HEART
ofihe
SUNSET
(3j? REX BEACl\
siuthorof ‘ ‘ The Spoilers, “The Iron Trail,™
“ The Silver Horde,** Etc.
*» htrpgi m
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER I—Set afoot and alone by an
accident in the desert near the Rio Grande
3Urs. Alaire Austin, mistress of Las Pal
*»as and I*a Feria ranches, meets Dave
Law, Texas Ranger, at a water ho*e and
is compelled to spend the night there with
him, as he is in ambush for a murderer
and cannot leave his post.
CHAPTER II—Next day at evening the
murderer appears with a companion.
CHAPTER III—Law captures the mur
derer but is compelled to kill his compan
ion Panfllo Sanchez, who happens to be
a cousin of Mrs. Austin's horsebreaker,
Jose Sanc hez.
CHAPTER IV—At Las Palmas Alaire
tells her husband, Ed, that his carousals
and inebriety must stop. Her cattle
at i^a Feria, the Mexican ranch, are con
fiscated by Longorio, Mexican federal
general, and she finds that it is because
Ed has been helping the rebel junta.
CHAPTER VI—Entertained at their
home by Blaze Jones and his daughter
Faloma, Dave hears something about the
Tad Lewis outfit, which is suspected of
cattle stealing. With Ricardo Guzman and
his boys Dave and Blaze go on a scout
after cattle thieves.
CHAPTER VII—Law catches two of the
Lewis outfit brandWig a stolen calf and in
a fight kills one and has his horse shot
under him. He trails the other thief to
Las Palmas, where he is insulted by K<1
Austin, whom he knows to be very friend
ly with the Lewis outfit.
CHAPTER VIII—Law follows up the
trail of Urbina, the escaped thief, to no
purpose except to confirm Austin’s con
nection with the Lewis outfit.
CHAPTER IX—On her homeward jour
ney Alaire again meets Longorio, who
openly makes love to her. She obtains
the release of Juan Garcia from prison.
CHAPTER X—Jose Sanchez swears to
find out the truth about the slaying of
Panfllo. Dave gets further information
about the Lewis outfit. Ricardo Guzman
goes to Mexico to sell horses to the fed
eral.
“You do speak th<*lr lanpifure,"
Alaire said, after she lutd watched
them for a few minutes. “You have
bewitched the creature.” Dave nod*
(]t*d silently, and Ills face was young.
Then, half to herself, the woman mur
mured, “Yes, you have u heart.”
“I beg pardon?”
“Nothing. I’m glad you like her.”
“Do you mind If I call her something
else than Kush, just to myself?”
“Why, she’s yours I Don’t you like
the name?”
"oh, yes! Rut*—see!” Dave laid a
finger upon Montrosa’s forehead. “She
wears a lone star, and I’d like to cull
her that—The Lone Star.”
Alaire smiled In tacit assent; then
when the two friends had completely
established their intimacy, she mount
ed her own horse and led the way 10
the round-up.
Dave's unbounded delight filled the
mistress of Las Palmas with the keen
est pleasure. He laughed, he nuinmed
snatches of songs, he kept up a chat
ter addressed as much to the mare as
to his companion, and under it MmK
rosa romped like a tomboy. It was
gratifying to meet with such apprecia
tion as this; Alaire felt warm and
friendly to the whole world, and de
cided that out of her abundance she
must do more for other people.
Of course Dave had to tell of Don
Ricardo's thoughtful gift, and conclud
ed by saying, “I think this must he
my birthday, although It doesn’t fit In
with the calendar.”
“Don Ricardo has his enemies, but
he is a good-hearted old man.”
“Yes,” Dave agreed. Then, more
gravely, “I’m sorry I let him go across
the river.” There was a pause, ‘If
anybody harms him, I reckon I'll have
a feud on my hands, for I’m a grateful
person.”
“I believe it. I can see that you nre
loyal.”
“I was starved on sentiment when I
was little, hut ft’s in me bigger than a
skinned ox. They say gratitude is nn
elemental, primitive emotion—”
“Perhaps that’s why It Is so rare
nowadays,” said Alaire, not more than
half in jest.
“You find It rare?” Dave looked up
keenly. “Well, you have certainly laid
up a store of It today.”
Benito and his men had rounded up
perhaps three thousand head ot cuttle
when Alalre and her companion ap
peared, and they were In process of
“cutting out.” It was an animated
scene, one fitted to rouse enthusiasm
In any plainsman, for the stock was fat
and healthy; there were many calves,
and the incessant, rumbling complaint
of the herd was blood-stirring. The
I.as I’almas cowboys rode like cen
taurs; the air was drumming to swift
hoofbeats, and over ull was the hoarse,
unceasing undertone from countless
bovine throats. Out near the grub
wagon the remuda was grazing, and
thither at intervals came the perspir
ing horsemen to change their mounts.
Benito, wet. dusty and tired, rode
up to his employer to report progress.
“Dios! Tills is hot work for an old
man. We will never finish by dark,”
said he, whereupon haw promptly vol
unteered his services.
“Lend me your rope, Benito." Dave
slid out of his seat and, with an arm
uround the mare’s neck, whispered into
her ear. Itosa answered by nosing tlu.‘
spetiker over with brazen familiarity.
“Ditihlo! Me has a way with horses,
hasn't he?” Benito grinned, “Now, that
Montrosa Is wilder than a deer.’
The giant herd milled and eddied,
revolving like a vast pool of deep
swift water. The hulls were quarrel
some. the steers were stubborn, ana
the wet cows were distracted, in and
out of this confusion the cowboys rode
following the animals selected for sep
aration, forcing them out through dust
and brush, until they had joined the
smaller herd of choice animats which
were to remain on the ranch, it was
swift, sweaty, exhausting work, the
kind these Mexicans loved, for it wa
not only spectacular hut held an
amount of danger. Dave Law made
himself one of them.
Alaire sat her horse in the heart ot
the crowding herd and watched the
Ranger, flood riding she was accus
tomed to. Bur Law seemed to inspire
ids mount. In spite of the man s un
usual size, he rode like a feather; he
was grace and life and vnutb nersonl
jed. Now he sat as erect in his saddle
as a swaying reed; again he stretched
himself out like a whiplash. < be e lie
had begun the work he would tint
stop.
AH that afternoon the cowboys
