy. "I should be able to arrangematters then. We must free the man after I have his word to tellnothing. "

"But he will run straight to the sheriff, " protested Sebastian. 

"Not if he gives his word. I'll see to that. Where have you him hidden?"The young Spaniard asked the question carelessly, almost indifferently, as if it were merely a matter of course. 

Sebastian opened his mouth to tell--and then closed it. He had had nointention of telling anything. Now he found he had told everythingexcept their hiding-place. The suspicion which lay coiled in his heartlifted its head like a snake. Was he being led into a trap? Would DonManuel betray him to the law? The gleaming eyes of the man narrowed andgrew hard. 

Manuel, intuitively sensing this, hurried on. "It can be a matter ofonly hours now until they stumble upon your hiding-place. If thishappens before we have come to terms with Gordon you are lost. I havecome to town to save you and Pablo. But I can't do this unless you trustme. Take me to Gordon and let me talk with him. Blindfold me if youlike. But lose no time. "

As Sebastian saw it, this was a chance. He knew Manuel was an honestman. His reputation was of the best. Reluctantly he gave way. 

"The _Americano_ is at the Valdés house, " he admitted sulkily. 

"At the Valdés house? Why, in Heaven's name, did you take him there?"

"How could we tell that the _Señorita_ would come to town? The house wasempty. Pablo worked there in the stables as a boy. So we moved in. "

A quarter of an hour later Pablo opened the outer basement door inanswer to the signal agreed upon by them. He had left the prisoner uponthe bed with his hands tied. Sebastian entered. Pablo noticed thatanother man was standing outside. Instantly his rifle covered him. For, though others of their countrymen had been employed to help captureGordon, none of these knew where he was hidden. 

"It is Don Manuel Pesquiera, " explained Sebastian. "I brought him hereto help us out of this trouble we are in. Let him in and I will tell youall. "

For an instant Pablo suspected that his accomplice had sold him, but hedismissed the thought almost at once. He had known Sebastian all hislife. He stepped aside and let Pesquiera come into the hall. 

The three men talked for a few minutes and then passed into the bedroomwhere the prisoner was confined. Evidently this had formerly been theapartment of the cook, who had slept in the basement in order no doubtto be nearer her work. Pesquiera looked around and at last made out afigure in the darkness lying upon the bed. 

He stepped forward, observing that the man on the bed had his handsbound. Bending down, he recognized the face of Gordon. Beaten andbruised and gaunt from hunger it was, but the eyes still gleamed withthe same devil-may-care smile. 

"Happy to meet you, Don Manuel. "

The Spaniard's heart glowed with admiration. He did not like the man. Itwas his intention to fight him as soon as possible for the insult thathad been put upon him some weeks earlier. But his spirit always answeredto the call of courage, and Gordon's pluck was so debonair he could notrefuse a reluctant appreciation. 

"I regret to see you thus, Mr. Gordon, " he said. 

"Might have been worse. Sebastian has had se-vere-al notions aboutputting me out of business. I'm lucky to be still kicking. "

"I have come from Miss Valdés. She came to Santa Fé when she heard fromyour friend Mr. Davis that you had disappeared. To-night we sawSebastian for the first time. He brought me here. "

"Good of him, " commented Dick ironically. 

"You will be freed of course--at once. " Manuel drew out his knife andcut the cords that bound the prisoner. "But I must ask your forbearancein behalf of Sebastian and Pablo and the others that have injured you. May I give them your pledge not to appear as a witness against them forwhat they have done?"

"Fine! I'm to be mauled and starved and kidnaped, but I'm to say 'Thankyou kindly' for these small favors, hoping for a continuance of thesame. You have another guess coming, Mr. Pesquiera. I offered thoseterms two days ago. They weren't accepted. My ideas have changed. I'mgoing to put your friends behind the bars--unless you decide to let themmurder me instead. I've been the goat long enough. "

"Your complaint is just, Mr. Gordon. It iss your right to enforce thelaw. Most certainly it iss your right. But consider my position. Sebastian brought me here only upon my pledge to secure from you apromise not to press your rights. What shall I do? I must see that youare released. That goes without saying. But shall I break faith with himand let him be delivered to justice? I have given my word, remember. "

Gordon looked up at him with his lean jaw set. "You couldn't give _my_word, could you? Very well. Go away. Forget that you've seen me. I'll bea clam so far as you are concerned. But if I get free I'm going to makethings hot for these lads that think they can play Ned with me. They'regoing to the pen, every last one of them. I'm going to see this thingout to a finish and find out if there's any law in New Mexico. "

Manuel stiffened. "You put me in an awkward position, Mr. Gordon. I haveno choice but to see you are set at liberty. But my honor is involved. These men shall not go to prison. They have made a serious mistake, butthey are not what you call criminals. You know well----"

"I know that they and their friends have shot at me, ambushed me, beatenme, and starved me. They've been wanting to kill me ever since they gotme here--at least one of them has--but they just didn't have the guts todo it. What is your definition of a criminal anyhow? Your friends herefill the specifications close enough to suit me. I ain't worried abouttheir being too good for the company they'll join at the pen. "

"You are then resolve', _Señor_?"

"That's what I am. I'm going to see they get the limit. I've not got athing against you, Mr. Pesquiera, and I'd like to oblige you if I could. But I'm playing this hand myself. "

The Spaniard spoke to him in a low voice. "These men are the people ofMiss Valdés. She drove all night across the mountains to get here soonerwhen she found you were gone. She offered and paid a reward of onehundred dollars to help find you. Do you not owe something to her?"

"I owe one hundred dollars and my thanks, sir. I'll pay them both. ButMiss Valdés cannot ask me to give up prosecuting these men because shewould not stand back and see murder done. "

"Will you then leave it to her to punish these men?"

"No. I pay my own debts. "

Manuel was troubled. He had expected to find the prisoner so eager forrelease that he would consent at once to his proposal. Instead, he founda man hard and cold as steel. Yet he had to admit that Gordon claimedonly his rights. No man could be expected to stand without an appeal tothe law such outrageous treatment as he had been given. 

"Will you consent then to settle the matter with me, man to man? Thesemen are but peons. They are like cattle and do not think. But I--I am amore worthy foeman. Let me take the burden of their misdeeds on myshoulders. "

Dick wagged a forefinger at him warningly. "Now you've got thatswashbuckler notion of a duel again. I'm no cavalier of Spain, but aplain American business man, Don Quixote. As for these jail-birds"--hishand swept the room to include the Mexicans--"since I'm an unregeneratehuman I mean to make 'em pay for what they've done. That's all there isto it. "

Don Manuel bowed. "Very good, Mr. Gordon. We shall see. I promise youthat I shall stand between them and prison. I offer you a chance to winthe friendship of the Mexicans in the valley. You decline. So be it. Iwash my hands, sir. "

He turned away and gave directions to Pablo, who left the room at once. The Spaniard called for candles and lit two. He pointedly ignoredGordon, but sat with his hands in his pockets whistling softly a popularair. 

About a quarter of an hour later Pablo returned with a hot meal on atray. Gordon, having done without food for two days, ate his ham andeggs and drank his coffee with an appetite given to few men. MeanwhilePesquiera withdrew to the passage and laid down an ultimatum to theMexicans. They must take horse at once and get back to the hills abovethe Rio Chama Valley. He would bring saddle horses from a stable so thatthey could start within the hour and travel all night. 

The Mexicans listened sullenly. But they knew that the matter was nowout of their hands. Since the arrival of Pesquiera it had becomemanifestly impossible to hold their prisoner longer. They agreed to theplan of the Spaniard reluctantly. 

After Pablo and Sebastian had taken horse Pesquiera returned to theprisoner. 

"We will, if it pleases you, move upstairs, Mr. Gordon, " he announced. "To-night I must ask you to remain in the house with me to give thosepoor fools a little start on their ride for freedom. We shall findbetter beds upstairs no doubt. "

"They're hitting the trail, are they?" Dick asked negligently as hefollowed his guide. 

"Yes. If you'll give me your parole till morning, Mr. Gordon, I shall beable to return to Miss Valdés and let her know that all is well. Otherwise I shall be obliged to sit up and see that you do not getactive in interfering with the ride of Pablo and his friend. "

"I'll stay here till seven o'clock to-morrow morning. Is that lateenough? Then I'll see the sheriff and start things moving. "

Pesquiera bowed in his grand, formal manner. "The terms satisfy. I wishMr. Gordon a very good night's sleep. This room formerly belonged to thebrother of Miss Valdés. It is curious, but she was here airing this roomonly to-day. She did not know you were in the house at the time. _Adios, Señor. _"

"Good night, Mr. Pesquiera. I reckon I'm in your debt quite a bit. Sorrywe couldn't agree about this little matter of what to do with the boys. "

Manuel bowed again and withdrew from the room. 

Inside of ten minutes Gordon was fast asleep. 

CHAPTER XIX

VALENCIA ACCEPTS A RING

Manuel found Valencia pacing up and down the porch of the hotel in afever of impatience. Instantly at sight of him she ran forward quickly. 

"Where have you been? What have you done with Sebastian? Why did youleave without telling me about it?" she demanded. 

"One question at a time, my cousin, " he answered, smiling at her. "Butlet us walk while I tell you. "

She fell into step beside him, moving with the strong, lissom tread thatcame from controlled and deliberate power. 

"What is it you have to tell? If you were called away, why did you notleave a message for me?" she asked, a little imperiously. 

"I wasn't called away, Valencia. You were excited and angry. My opinionwas that Sebastian would speak if the matter was put to him right. So Icut the rope that tied him and we ran away through the back door of thehotel. "

Her dark eyes, proud and passionate, began to smoulder. But the voicewith which she answered him was silken smooth. 

"I see. You pretended to be working with me--and then you betrayed me. Is that it?"

"If you like, " he said with a little shrug. "I backed my judgmentagainst your impatience. And it turns out that I was right. "

"How? What has happened? Where is Sebastian?"

"He is galloping toward the hills as fast as he can--at least I hope heis. What happened is that he told me where Gordon is hidden. "

"Where?"

"At your house. When you were there to-day you must have passed withintwenty feet of him. "

"But--do you mean that Pablo and Sebastian took him there?"

"Exactly. They did not foresee that you would come to town, Valencia. "He added, after a moment: "I have seen Mr. Gordon, talked with him, andreleased him. At this moment he is in your brother's room, probablyasleep. "

All the sharpness had died out of the young woman's voice when sheturned to her cousin and spoke with a humility rare to her. 

"Forgive me, Manuel. I always know best about everything. I drive aheadand must have my own way, even when it is not the wise one. You did justright to ignore me. "

She laid her hand on his coat sleeve pleadingly, and he lifted it to hislips. 

"_Niña_ . .. The Queen can do no wrong. But I saw you were drivingSebastian to stubbornness. I tried to let him see we meant to be hisfriends if he would let us. "

"Yes, you were right. Tell me everything, please. " She paused just amoment before she said quietly: "But first, what about Mr. Gordon? He is. .. Uninjured?"

"Beaten and mauled and starved, but still of the gayest courage, "answered the Spaniard with enthusiasm. "Did I not say that he was ahero? My cousin, I say it again. The fear of death is not in his heart. "

He did not see the gleam in her dark eyes, the flush that beat into herdusky face. "Starved as well as beaten, Manuel?"

"They were trying to force him to give up his claim to the valley. Buthe--as I live the American is hard as Gibraltar. "

"They dared to starve him--to torture him. I shall see that they arepunished, " she cried with the touch of feminine ferocity that is theheritage of the south. 

"No need, Valencia, " returned Pesquiera with a dry little laugh. "Mr. Gordon has promised himself to attend to that. "

He told her the story from first to last. Intently she listened, scarcebreathing until he had finished. 

Manuel had told the tale with scrupulous fairness, but already hersympathies were turning. 

"And he wouldn't agree not to prosecute?" she asked. 

"No. It is his right to do so if he likes, Valencia. "

She brushed this aside with an impatient wave of her hand. "Oh, hisright! Doesn't he owe something to us--to me--and especially to you?"

"No, he owes me nothing. What I did was done for you, and not for him, "the Spaniard replied instantly. 

"Then to me at least he is in debt. I shall ask him to drop theprosecution. "

"He is what his people call straight. But he is hard--hard as jade. "

They were walking along a dark lane unlighted save by the stars. Valencia turned to him impetuously. 

"Manuel, you are good. You do not like this man, but you save himbecause--because my heart is torn when my people do wrong. For me youtake much trouble--you risk much. How can I thank you?"

"_Niña mia_, I am thanked if you are pleased. It is your love I seek, Heart of mine. " He spoke tremulously, taking her hands in his. 

For the beat of a heart she hesitated. "You have it. Have I not given myword that--after the American was saved----?"

He kissed her. Hers was a virginal soul, but full-blooded. Anunsuspected passion beat in her veins. Not for nothing did she have thedeep, languorous eyes, the perfect scarlet lips, the sumptuous grace ofan artist's ideal. Fires lay banked within her in spite of the finepurity of her nature. Nature had poured into her symmetrical mold a richabundance of what we call sex. 

The kisses of Manuel stirred within her new and strange emotions, thoughshe accepted rather than returned them. A faint vague unease chilled herheart. Was it because she had been immodest in letting him so far havehis way?

When they returned to the hotel Manuel's ring was on her finger. She wasdefinitely engaged to him. 

It was long before she slept. She thought of Manuel, the man chosen itseemed by Fate to be her mate. But she thought, too, of the lithe, broad-shouldered young American whose eyes could be so tender and againso hard. Why was it he persisted in filling her mind so much of thetime? Why did she both admire him and resent his conduct, trust him tothe limit one hour and distrust the next? Why was it that he--anunassuming American without any heroics--rather than her affianced loverseemed to radiate romance as he moved? She liked Manuel very much, sherespected him greatly, trusted him wholly, but--it was this curly-headedyouth of her mother's race that set her heart beating fast a dozen timesa day. 

She resolved resolutely to put him out of her mind. Had he not provedhimself unworthy by turning the head of Juanita, whom he could notpossibly expect to marry? Was not Manuel in every way worthy of herlove? Her finger touched the diamond ring upon her hand. She would keepfaith in thought as well as in word and deed. 

At last she fell asleep--and dreamed of a blond, gray-eyed youthfighting for his life against a swarm of attacking Mexicans. 

CHAPTER XX

DICK LIGHTS A CIGARETTE

Gordon met Miss Valdés in the El Tovar dining-room next morning. He wastrying at the same time to tell Davis the story of his kidnaping and toeat a large rare steak with French-fried potatoes. The young man hadchosen a seat that faced the door. The instant his eyes fell upon her hegave up both the story and the steak. Putting aside his napkin, he roseto meet her. 

She had fallen asleep thinking of him, her dreams had been full of hisvivid personality, and she had wakened to an eager longing for the sightof his gay, mocking eyes. But she had herself under such good controlthat nobody could have guessed how fast her heart was beating as herfingers touched his. 

"We are glad your adventure is ended, Mr. Gordon, and that it has turnedout no worse. Probably Mr. Davis has told you that he and I got ourheads together a great many times a day, " she said, a little formally. 

"You were mighty good to take so much interest in such a scalawag, " heanswered warmly. 

The color deepened ever so little in her face. "I couldn't let my mencommit murder under the impression they were doing me a service, " sheexplained lightly. "There are several things I want to talk over withyou. Can you call on me this morning, Mr. Gordon?"

"Can I?"

He put the question so forcefully that she smiled and dashed a bucket ofcold water over his enthusiasm. 

"If you'll be so good then. And bring Mr. Davis along with you, please. He'll keep us from quarreling too much. "

"I'll throw him out of the window if he don't behave right, " Davispromised joyfully. He was happy to-day, and he did not care who knew it. 

Valencia passed on to her table, and Dick resumed his seat. He had astrong interest in this young woman, but even the prospect of a talkwith her could not make him indifferent to the rare steak andFrench-fried potatoes before him. He was a healthy normal American inhis late twenties, and after several days of starvation well-cooked foodlooked very good to him. 

"There's some mail waiting for you upstairs--one of the letters is aregistered one, mailed at Corbett's, " his friend told him as they roseto leave. He was like a hen with one chick in his eagerness to supplyDick's wants and in his reluctance to let Gordon out of his sight. 

The registered letter was the one Valencia had sent him, inclosing theone written by her grandfather to her father. Her contrite little notewent straight to his emotions. If not in words, at least in spirit, itpleaded for pardon. Even the telegram she had wired implied anundeniable interest in him. Dick went with a light heart to theinterview she had appointed him. 

He slipped an arm through that of Davis. "Come on, you old bald-headedchaperone. Didn't you hear the lady give you a bid to her party thismo'ning? Get a move on you. "

"Ain't you going to let her invite get cold before you butt in?"retorted Steve amiably. 

Valencia took away from the dining-room a heart at war with itself. Thesight of his gaunt face, carrying the scars of many wounds and the linesmarked by hunger, stirred insurgent impulses. The throb of passion andof the sweet protective love that is at the bottom of every woman'stenderness suffused her cheeks with warm life and made her eyeswonderful. Out of the grave he had come back to her, this indomitablefoe who played the game with such gay courage. It was useless to tellherself that she was plighted to a better man, a worthier one. Scamp hemight be, but Dick Gordon held her heart in the hollow of his strongbrown hand. 

Some impulse of shyness, perhaps of reluctance, had restrained her fromwearing Manuel's ring at breakfast. But when she returned to her roomshe went straight to the desk where she had locked it and put thesolitaire on her finger. The fear of disloyalty drove her back to herbetrothed from the enticement of forbidden thoughts. She must putRichard Gordon out of her mind. It was worse than madness to be dreamingof him now that she was plighted to another. 

Gordon, coming eagerly to meet her, found a young woman more reserved, more distant. He was conscious of this even before his eyes stopped atthe engagement ring sparkling on her finger, the visible evidence thathis rival had won. 

"You have been treated cruelly, Mr. Gordon. Tell me that you are againall right, " she said, the color flooding her face at the searchingquestion of his eyes. 

"Right as a rivet, thanks. It is to you I owe my freedom, I suppose. "

"To Manuel, " she corrected. "His judgment was better than mine. "

"I can believe that. He didn't ride all night across dangerous mountainroads to save me. "

"Oh, that!" She tossed off his thanks with a little shrug. "They are soimpulsive, my boys . .. Like children, you know. .. . I was a little afraidthey might----"

"I was a little afraid myself they might, " he agreed dryly. "But whenyou say children--well, don't you think wolves is a more accurate termfor them?"

"Oh, no--no!" Her protest was quick, eager, imperative. "You don't knowhow loyal they can be--how faithful. They are really just like children, so impulsive--so unreasoning. "

"Afraid I can't enthuse with you on that subject for a day or two yet, "he answered with a laugh. "Truth is I found their childlike impulsesboth painful and annoying. Next time you see them you might mention thatI'm liable to have an impulse of my own they won't enjoy. "

"That's one of the things I want to talk with you about. Manuel says youmean to prosecute. I hope you won't. They're friends of mine. Theythought they were helping me. Of course I have no claim on you, but----"

"You have a claim, Miss Valdés. We'll take that up presently. Just nowwe're talking about a couple of criminals due for a term in thepenitentiary. I offered them terms. They wouldn't accept. Good enough. They'll have to stand the gaff, I reckon. "

She realized at once there was no use arguing with him. The steel in hiseyes told her he had made up his mind and was not to be moved. But shecould not desert her foolish dependents. 

"I know. What you say is quite true, but--I'll have to come to someagreement with you. I can't let them be punished for their loyalty tome. "

Her direct, unflinching look, its fearlessness, won his admiration. Inher slim suppleness, vibrant, feminine to the finger tips, alluring withthe unconscious appeal of sex, there was a fine courage to face franklyessential facts. But he was a hard man to move once he had made up hismind. For all his frivolous impudence and his boyish good nature, heknew his own mind, and held to it with the stiffness characteristic ofoutdoor Westerners. 

"You're not in this, Miss Valdés. I'll settle my own accounts with yourfriends Sebastian and Pablo. "

"But even for your own sake----" She stopped, intuitively aware thatthis was not the ground upon which to treat with him. He would neverdrop the charges against the Mexicans merely because there was danger inpressing them. 

"I reckon I'll have to try to look out for myself. Maybe next time Iwon't be so easy a mark, " he answered with an almost insolent laugh. 

Valencia was a little puzzled. Things were not going right, and she didnot quite know the reason. There was just a touch of bitterness in hisvoice, of aloofness in his manner. She did not know that the sight ofthe solitaire sparkling on her left hand stirred in him the impulse tohurt her, to refuse rather than concede her requests. 

"You're not going to push the cases against Pablo and Sebastian andstill try to live in the valley, are you?" she asked, beginning to feela little irritation at him. 

"That's just what I'm going to do. "

"You mustn't. I won't have it. Don't you see what my people will think, that because Pablo and Sebastian were loyal to me----"

His acrid smile cut her sentence in two. "That's about the third timeyou've mentioned their loyalty. Me, I don't see it. Sebastian owns landunder the Valdés grant. He didn't want me to take it from him. Mr. PabloMenendez--well, he had private reasons of his own, too. "

The resentment flamed in her heart. If he was shameless enough to referto the affair with Juanita she would let him know that she knew. 

"What were his reasons, Mr. Gordon--that is, if they are not a privateaffair between you and him?"

"Not at all. " The steel-blue eyes met hers, steadily. Dick was yieldingto a desire to hurt himself as well as her, to defy her judgment if shehad no better sense than to condemn him. "The idiot is jealous. "

"Jealous--why?" The angry color beat its way to the surface above hercheek bones. Her disdain was regal. 

"About Juanita. "

"What about Juanita?"

"The usual thing, Miss Valdés. He was afraid she had the bad taste toprefer another man to himself. "

Davis broke in. "Now, don't you be a goat, Dick. Miss Valdés, he----"

"If you please, Mr. Davis. I'm quite sure Mr. Gordon is able to defendhimself, " she replied scornfully. 

"Didn't know I _was_ defending myself. What's the charge against me?"asked the young miner with a touch of quiet insolence. 

"There isn't any--if you don't see what it is. And you're quite right, Mr. Gordon. Your difficulties with Pablo are none of my business. You'llhave to settle them yourselves--with Juanita's help. May I ask whetheryou received the registered letter I sent you, Mr. Gordon?"

Dick was angry. Her cool contempt told him that he had been condemned. He knew that he was acting like an irresponsible schoolboy, but he wouldnot justify himself. She might think what she liked. 

"Found it waiting for me this morning, Miss Valdés. "

"It was very fair and generous of you to send me the letter, I recognizethat fully. But of course I can't accept such a sacrifice, " she told himstiffly. 

"Not necessary you should. Object if I smoke here?"

Valencia was a little surprised. He had never before offered to smoke inthe house except at her suggestion. "As you please, Mr. Gordon. Whyshould I object?"

From his coat pocket Dick took the letter Don Bartolomé had written tohis son, and from his vest pocket a match. He twisted the envelope intoa spill, lit one end, and found a cigarette. Very deliberately he puffedthe cigarette to a glow, holding the letter in his fingers until it hadburned to a black flake. This he dropped in the fireplace, and alongwith it the unsmoked cigarette. 

[Illustration: Holding the letter in his fingers until it had burned toa black flake]

"Easiest way to settle that little matter, " he said negligently. 

"I judge you're a little impulsive, too, sometimes, Mr. Gordon, "Valencia replied coldly. 

"I never rode all night over the mountains to save a man who was tryingto rob me of my land, " he retorted. 

This brought a sparkle to her eyes. "I had to think of my foolish menwho were getting into trouble. "

"Was that why you offered a hundred dollars' reward for the arrest ofthese same men?" came his indolent, satiric reply. 

"Don Manuel offered the reward, " she told him haughtily. 

An impish smile was in his eyes. "At your suggestion, he tells me. And Iunderstand you insisted on paying the bill, Miss Valdés. "

"Why should he pay it? The men worked for me. They were brought up on myfather's place. They are my responsibility, not his, " she claimed withvisible irritation. 

"And now they're my responsibility, too--until I land them in thepenitentiary, " he added cheerfully. 

From his pocket he took a billbook and selected two fifty-dollar bills. These he offered to Valencia. 

She stood very straight. "You owe me nothing, sir. "

"I owe you the hundred dollars you paid to get hold of Sebastian. AndI'm going to pay it. "

"I don't acknowledge the debt. I wanted Sebastian for his sake, notyours. Certainly I shall not accept the money. "

"Just as you say. It isn't mine. Care if I smoke again?" he askedgenially. 

She caught his meaning in a flash. "Not at all. Burn them if you like. "

"Now, see here, " interrupted Davis amiably. "You're both acting like apair of kids. I'm not going to stand for any hundred-dollar smokes, Dick. Gimme those bills. " He snatched them from his friend and put themin his pocket. "When you two get reasonable again we'll decide whosemoney it is. Till then I expect I'll draw the interest on it. "

"And now, since our business is ended, I think I'll not detain you anylonger, Mr. Gordon, except to warn you that it will be foolhardy toreturn to the Rio Chama Valley with intentions such as you have. "

"Good of you to warn me, Miss Valdés. It's not the first time, either, is it? But I'm _that_ bull-headed. Steve will give me a recommend as themost sot chump in New Mexico. Won't you Steve?"

"I sure will--before a notary if you like. You've got a government mulebacked off the map. "

"I've done my duty, anyhow. " Miss Valdés turned to the older man, andsomehow the way she did it seemed to wipe Gordon out of the picture. "There is something I want to talk over with you, Mr. Davis. Can youwait a few moments?"

"Sure I can--all day if you like. "

Dick retired with his best bow. "Steve, you always was popular with theladies. "

Valencia, uncompromising, waited until he had gone. Then, swiftly, witha little leap of impulse as it were, she appealed to Davis. 

"Don't let him go back to the valley. Don't let him push the casesagainst Sebastian and Pablo. "

The old miner shook his head "Sorry, Miss Valencia. Wish I could stophim, but I can't. He'll go his own way--always would. "

"But don't you see they'll kill him. It's madness to go back there whilehe's pushing the criminal case. Before it was bad enough, but now----"She threw up her hands with a gesture of despair. 

"I reckon you're right. But I can't help it. "

"Then look out for him. Don't let him ride around in the hills. Don'tlet him leave the house at night. Never let him go alone. Remember thathe is in danger every hour while he remains in the valley. "

"I'll remember, Miss Valencia, " Davis promised. 

He wondered as he walked away why the talk between Dick and Miss Valdéshad gone so badly. He knew his friend had come jubilantly, prepared todo anything she asked of him. The fear and anxiety that had leaped toher face the instant Gordon had gone showed him that the girl had a deepinterest in the young man. She, too, had meant to meet him half way inwiping out the gulf between them. Instead, they had only increased it. 

CHAPTER XXI

WHEN THE WIRES WERE CUT

Don Manuel rode into the moonlit plaza of the Valdés ranch, dismounted, and flung the reins to the boy that came running. Pesquiera nodded acareless greeting and passed into the house. He did not ask of anyonewhere Valencia was, nor did he send in a card of announcement. A lover'sinstinct told him that he would find her in the room that served both asan office and a library for her, seated perhaps before the leapingfireglow she loved or playing softly on the piano in the darkness. 

The door was open, and he stood a moment on the threshold to getaccustomed to the dim light. 

A rich, low-pitched voice came across the room to him. 

"It is you, Manuel?"

He stepped swiftly forward to the lounge upon which she was lying andknelt on one knee beside her, lifting her hand to his lips. "It is I, _corazon mia_, even Manuel the lucky. "

She both smiled and sighed at that. A chord in her responded to theextravagance of his speech, even though vaguely it did not quitesatisfy. A woman of the warm-blooded south and no plaster saint, sheanswered presently with shy, reluctant lips the kisses of her lover. Whyshould she not? Had he not won her by meeting the test she had givenhim? Was he not a gallant gentleman, of her own race and caste, bound toher by ties of many sorts, in every way worthy to be the father of herchildren? If she had to stifle some faint, indefinable regret, was itnot right that she should? Her bridges were burned behind her. He wasthe man of her choice. She listened, eyes a little wistful, while hepoured out ardently the tale of his devotion. 

"You do love me, don't you, Manuel?" she demanded, a little fiercely. Itwas as if she wanted to drown any doubts she might have of her ownfeeling in the certainty of his. 

"More than life itself, I do believe, " he cried in a low voice. 

Her lithe body turned, so that her shining eyes were close to his. 

"Dear Manuel, I am glad. You don't know how worried I've been . .. Stillam. Perhaps if I were a man it would be different, but I don't want mypeople to take the life of this stranger. But they mean himharm--especially since he has come back and intends to punish Pablo andSebastian. I want them to let the law take its course. Something tellsme that we shall win in the end. I've talked to them--and talked--butthey say nothing except 'Si, doña. ' But with you to help me----"

"They'd better not touch him again, " broke in her lover swiftly. 

"It's a great comfort to me, Manuel, that you have blotted out your ownquarrel with him. It was magnanimous, what I should expect of you. "

He said nothing, but the hand that lay on hers seemed suddenly tostiffen. A kind of fear ran shivering through her. Quickly she rose fromthe couch. 

"Manuel, tell me that I am right, that you don't mean to . .. Hurt him?"Her dark eyes searched his unflinchingly. "You don't mean . .. You can'tmean . .. That----?"

"Let us forget the American and remember only that we love, my beloved, "he pleaded. 

"No . .. No!" The voice of the girl was sharp and imperative. "I want thetruth. Is it that you are still thinking of murdering him, Manuel?"

The sting of her words brought a flush to his cheeks. "I fight fair, Valencia. I set against his life my own, with all the happiness that hascome flooding it. Nor is it that I seek the man's life. For me he mightlive a thousand years--and welcome. But my honor----"

"No, Manuel. No--no--no! I will not have it. If you are betrothed to meyour life is mine. You shall not risk it in a barbarous duel. "

"Let us change the subject, dear heart. "

"Not till I hear you say that you have given up this wicked intention ofyours. "

He gave up the attempt to evade her and met her fairly as one man doesanother. 

"I can't say that, Valencia, not even for you. This quarrel lies betweenhim and me. I have suffered humiliation and disgrace. Until those arewiped out there must be war between me and the American. "

"Since the day I first wore your ring, Manuel, I have asked nothing ofyou. I ask now that you will forget the slight this man has put upon you. .. Because I ask it of you with all my heart. "

A slight tremor ran through his blood. He felt himself slipping from hisplace with her. 

"I can't, Valencia. You don't know what you ask, how impossible it isfor me--a Pesquiera, son of my honored fathers--to grant such arequest. " He stretched his hands toward her imploringly. 

"Yet you say you love me?"

"Heaven knows whether it is not true, my cousin. "

"You want me to believe that, even though you refuse the first realrequest I ever made of you?"

"Anything else in the world that is in my power. "

"It is easy to say that, Manuel, when it isn't something else I want. Give me this American's life. I shall know, then, that you love me. "

"You know now, " he answered quietly. 

"Is love all sighs and vows?" she cried impatiently. "Will it notsacrifice pride and vanity for the object of its devotion?"

"Everything but honor, " answered the man steadfastly. 

She made a gesture of despair. 

"What is this honor you talk so much about? It is neither Christian norlawful nor right. "

"It is a part of me, Valencia. "

"Then your ideas are archaic. The duel was for a time when every man hadto seek his personal redress. There is law in this twentieth century. "

"Not as between man and man in the case of a personal indignity--atleast, not for Manuel Pesquiera. "

"But it is so needless. We know you are brave; he knows it, too. Surelyyour vanity----"

He smiled a little sadly. 

"I think it is not vanity, but something deeper. None of my ancestorscould have tolerated this stigma, nor can their son. My will has nothingto do with it, and my desire still less. It is kismet. "

"Then you must know the truth--that if you kill this man I cannever----"

"Never what?"

"Never marry you. "

"Why?"

"His blood would stand between us. "

"Do you mean that you--love him?"

Her dark eyes met his steadily. 

"I don't think I mean that, Manuel. How could I mean that, since I loveyou and am betrothed to you? Sometimes I hate him. He is so insolent inhis daring. Then, too, he is my enemy, and he has come here to set thishappy valley to hate and evil. Yet, if I should hurt him, it would standbetween us forever. "

"I am sorry. "

"Only sorry, Manuel?"

He clamped his teeth on the torrent of protest that rose within him whenshe handed him back his ring. It would do no good to speak more. Theimmutable fact stood between them. 

"I did not know life could be so hard--and cruel, " she cried out in aburst of passion. 

She went to the open window and looked out upon the placid, peacefulvalley. She had a swift, supple way of moving, as if her musclesresponded with effortless ease to her volition; but the young mannoticed that to-night there was a drag to her motions. 

His heart yearned toward her. He longed mightily to take her in his armsand tell her that he would do as she wished. But, as he had said, something in him more potent than vanity, than pride, than his will, held him to the course he had set for himself. His views of honor mightbe archaic and ridiculous, but he lived by his code as tenaciously ashad his fathers. Gordon had insulted and humiliated him publicly. Hemust apologize or give him satisfaction. Until he had done one or theother Manuel could not live at peace with himself. He had put a powerfulcurb upon his desire to wait as long as he had. Circumstances had for atime taken the matter out of his hands, but the time had come when hemeant to press his claims. The American might refuse the duel; he couldnot refrain from defending himself when Pesquiera attacked. 

A step sounded in the doorway, and almost simultaneously a voice. 

"_Doña, _ are you here?"

The room was lighted only by the flickering fire; but Valencia, her eyesaccustomed to the darkness, recognized the boy as Juan Gardiez. 

"Yes, I am here, Juan. What have you to tell me?" she said quickly. 

"I do not know, _señorita_. But the men--Pablo, Sebastian; all ofthem--are gone. "

"Gone where?" she breathed. 

"I do not know. To-day I drove a cow and calf to Willow Springs. I ambut returned. The houses are empty. Señor Barela's wife says she saw menriding up the hill toward Corbett's--eight, nine, ten of them. "

"To Corbett's?" She stared whitely at him without moving. "How longago?"

"An hour ago--or more. "

"Saddle Billy at once and bring him round, " the girl ordered crisply. 

She turned as she spoke and went lightly to the telephone. With the needof action, of decision, her hopelessness was gone. There was a hard, bright light in her eyes that told of a resolution inflexible astempered steel when once aroused. 

"Give me Corbett's--at once, please. Hallo, Central--Corbett's----"

No answer came, though she called again and again. 

"There must be something wrong with the telephone, " suggested DonManuel. 

She dropped the receiver and turned quietly to him. 

"The wires have been cut. "

"But, why? What is it all about?"

"Merely that my men are anticipating you. They have gone to murder theAmerican. Deputy sheriffs from Santa Fé to-day came here to arrest Pabloand Sebastian. The men suspected and were hidden. Now they have gone topunish Mr. Gordon for sending the officers. "

She could not have touched him more nearly. He came to her with burningeyes. 

"How do you know? What makes you think so?"

She told him, briefly and simply, giving more detailed reasons. 

Without a word, he turned and left her. She could hear him rushingthrough the hall, traced his progress by the slamming of the door, andpresently caught sight of him running toward the corral. He did nothear, or heed, her call for him to wait. 

The girl hurried out of the house after him, in time to see him slap asaddle on his bronco, swing to his seat lightly, and gallop in a cloudof dust to the road. 

Valencia waited for no more. Quickly running to her room, she slipped ona khaki riding-skirt. Her deft, tapering fingers moved swiftly, so thatshe was ready, crop in hand, booted and spurred, by the time Juanbrought round her horse. 

It took but an instant to lift herself to the saddle and send Billygalloping forward. 

Already her cousin had disappeared in great clouds of dust over the browof the hill. 

CHAPTER XXII

THE ATTACK

Dick Gordon and Davis were sitting on the porch of their cabin, whichwas about an eighth of a mile from the main buildings of the Corbettplace. They had returned the day before from Santa Fé, along with twodeputy sheriffs who had come to arrest Pablo and Sebastian. The officershad scoured the valley for two days, and as yet had not caught a glimpseof the men they had come to get. Their inquiries were all met by adogged ignorance on the part of the Mexicans, who had of a sudden turnedsurprisingly stupid. No, they had seen nothing of Pablo or of Sebastian. They knew nobody of that name--unless it was old Pablo Gardiez the_señors_ wished to see. Many strangers desired to see him, for he wasmore than a hundred years old and still remembered clearly the old days. 

Gordon laughed at the discomfiture of his sleuths. "I dare say they mayhave been talking to the very men they wanted. But everybody hangstogether in this valley. I'm going out with them myself to-morrow afterthe gentlemen the law requires. "

"No, I wouldn't do that, Dick. With every greaser in the valleysimmering against you, it won't do for you to go trapsing right downamong them, " Davis explained. 

"That's where I'm going, anyhow--to-morrow morning. The deputies arestaying up at Morrow's. I'm going to phone 'em to-night that I'll ridewith them to-morrow. Bet you a new hat we flush our birds. "

"What's the sense of you going into the police business, Dick? I'll tellyou what's ailing you. You're just honing to see Miss Valdés again. Youwant to go grand-standing around making her mad at you some more. "

"You're a wiz, Steve, " admitted his friend dryly. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I do want to see her again. Why shouldn't I?"

"What good does it do you when you quarrel all the time you're together?She's declared herself already on this proposition--told the deputiesflat-footed that she wouldn't tell them anything and would help her boysto escape in any way she could. You're just like a kid showing off hismuscle before a little girl in the first grade. "

"All right, Steve. You don't hear me denying it. "

"Denying it, " snapped the old miner. "Hmp! Lot of good that would do. You're fair itching to get a chance to go down to the ranch and swaggeraround in plain sight of her lads. You'd be tickled to death if youcould cut out the two you want and land them here in spite of her andDon Manuel and the whole pack of them. Don't I know you? Nothing butvanity--that's all there's to it. "

"He's off, " murmured Dick with a grin to the scenery. 

"You make me tired. Why don't you try a little horse sense for a change?Honest, if you was a few years younger I'd put you acrost my knee andspank you. "

Gordon lit a cigarette, but did not otherwise contribute to theconversation. 

"Ain't she wearing another man's ring?" continued Davis severely. "What's bitin' you, anyhow? How many happy families you want to breakup? First off, there's Pablo and Juanita. You fill up her little noodlewith the notion that----"

Dick interrupted amiably. "Go to grass, you old granny. I've beenputting in my spare time since I came back letting Juanita understandthe facts. If she had any wrong notions she ain't got them any longer. She's all ready to kiss and make up with Pablo first chance she gets. "

"Then there's Miss Valdés and this Pesky fellow, who's the whitest brownman I ever did see. Didn't he run his fool laigs off getting you free soyou could go back and make love to his girl?"

"He's the salt of the earth. I'm for Don Manuel strong. But I don'treckon Miss Valdés would work well in harness with him, " explained Dick. 

Steve Davis snorted. "No, you reckon Dick Gordon would, though. Don'tyou see she's of his people--same customs, same ways, same----"

"She's no more of his people than she is of mine. Her mother was anAmerican girl. She was educated in Washington. New Mexico is in America, not in Spain. Don't forget that, you old croaker. "

"Well, she's engaged, ain't she? And to a good man. It ain't your putin. "

"A good one, but the wrong one. It's a woman's privilege to change hermind. I'm here to help her change it, " announced the young man calmly. "Say, look at Jimmie Corbett hitting the high spots this way. "

Jimmie, not yet recovered from a severe fright, stopped to explain theadventure that had befallen him while he had been night fishing. 

"I seen spooks, Mr. Gordon--hundreds of 'em--coming down the river bankon horseback--honest to goodness, I did. "

"Jimmie, if I had your imagination----"

But Davis cut into Dick's smiling incredulity:

"Did you say on horseback, Jimmie?"

"Yes, sir, on horseback. Hope to die if they weren't--'bout fifty ofthem. "

"You better run along home before they catch you, Jimmie, " advised theold miner gravely. 

The boy went like a streak of light. Davis turned quietly to hispartner. 

"I reckon it's come, Dick. "

"You believe the boy did see some men on horseback? It might have beenonly shadows. "

"No, sir. His imagination wouldn't have put spooks _on horseback_. Wegot no time to argue. You going to hold the fort here or take to thehills?"

"You think they mean to attack us in the open?"

"They're hoping to surprise us, I reckon. That's why they're comingalong the creek instead of the road. Hadn't 'a' been for Jimmie, theywould have picked us off from the porch before we could say 'JackRobinson. '"

Both men had at once stepped within the log cabin, and, as they talked, were strapping on ammunition belts and looking to their rifles andrevolvers. 

"There are too many doors and windows to this cabin. We can't hold itagainst them. We'll take the trail from the back door that leads up tothe old spring. From up there we'll keep an eye on them, " said Dick. 

"I see 'em coming, " cried the older man softly from the front window. "They ain't on the trail, but slipping up through the rocks. One--two--three--four--Lord, there's no end to the beggars! They're onfoot now. Left their hawsses, I expect, down by the river. "

Quietly the two men stepped from the back door of the cabin and swiftlyascended the little trail that rose at a sharp acclivity to the spring. At some height above the cabin, they crouched behind boulders andwatched the cautious approach of the enemy. 

"Not taking any chances, are they?" murmured Gordon. 

Steve laughed softly. 

"Heard about that chicken-killing affair, mebbe, and none of themanxious to add a goose to the exhibit. "

"It would be right easy to give that surprise party a first-classsurprise, " chuckled Dick. "Shall I drop a pill or two down among them, just to let them know we're on the premises?"

"Now, don't you, Dick. We'll have to put half of 'em out of biz, and getshot up by the rest, if you do. "

"All right. I'll be good, Steve. I was only joking, anyhow. But itce'tainly is right funny to sit up here and watch them snake up to theempty cabin. See that fellow with the Mexican hat? I believe it's myjealous friend Pablo. He's ce'tainly anxious to get one Gringo's scalp. I could drop a stone down on him so he'd jump about 'steen feet. "

"There's one reached the window. He's looking in mighty careful, youbet. Now he's beckoning the other fellows. I got a notion he's made adiscovery. "

"Got on to the fact that the nest's empty. They're pouring in like bees. Can you make out how many there are? I count nine, " said Dick. 

"They're having a powwow now. All talking with their hands, the waygreasers do. Go to it, boys. A regular debating society, ain't you?"

"Hello! What's that mean?" broke in Gordon. 

One of the Mexicans had left the rest, and was running toward theCorbett house. 

"Gone to find whether we're on the porch with the family, up there, "continued the young man, answering his own question. 

"What's the matter with beating it while we've got a chanct?"

"I'm going to stay right here. You can go if you like, Steve?"

"Oh, well. I just suggested it. " Davis helped himself to a chew oftobacco placidly. 

"Fellow coming back from the house already, " he presently added. 

"Got the wrong address again. They'll be happening on the right onepretty soon. "

"Soon as they're amply satisfied we ain't under the beds, or hid betweenthe covers of some of them magazines. Blamed if they ain't lit a lamp. "

Gordon gave a sudden exclamation of dismay. A Mexican had appeared atthe back door of the cottage with a tin box in his hand. 

"I'm the blamedest idiot out of an asylum, " he cried bitterly. "All theproofs of my claim are in that box. You know I brought it back fromSanta Fé with me. "

"Ain't that too bad?"

Gordon rose, the lines of his mouth set fast and hard. 

"I'm going down after it. If I lose those papers, the whole game'sspoilt for me. I've got to have them, and I'm going to. "

"Don't be a goat. How can you take it from a whole company of them?"

"I'll watch my chance. It may be the fellow will hide it somewhere tillhe wants it again. "

"I'm going, too, then. "

"See here, Steve. Be sensible. If we both go down, it's a sure thingthey will stumble on us. "

"Too late, anyhow. They're coming up after us. "

"So much the better. We'll cut across to the left, slip down, and takethem in the rear. Likely as not we'll find it there. "

"All right. Whatever you say, Dick. "

They slipped away into the semi-darkness, taking advantage of every bitof cover they could find. Not until they were a long stone's throw fromthe trail did the young miner begin the descent. 

Occasionally they could hear voices over to the right as they silentlyslipped down. It was no easy thing to negotiate that stiff mountainsidein the darkness, where a slip would have sent one of them rolling downinto the sharp rock-slide beneath. Presently they came to a rockrim, asheer descent of twenty-five feet down the perpendicular face of acliff. 

They followed the ledge to the left, hoping to find a trough throughwhich they might discover a way down. But in this they weredisappointed. 

"We'll have to go back. There's a place we passed where perhaps it maybe done. We've got to try it, anyhow, " said Gordon, in desperation. 

Retracing their steps, they came to the point Dick had meant. It lookedbad enough, in all conscience, but from the rocks there jutted halfwaydown a dwarf oak that had found rooting in a narrow cleft. 

The young man worked his body over the edge, secured a foothold in sometiny scarp that broke the smoothness of the face, and groped, with onehand and then the other, for some hold that would do to brace hisweight. He found one, lowered himself gingerly, and tested anotherfoothold in a little bunch of dry moss. 

"All right. My rifle, Steve. "

It was handed down. At that precise moment there came to them the soundof approaching voices. 

"Your gun, Steve! Quick. Now, then, over you come. That's right--no, theother hand--your foot goes there--easy, now. "

They stood together on a three-inch ledge, their heels projecting overspace. Nor had they reached this precarious safety any too soon, foralready their pursuers were passing along the rim above. 

One of them stopped on the edge, scarce eight feet above them. 

"They must have come this way, " he said to a companion. "But I expectthey're hitting the trail about a mile from here. "

"_Si, Pablo_. Can you feed me a cigareet?" the other asked. 

The men below, scarce daring to breathe, waited, while the matchesglimmered and the cigarettes puffed to a glow. Every instant theyanticipated discovery; and they were in such a position that, if itcame, neither of them could use his weapons. For they were crampedagainst the wall with their rifles by their sides, so bound by thesituation that to have lifted them to aim would have been impossible. 

"The American--he has escaped us this time, " one of them said as theymoved off. 

"_Maldito_, the devil has given him wings to fly away, " replied Pablo. 

After the sound of their footsteps had died, Gordon resumed his descent. He reached the stunted oak in safety, and was again joined by hisfriend. 

"Looks like we're caught here, Steve. There ain't a sign of a footholdbelow, " the younger man whispered. 

"Mebbe the branches of that tree will bend over. "

"We'll have to try it, anyhow. If it breaks with me, I'll get to thebottom, just the same. Here goes. "

Catching hold of the branches, he swung down and groped with his feetfor a resting-place. 

"Nothing doing, Steve. "

"What blamed luck!"

"Hold on! Here's a cleft, away over to the right. Let me get a hold onthat gun to steady me. That's all right. The rest's easy. I'll give youa hand across--that's right. Now we're there. "

At the very foot of the cliff an unexplainable accident occurred. Dick'srifle went off with noise enough to wake the seven sleepers. 

"Come on, Steve. We got to get out of here, " he called to his partner, and began to run down the hill toward their cabin. 

He covered ground so fast that the other could not keep up with him. From above there came the crack of a rifle, then another and another, asthe men on the ridge sighted their prey. A spatter of bullets threw upthe dirt around them. Dick felt a red-hot flame sting his leg, but, though he had been hit, to his surprise he was not checked. 

Topping the brow of a little rise, he caught sight of the cabin, and, tohis consternation, saw that smoke was pouring from the door and thatwithin it was alight with flames. 

"The beggars have set fire to it, " he cried aloud. 

So far as he could see, four men had been left below. They did not atfirst catch sight of him as he dodged forward in the shadows of thealders at the foot of the hill. Nor did they see him even when hestopped among the rocks at the rear, for their eyes were on Davis andtheir attention focused upon him. 

He had come puffing to the brow of the hillock Gordon had alreadypassed, when a shout from the ridge apprised those below of hispresence. Cut off above and below, there was nothing left for Steve buta retreat down the road. He could not possibly advance in the face offour rifles, and he knew, too, that the best aid he could offer hisfriend was to deflect the attention of the watchers from him. 

He fell back promptly, running from boulder to boulder in his retreat, pursued cautiously by the enemy. His ruse would have succeededadmirably, so far as Dick was concerned, except for that young manhimself. He could not sit quiet and see his friend the focus of thefire. 

Wherefore, it happened that the attackers of Davis were haltedmomentarily by a disconcerting fusillade from the rear. The "Americandevil" had come out into the open, and was dropping lead among them. 

At this juncture a rider galloped into view from the river gorge alongwhich wound the road. He pulled his jaded horse to a halt beside the oldminer and leaped to the ground. 

Without waiting an instant for their fire to cease, he ran straightforward toward the pursuing Mexicans. 

As he came into the moonlight, Dick saw with surprise that the newcomerwas Don Manuel Pesquiera. He was hatless, apparently too unarmed. Butnot for a second did this stop him as he sprinted forward. 

Straight for the spitting rifles Don Manuel ran, face ablaze with anger. He had covered half the distance before the weapons wavered groundward. 

"Don Manuel!" cried Sebastian, perturbed by this apparition flyingthrough the night toward them. 

Dick waited only long enough to make sure that hostilities had for themoment ceased against his friend before beginning his search for the tinbox. 

He quartered back and forth over the ground behind the burning housewithout result, circled it rapidly, his eyes alert to catch the shine ofthe box in the moonbeams, and examined the space among the rocks at thebase of the hill. Nowhere did he see what he wanted. 

"I'll have to take a whirl at the house. Some of them may have carriedit back inside, " he told himself. 

As he stepped toward the door, Don Manuel came round the corner. At hisheels were Steve and the four Mexicans who had but a few minutes beforebeen trying industriously to exterminate the miner. 

Don Manuel bowed punctiliously to Gordon. 

"I beg to express my very great regrettance at this untimely attack, " hesaid. 

"Don't mention it, _don_. This business of chasing over the hills in themoonlight is first-class for the circulation of the blood, I expect. Most of us got quite a bit of exercise, first and last. "

Dick spoke with light irony; but one distraught half of his attentionwas upon the burning house. 

"Nevertheless, you will permeet me to regret, _señor_, " returned theyoung Spaniard stiffly. 

"Ce'tainly. You're naturally sore that you didn't get first crack at me. Don't blame you a bit, " agreed Dick cheerfully but absently. "Funnything is that one of your friends happened to send his message to myaddress, all right. Got me in the left laig, just before you butted inand spoiled their picnic so inconsiderate. "

"You are then wounded, sir?"

"Not worth mentioning, _don_. Just a little accident. Wouldn't happenagain in a thousand years. Never did see such poor shots as your valleylads. Say, will you excuse me just a minute? I got some awful importantbusiness to attend to. "

"Most entirely, Señor Gordon. "

"Thanks. Won't be a minute. "

To Pesquiera's amazement, he dived through the door, from which smokepoured in clouds, and was at once lost to sight within. 

"He is a madman, " the Spaniard murmured. 

"Or devil, " added Sebastian significantly. "You will see, _señor_, hewill come out safe and unharmed. "

But he did not come out at all, though the minutes dragged themselvesaway one after another. 

"I'm going after him, " cried Davis, starting forward. 

But Don Manuel flung strong arms about him, and threw the miner backinto the hands of the Mexicans. 

"Hold him, " he cried in Spanish. 

"Let me go. Let me go, I say!" cried the miner, struggling with thosewho detained him. 

But Pesquiera had already gone to the rescue. He, too, plunged throughthe smoke. Blinded unable to breathe, he groped his way across the doorlintel into the blazing hut. 

The heat was intense. Red tongues of flame licked out from all sidestoward him. But he would not give up, though he was gasping for breathand could not see through the dense smoke. 

A sweep of wind brushed the smoke aside for an instant, and he saw thebody of his enemy lying on the floor before him. He stooped, tried topick it up, but was already too far gone himself. 

Almost overcome, he sank to his knees beside Gordon. Close to the floorthe air was still breathable. He filled his lungs, staggered to hisfeet, and tried to drag the unconscious man across the threshold withhim. 

A hundred fiery dragons sprang unleashed at him. The heat, the stiflingsmoke were more than flesh and blood could endure. He stumbled over afallen chair, got up and plowed forward again, still with that deadweight in his arms; collapsed again, and yet once more pulled himself tohis feet by the sheer strength of the dogged will in him. 

So, at last, like a drunken man, he reeled into safety, the very hairand clothes of the man on fire from the inferno he had just left. 

A score of eager hands were ready to relieve him of his burden, tosupport his lurching footsteps. Two of them were the strong brown handsof the woman he loved more than any other on earth, the woman who hadgalloped into sight just in time to see him come staggering from thatfurnace with the body of the man who was his hated rival. It was hersoft hands that smothered the fire in his hair, that dragged the burningcoat from his back. 

He smiled wanly, murmured "Valencia, " and fainted in her arms. 

Gordon clutched in his stiffened fingers a tin box blistered by theheat. 

CHAPTER XXIII

THE TIN BOX

Dick Gordon lay on a bed in a sunny south room at the Corbett place. 

He was swathed in bandages, and had something the appearance of a relicof the Fourth of July, as our comic weeklies depict Young America theday after that glorious occasion. But, except for one thing which he hadon his mind, the Coloradoan was as imperturbably gay as ever. 

He had really been a good deal less injured than his rescuer; for, though a falling rafter had struck him down as he turned to leave thehut, this very accident had given him the benefit of such air as therehad been in the cabin. Here and there he had been slightly burned, buthe had not been forced to inhale smoke. 

Wound in leg and all, the doctor had considered him out of danger longbefore he felt sure of Don Manuel. 

The young Spaniard lay several days with his life despaired of. The mostunremitting nursing on the part of his cousin alone pulled him through. 

She would not give up; would not let his life slip away. And, in theend, she had won her hard fight. Don Manuel, too, was on the road torecovery. 

While her cousin had been at the worst, Valencia Valdés saw the woundedColoradoan only for a minute of two each day; but, with Pesquiera'srecovery, she began to divide her time more equitably. 

"I've been wishing I was the bad case, " Dick told her whimsically whenshe came in to see him. "I'll bet I have a relapse so the head nursewon't always be in the other sick room. "

"Manuel is my cousin, and he has been very, very ill, " she answered inher low, sweet voice, the color in her olive cheeks renewed at hiswords. 

The eyes of the Anglo-Saxon grew grave. 

"How is Don Manuel to-night?"

"Better. Thank Heaven. "

"That's what the doctor told me. "

Dick propped himself on an elbow and looked directly at her, thataffectionate smile of his on his face. 

"Miss Valdés, do you know, ever since I've been well enough, I've beenhoping that if one of us had to cross the Great Divide it would be me?"

Her troubled eyes studied him. 

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it would seem more right that way. I came here and made allthis trouble in the valley. I insulted him. I had in mind another hurtto him that we won't discuss just now. Then, when it comes to ashowdown, he just naturally waltzes into Hades and saves my life for meat the risk of his own. No, ma'am, I sure couldn't have stood it if hehad died. "

"I'm glad you feel that way, " she answered softly, her eyes dim. 

"How else could I feel, and be a white man? I tell you, it makes me feelmean to think about that day I threw him in the water. Just because I'ma great big husky, about the size of two of him, I abused my strengthand----"

"Just a moment, " the girl smiled. "You are forgetting he struck youfirst. "

"Oh, well! I reckon I could have stood that. "

"Will you be willing to tell him how you feel about it?"

"Will I? Well, I guess yes. "

The young woman's eyes were of starry radiance. "I'm so glad--so happy. I'm sure everything will come right, now. "

He nodded, smiling. 

"That's just the way I feel, Miss Valencia. They couldn't go wrong, after this--that is, they couldn't go clear wrong. "

"I'm quite certain of that. "

"I want to go on record as saying that Manuel Pesquiera is the gamestman I know. That isn't all. He's a thoroughbred on top of it. If I liveto be a hundred I'll never be as fine a fellow. My hat's off to him. "

There was a mist in her soft eyes as she poured a glass of ice water forhim. "I'm so glad to hear you say that. He _is_ such a splendid fellow. "

He observed she was no longer wearing the solitaire and thought it mightbe to spare his feelings. So he took the subject as a hunter does afence. 

"I wish you all the joy in the world, Miss Valdés. I know you're goingto be very happy. I've got my wedding present all picked out for you, "he said audaciously. 

She was busy tidying up his dresser, but he could see the color flameinto her cheeks. 

"You have a very vivid imagination, Mr. Gordon. "

"Not necessary in this case, " he assured her. 

"You're quite sure of that, I suppose, " she suggested with a touch ofironic mockery. 

"I haven't read any announcement in the paper, " he admitted. 

"It is always safe to wait for that. "

"Which is another way of saying that it is none of my business. But thenyou see it is. " He offered no explanation of this statement, nor did hegive her time to protest. "Now about that wedding present, Miss Valdés. It's in a tin box I had in the cabin before the fire. Can you tell mewhether it was saved? My recollection is that I had it at the time therafter put me to sleep. But of course I don't remember anything moretill I found myself in bed here. "

"A tin box? Yes; you had it in your hands when Manuel brought you out. They could hardly pry your fingers from it. "

"Would you mind having that box brought to me, Miss Valdés? I want to besure the present hasn't been injured by fire. "

"Of course not. I don't just know where it is, but it must be somewhereabout the place. "

She was stepping toward the door, with that fine reaching grace of afawn that distinguished her, when his voice stopped her. She stopped, delicate head poised and half turned, apparently waiting for furtherdirections. 

"Not just this minute, please. I've been lying here all day, with nobodybut Steve. Finally he got so restless I had to turn him out to pasture. It wouldn't be right hospitable to send you away so soon. That box canwait till you have had all of me you can stand. What I need is goodnursing, and I need it awful bad, " he explained plaintively. 

"Has Mrs. Corbett been neglecting you?"

"Mrs. Corbett--no!" he shouted with a spirit indomitable, but a voicestill weak. "She's on earth merely to cook me chicken broth and custard. It's you that's been neglecting me. "

The gleam of a strange fire was in her dark, bright eyes; in her cheeksthe soft glow of beating color. 

"And _my_ business on earth is to fight you, is it not? But I can't dothat till you are on your feet again, sir. "

He gave her back her debonair smile. 

"I'm not so sure of that. Women fight with the weapons of their sex--andoften win, I'm told. "

"You mean, perhaps, tears and appeals for pity. They are weapons Icannot use, sir. I had liefer lose. "

"I dare say there are other weapons in your arsenal. I know you're toogame to use those you've named. "

"What others?" she asked quietly. 

He let his eyes rest on her, sweep over her, and come back to themeeting with hers. But he did not name them. Instead, he came to anotherangle of the subject. 

"You never know when you are licked, do you? Why don't you ask me tocompromise this land grant business?"

"What sort of a compromise have you to offer, sir?" she said after apause. 

"Have your lawyers told you yet that you have no chance?"

"Would it be wise for me to admit I have none, before I go to discussthe terms of the treaty?" she asked, and put it so innocently that heacknowledged the hit with a grin. 

"I thought that, if you knew you were going to lose, you might be easierto deal with. I'm such a fellow to want the whole thing in my bargains. "

"If that's how you feel, I don't think I'll compromise. "

"Well, I didn't really expect you would. I just mentioned it. "

"It was very good of you. Now I think I'll go back to my cousin. "

"If you must I'm coming over to his room as soon as the doc will let me, and as soon as he'll see me. "

She gave him a sudden flash of happy eyes. "I hope you will. There mustbe no more trouble between him and you. There couldn't be after this, could there?"

He shook his head. 

"Not if it takes two to make a quarrel. He can say what he wants to, make a door-mat out of me, go gunning after me till the cows come home, and I won't do a thing but be a delegate to a peace conference. No, ma'am. I'm through. "

"You don't know how glad I am to hear it. "

"Are you as anxious I should make up my quarrel with you as the oneswith your friends?" he asked boldly. 

The effrontery of this lean, stalwart young American--if effrontery itwas, and no other name seemed to define it--surprised another dash ofroses into the olive. 

"The way to make up your quarrel with me is to make up those with myfriends, " she answered. 

"All right. Suits me. I'll call those deputies off and send them home. Pablo and Sebastian will never go to the pen on my evidence. They're inthe clear so far as I'm concerned. "

She gave him both her hands. "Thank you. Thank you. I'm _so_ glad. "

The tears rose to her eyes. She bit her lip, turned and left the room. 

He called after her:

"Please don't forget my tin box. "

"I'll remember your precious box, " she called back with a pretense ofscorn. 

He laughed to himself softly. There was sunshine in his eyes. 

She had resolved to leave him to Mrs. Corbett in future, but within thehour she was back. 

"I came about your tin box. Nobody seems to know where it is. Everybodyremembers having seen it in your hands. I suppose we left it on theground when we brought you to the house, but I can't find anybody thatremoved it. Perhaps some of my people have seen it. I'll send and askthem. "

He smiled disconsolately. 

"I may as well say good-bye to it. "

"If you mean that my boys are thieves, " she retorted hotly. 

"I didn't say that, ma'am; but mebbe I did imply they wouldn't returnthat particular box, when they found what was in it. I shouldn't blamethem if they didn't. "

"I should. Very much. This merely shows you don't understand us at all, Mr. Gordon. "

"I wish I had that box. It ce'tainly disarranges my plans to have itgone, " he said irritably. 

"I assure you I didn't take it. "

"I don't lay it to you, though it would ce'tainly be to your advantageto take it, " he laughed, already mollified. 

"Will you please explain that?"

"All my claims of title to this land grant are in that box, MissValdés, " he remarked placidly, as if it were a matter of no consequence. 

She went white at his words. 

"And it is lost--probably in the hands of my people. We must get itback. "

"But you're on the other side of the fence, " he reminded her gaily. 

With dignity she turned on him. 

"Do you think I want to beat you that way? Do you think I am ahighwayman, or that I shall let my people be?"

"You make them draw the line between murder and robbery, " he suggestedpleasantly. 

"I couldn't stop them from attacking you, but I can see they don't keepyour papers--all the more, that it is to their interest and mine to keepthem. "

She said it with such fine girlish pride, her head thrown a little back, her eyes gleaming, scorn of his implied distrust in her very carriage. For long he joyfully carried the memory of it. 

Surely, she was the rarest creature it had ever been his fortune tomeet. Small wonder the gallant Spaniard Don Manuel loved her. Smallwonder her people fed on her laughter, and were despondent at herfrowns. 

Dick Gordon was awake a good deal that night, for the pain and the feverwere still with him; but the hours were short to him, full of joy andalso of gloom. Shifting pictures of her filled the darkness. Hisimagination saw her in many moods, in many manners. And when from timeto time he dropped into light sleep, it was to carry her into hisdreams. 

CHAPTER XXIV

DICK GORDON APOLOGIZES

Don Manuel was at first too spent a man even to wish to get well. As hiscousin's nursing dragged him farther and farther back into this worldfrom which he had so nearly slipped, he was content to lie still andtake the goods the gods provided. 

She was with him for the present. That sufficed. Whether he lived ordied he did not care a hand's turn; but the while Fate flipped a coin todetermine whether it should be life or death for him, he had Valencia'slove as he feared he would never have it in case he recovered. 

For these days she lived for him alone. Her every thought and desire hadbeen for him. On this his soul fed, since he felt that, as they slippedback into the ordinary tide of life, she would withdraw herself gentlybut surely from him. 

He had fought against the conviction that she loved his rival, theColorado claimant to the valley. He had tried to persuade himself thather interest in the miner was natural under the circumstances andentirely independent of sentiment. But in the bottom of his heart suchassurances did not convince. 

"You will be able to sit up in a few days. It's wonderful how you haveimproved, " she told him one day as she finished changing his pillow. 

"Yes, I shall be well soon. You will be relieved of me, " he said with akind of gentle sadness. 

"As if I wanted to be, " she reproved softly, her hand smoothing down hishair. 

"No. You're very good to me. You don't want to be rid of me. But it'sbest you should be. I have had all of you that's good for me, my cousin, unless I could have more than I dare hope. "

She looked through the window at the sunlit warmth of the land, and, after a long time, said:

"Must we talk of that, Manuel?"

"No, _niña_--not if I am once sure. I have guessed; but I must becertain beyond the possibility of mistake. Is my guess right? That itcan never be. "

She turned dim eyes on him and nodded. A lump had risen to her throatthat forbade speech. 

"I can still say, dearest, that I am glad to have loved you, " heanswered cheerfully, after an instant's silence. "And I can promise thatI shall trouble you no more. Shall we talk of something else?"

"There is one thing I should like to tell you first, " she said withpretty timidity. "How proud I am that such a man could have loved me. You are the finest man I know. I must be a foolish girl not to--care foryou--that way. "

"No. A woman's heart goes where it must. If a man loses, he loses. "

She choked over her words. "It doesn't seem fair. I promised. I woreyour ring. I said that if you saved . .. Him . .. I would marry you. Manuel, I . .. I'll keep faith if you'll take me and be content to waitfor . .. That kind of love to grow. "

"No, my cousin. I have wooed and lost. Why should you be bound by apledge made at such a time? As your heart tells you to do, so you mustdo. " He added after a pause: "It is this American, is it not?"

Again she nodded twice, not looking at him lest she see the pain in hiseyes. 

"I wish you joy, Valencia--a world full of it, so long as life lasts. "

He took her fingers in his, and kissed them before he passed lightly toanother subject:

"Have you heard anything yet of the tin box of Mr. Gordon's?"

She accepted the transition gratefully, for she was so moved she wasafraid lest she break down. 

"Not yet. It is strange, too, where it has gone. I have had inquiriesmade every where. "

"For me, I hope it is never found. Why should you feel responsibility tosearch for these papers that will ruin you and your tenants?"

"If my men had not attacked and tried to murder him he would still havehis evidence. I seek only to put him in the position he was in before weinjured him. "

"You must judge for yourself, Valencia. But, if you don't mind, I shallcontinue to wish you failure in your search, " he replied. 

It was now that Jimmie Corbett came into the room to say that Mr. Gordonwould like to call on Don Manuel, if the latter felt able to receivehim. 

Pesquiera did not glance at his cousin. He answered the boy at once. 

"Tell Mr. Gordon I shall be very glad to see him, " he said quietly. 

Nor did he look at her after the boy had left the room, lest his gazeembarrass her, but gave his attention wholly to propping himself up onhis elbow. 

Dick stood a moment filling the doorway before he came limping into theroom. From that point he bowed to Miss Valdés, then moved forward to thebed. 

He did not offer to shake hands, but stood looking down at his rival, with an odd look of envy on his face. But it was the envy of a brave andgenerous man, who acknowledged victory to his foe. 

"I give you best, Don Manuel, " he finally said. "You've got me beat atevery turn of the road. You saved my life again, and mighty near paidwith your own. There ain't anything to say that will cover that, Ireckon. "

The Spaniard's eyes met his steadily, but Pesquiera did not say a word. He was waiting to see what the other meant. 

"You're a gamer man than I am, and a better one. All I can say is thatI'm sorry and ashamed of myself for the way I treated you. If you stillwant to fight me, I'll stand up and give you a chance to pepper me. Anything you think right. "

"If you put it so, sir, I have no choice but to join you in regrets andhopes of future amity. "

"I can understand that you'd like to spill me over a ten-acre lot, andthat you don't listen to my apologies with any joy, " said theColoradoan, smiling whimsically down at his former foe. 

"I do not forget that the first offense was mine, _Señor Gordon_, " theSpaniard answered. 

Then came Jimmie Corbett again with a message for Miss Valdés. 

"Pablo wants to see you, ma'am. Just rode over from the ranch. Says it'simportant. "

The hands of the two men met in a strong grip as Valencia left the room, and so, too, did their steady gazes. Each of them knew that the otherwas his rival for the heart of the girl. Oddly enough, each thought theother was the successful suitor. But there was in each some quality ofmanliness that drew them together in spite of themselves. 

Valencia found Pablo sitting on the porch. A rifle lay across his kneesready for emergencies. The deputies had ridden away to the other end ofthe valley that morning, but Menendez did not intend to be caughtnapping in case of their unexpected return. 

Miss Valdés smiled. "You needn't be so careful, Pablo. I bring you goodnews--better than you deserve. Mr. Gordon has promised to drop the casesagainst you and Sebastian. Even if the officers arrest you, nothing cancome of it except a trip to Santa Fé for a few days. If I were you Iwould give myself up. The rewards have been withdrawn, so it is notlikely your friends will betray you. "

"But, _Doña_, are you sure? Will this _Americano_ keep his word? Is itcertain they will not hold me in prison?"

"I tell you it is sure. Is that not enough? Did you find Mr. Gordon soready to give you his word and break it when he was your prisoner?"

"True, _Doña_. He laughed at us and told us to kill him. He is a braveman. "

"And brave men do not lie. "

Pablo turned to his horse and took down from the horn of the saddle agunny sack tied to it. This he opened. From it he drew a tin box thathad been badly blistered with heat. 

"It is _Señor_ Gordon's tin box. After you carried him to the house herethe other night I found it under a cottonwood. So I took it home withme. They are papers. Important---- Is it not so?"

"Yes. I have been looking everywhere for them. You did right to bringthem back to me. "

"Perhaps they may help you win the land. Eh, _Doña_?"

"Perhaps. You know I offered a reward of twenty-five dollars for thebox. It is yours. Buy some furniture with it when you and Juanita go tohousekeeping. "

"That is all past, alas, _Señorita_. Juanita looks down her nose when Iam near. She does not speak to me. "

"Foolish boy! That is a sign she thinks much of you. Tell her you didwrong to accuse her. Beg her to forgive you. Do not sulk, but love herand she will smile on you. "

"But--this _Señor_ Gordon?"

"All nonsense, Pablo. I have talked with Juanita. It is you she loves. Go to her and be good to her. She is back there in the milkhousechurning. But remember she is only a girl--so young, and motherless, too. It is the part of a man to be kind and generous and forbearing to awoman. He must be gentle--always gentle, if he would hold her love. Canyou do that, Pablo? Or are you only a hot-headed, selfish, foolish boy?"

"I will try, _Doña_, " he answered humbly. "For always have I love' hersince she was such a little _muchacha_. "

"Then go. Don't tell her I sent you. She must feel you have come becauseyou could no longer stay away. "

Pablo flashed his teeth in a smile of understanding and took the paththat led round the house. He followed it to the sunken cellar that hadbeen built for a milkhouse. Noiselessly he tiptoed down the steps andinto the dark room. The plop-plop of a churn dasher told him Juanita washere even before his eyes could make her out in the darkness. 

Presently he saw more clearly the slender figure bent a little wearilyover the churn. Softly he trod forward. His hand went out and closed onthe handle above hers. In startled surprise she turned. 

"You--Pablo!" she cried faintly. 

"I have so longed to see you--to come to you and tell you I was wrong, _niña_---- Oh, you don't know how I have wanted to come. But mypride--my hard, foolish pride--it held me back. But no longer, heart ofmy heart, can I wait. Tell me that you forgive--that you will love meagain--in spite of what I said and have done. I cannot get along withoutmy little Juanita, " he cried in the soft Spanish that was native to themboth. 

She was in his arms, crying softly, nestling close to him so that hislove might enfold her more warmly. Always Juanita had been a soft, clinging child, happy only in an atmosphere of affection. She respondedto caresses as a rose does to the sunlight. Pablo had been her firstlover, the most constant of them all. She had relied upon him as a childdoes upon its mother. When he had left her in anger and not returned shehad been miserably unhappy. Now all was well again, since Pablo had comeback to her. 

CHAPTER XXV

THE PRINCE CONSORT

Valencia returned to Don Manuel's room carrying a gunny sack. She foundDick Gordon sitting beside his rival's bed amiably discussing with himthe respective values of the Silver Doctor and the Jock Scott for nightfishing. Dick rose at her entrance to offer a chair. 

She was all fire and animation. Her eyes sparkled, reflecting light aslittle wavelets of a sun-kissed lake. 

"Supreme Court decision just come down in your favor?" asked the otherclaimant to the valley with genial irony. 

"No, but--guess what I've got here. "

"A new hat, " hazarded Gordon, furrowing his brow in deep thought. 

"Treason!" protested Manuel. "Does the lady live who would put her newhat in a gunny sack?"

"You may have three guesses, each of you, " replied Miss Valdés, dimpling. 

The miner guessed two guinea pigs, a million dollars, and a pair oftango slippers. Pesquiera went straight to the mark. 

"A tin box, " he said. 

"Right, Manuel. Pablo brought it. He had just heard I was looking forthe box--says he found it the night of the fire and took it home withhim. His idea was that we might use the papers to help our fight. "

"Good idea, " agreed the Cripple Creek man, with twinkling eyes. "Whatare you going to do with the papers now you have them, Miss Valdés?"

"Going to give them to their owner, " she replied, and swung the sackinto his lap. 

He took out a bunch of keys from his pocket, fitted one to the lock ofthe box, and threw up the lid. Carefully he looked the papers over. 

"They are all here--every last one. I'm still lord of the Rio ChamaValley--unless my lawyers are fooling me mighty bad. "

"It's a difference of opinion that makes horse races, _Señor_, " retortedManuel gaily from his pillows. 

"I'll bet one of Mrs. Corbett's cookies there's no difference of opinionbetween my lawyers and those of Miss Valdés. What do you honestly thinkyourself about the legal end, ma'am?"

"I think that law and justice were divorced a good many years ago, " sheanswered promptly. 

"Which is another way of saying that you expect me to win out. "

"By advice of counsel we decline to make any admissions, sir. "

"You don't have to say a word. The facts do all the talking that isnecessary. " Gordon glanced in a business-like fashion over severalpapers. "This would be a fine time for friend Pablo to attack me again. Here are several of the original papers--deed of the grant, map of itwith the first survey made, letters showing that old Moreño livedseveral years in the valley after your people were driven out at thetime of the change in government. By the way, here's a ratherinteresting document. Like to look at it, Miss Valdés?"

He handed to her a paper done up in a blue cover after the fashion ofmodern legal pleadings. Valencia glanced it over. Her eye caught at aphrase which interested her and ran rapidly down the page. 

"But--I don't understand what this means--unless----"

She looked up quickly at Gordon, an eager question in her face. 

"It means what it says, though it's all wrapped up in dictionary wordsthe way all law papers are. "

Valencia passed the document to Pesquiera. "Read that, and tell me whatyou think it means, Manuel. " Her face was flushed with excitement, andin her voice there was a suggestion of tremulousness. 

The Spaniard read, and as he read his eyes, too, glowed. 

"It means, my cousin, that you have to do with a very knightly foe. Bythis paper he relinquishes all claim, title and interest in the Moreñogrant to Valencia Valdés, who he states to be in equity the rightfulowner of same. Valencia, I congratulate you. But most of all Icongratulate Mr. Gordon. Few men have the courage to make a gift of ahalf million acres of land merely because they have no moral title toit. "

"Sho! I never did want the land, anyhow. I got interested in the scrap. That's all. " The miner looked as embarrassed as if he had been caughtstealing a box of cigars. 

The young woman had gone from pink to white. The voice in which shespoke was low and unsteady. 

"It's a splendid thing to do--the gift of a king. I don't know--that Ican accept it--even for the sake of my people. I know now you would befair to them. You wouldn't throw them out. You would give new deeds tothose who have bought land, wouldn't you?"

"How are you going to keep from accepting it, Miss Valdés? That paper isa perfectly legal document. "

She smiled faintly. "I could light a cigarette, Mr. Gordon, as you oncedid. "

"Not a bit of use. I wired to Santa Fé by Steve to have that paper--theoriginal of it--put on record this afternoon. By this time I expectyou're the princess of the Rio Chama all right. "

She still hesitated, the tide of feeling running full in her heart. Itwas all very well for this casual youth to make her a present of a halfmillion acres of land in this debonair way, but she could not persuadeherself to accept so munificent a gift. 

"I don't know--I'll have to think--if you are the legal owner----"

"You're welching, " he told her amiably. "I make a legal deed ofconveyance because we are all agreed that my title isn't morally good. We're not a bunch of pettifoggers. All of us are aiming to get at what'sright in settling this thing. You know what is right. So do I. So doesMr. Pesquiera. Enough said. All we have to do then is to act accordingto the best we know. Looks simple to me. "

"Maybe it wouldn't look so simple if you were at the other end of thebargain, Mr. Gordon. To give is more blessed than to receive, you know. "

"Sure. I understand that. I get the glory and do all the grand-standing. But you'll have to stand for it, I reckon. "

"I'm going to think it over. Then I'll let you know what I can do. " Shelooked at him sharply, a new angle of the situation coming home to her. "You meant to do this from the first, Mr. Gordon. "

"Not quite from the first. After you had taken me to your ranch and Ihad seen how things stood between you and the folks in the valley I did. You've smoked me, ma'am. I'm a born grand-stander. " He laughed inamusement at himself. "I wanted to be it, the hero of the piece, thewhite-haired boy. But that wasn't the way it panned out. I was electedvillain most unanimous, and came mighty near being put out of business afew times before I could make the public _sabe_ I was only play acting. Funny how things work out. Right at the last when I've got the spotlightall trained for me to star and the music playing soft and low, DonManuel here jumps in and takes the stage from me by rescuing the villainfrom a fiery furnace. I don't get any show, " he complained whimsically. 

Valencia smiled. "The action of the play has all revolved around you, anyhow. That ought to satisfy you. Without you there wouldn't have beenany entertainment at all. "

"I've had plenty of fun for my money. I'm not making any complaint atall. When a pretender invades a country to put the reigning queen out ofbusiness he has a license to expect a real warm welcome. Well, I gotit. "

Once again Jimmie Corbett appeared in the doorway, this time with ayellow envelope which he handed to Gordon. 

Dick read the enclosed telegram and passed it to Pesquiera. 

The Spaniard waved his hand and made a feeble attempt at a cheer. 

"Am I to hear the good news?" Valencia asked. 

"Read it, Mr. Pesquiera. "

Manuel read:

 "Relinquishment of claim to Moreño grant in favor of Valencia Valdés filed ten minutes ago. Have you taken my advice in regard to consolidation?

 KATE UNDERWOOD. "

"What does she mean about a consolidation?" asked Miss Valdés. 

Dick flushed. "Oh, that was just something we were talking over--somefoolishness or other, I reckon. Nothing to it. The important point isthat the legal fight is over. You're now the owner of both the Valdésand the Moreño claims. "

"_Le roi est mort! Vive la reine!_" cried Manuel gaily. 

"I can't be said to have had a very peaceful reign. Wish you betterluck, ma'am. " He let his eyes rest drolly on the invalid for a moment. "And I hope when you take a prince consort to share the throne he'llmeet all expectations--which I'm sure he will. "

Dick shook hands with the bright-eyed flushing girl. 

She laughed in the midst of her blushes. "_Gracias, señor!_ I'll saveyour good wishes till they are needed. "

"_Adios_, _Don_ Manuel. See you to-morrow if you're up to it. I expectyou've had enough excitement for one day. "

"I'll let you know then whether I can accept your gift, Mr. Gordon, "Valencia told him. 

"That's all settled, " he assured her as he left. 

 * * * * *

It was in the evening that he saw her again. Dick had stopped in thehall on the way to his room to examine a . 303 Savage carbine he foundpropped against the wall. He had picked the weapon up when a voice abovehailed him. He looked up. Valencia was leaning across the balustrade ofthe stairway. 

"I want to talk with you, Mr. Gordon. "

"Same here, " he answered promptly. "I mean I want to talk with you. Let's take a walk. "

"No. You're not up to a walk. We'll drive. My rig is outside. "

Ten minutes later they were flying over the hard roads packed withrubble from decomposed sandstone. Neither of them spoke for some time. He was busy with the reins, and she was content to lean back and watchhim. To her there was something very attractive about the set of hiswell-modeled head upon the broad shoulders. He had just been shaved, andthe scent of the soap wafted to her a pleasant sense of intimacy withhis masculinity. She could see the line above which the tiny white hairsgrew thick on the bronzed cheeks. A strange delight stirred in hermaiden heart, a joy in his physical well-being that longed for closercontact. 

None of this reached the surface when she spoke at last. 

"I can't let things go the way you have arranged them, Mr. Gordon. Itisn't fair. After the way I and my people have treated you I can't bethe object of such unlimited generosity at your hands. "

"Justice, " he suggested by way of substitution. 

"No, generosity, " she insisted. "Why should you be forced to give way tome? What have I done any more than you to earn all this?"

"Now you know we've all agreed----"

"Agreed!" she interrupted sharply. "We've taken it for granted that Ihad some sort of divine right. When I look into it I see that's silly. We're living in America, not in Spain of the seventeenth century. I'veno right except what the law gives me. "

"Well, the law's clear now. I'm tired of being shot at and starved andimprisoned and burned to make a Mexican holiday. I'm fed up with theexcitement your friends have offered me. Honest, I'm glad to quit. Idon't want the grant, anyhow. I'm a miner. We've just made a good strikein the Last Dollar. I'm going back to look after it. "

"You can't make me believe anything of the kind, Mr. Gordon. I knowyou've made a strike, but you had made it before you ever came to thevalley. Mr. Davis told me so. We simply couldn't drive you out. That'sall humbug. You want me to have it--and I'm not going to take it. That'sall there is to it, sir. "

He smiled down upon her. "I never did see anyone so obstinate and sochangeable. As long as I wanted the land you were going to have it; nowI don't want it you won't take it. Isn't that just like a woman?"

"You know why I won't take it. From the very first you've played thebetter part. We've mistreated you in every way we could. Now you want todrown me in a lake of kindness. I just can't accept it. If you want tocompromise on a fair business basis I'll do that. "

"You've got a first-rate chance to be generous, too, Miss Valdés. I'mlike a kid. I want to put this thing over my way so that I'll look big. Be a nice girl and let me have my own way. You know I said my weddingpresent was in that tin box. Don't spoil everything. Show me that you dothink we're friends at last. "

"We're friends--if you're sure you forgive me, " she said shyly. 

"Nothing in the world to forgive, " he retorted cheerfully. "I've had thetime of my life. Now I must go home and get to work. "

"Yes, " she agreed quietly, looking straight in front of her. 

He drove in silence for a mile or two before he resumed theconversation. 

"Of course I'll want to come back for the wedding if you send me aninvitation. I think a good deal of the prince consort, you know. He'sone man from the ground up. "

"Yes?"

"He's the only man I know that's good enough for you. The more I see ofhim the better I like him. He's sure the gamest ever, a straight-up manif ever there was one. "

"I'm glad of that. " She flashed a little sidelong look at him andlaughed tremulously. "It's good of you to pick me a husband you canendorse so heartily. Would you mind telling me his name--if it isn't asecret?"

"You know mighty well, but I reckon all girls play the game of makingbelieve it isn't so for a while. All right. You don't have to admit ittill the right time. But you'll send me a card, won't you?"

Her eyes, shyly daring, derided him. "That's no fair, Mr. Gordon. You goout of your way to pick a prince consort for me--a perfect paragon I'mgiven to understand--and then you expect me to say 'Thank you kindly, sir, ' without even being told his name. "

He smiled. "Oh, well, you can laugh at me all you like. "

"But I'm not laughing at you, " she corrected, her eyes dancing. "I'mtrying to find out who this Admirable Crichton is. Surely I'm within myrights. This isn't Turkey, you know. Perhaps I mayn't like him. Or, moreimportant still, he may not like me. "

"Go right ahead with your fun. Don't mind me. "

"I don't believe you've got a prince consort for me at all. If you hadyou wouldn't dodge around like this. "

At that instant he caught sight by chance of her ungloved left hand. Again he observed that the solitaire was missing. His eyes flashed tohers. A sudden hope was born in his heart. He drew the horse to a halt. 

"Are you telling me that----? What about Don Manuel?" he demanded. 

Now that the crisis was upon her, she would have evaded it if she could. Her long lashes fluttered to the hot cheeks. 

"He is my cousin and my friend--the best friend I have, " she answered ina low voice. 

"No more than that?"

"No more. " She lifted her eyes and tried to meet his boldly. "And now Ireally think you've been impudent enough, don't you?"

He imprisoned her hands in his. "If it isn't Don Manuel who is it?"

She knew her eyes had failed her, that they had told him too much. Anagony of shyness drenched her from head to foot, but there was no escapefrom his masterful insistence. 

"Will you let me go . .. Please?"

"No--not till you tell me that you love me, Valencia, not till you'vemade me the happiest man alive. "

"But . .. "

He plunged forward, an insurgent hope shaking his imperturbability. 

"Is it yes, dear? Don't keep me waiting. Do I win or lose, Valencia?"

Bravely her eyes lifted to his. "I love you with all my heart and soul. I always have from the first. I always shall as long as life lasts, " shemurmured. 

Swept away by the abandon of her adorable confession, he caught her inhis arms and drew her to him. Close as breathing he held her, her heartbeating against his like a fluttering bird. A delicious faintnessovercame her. She lay in his embrace, wonderfully content. 

The dewy eyes lifted again to his. Of their own volition almost theirlips met for the first kiss. 

THE END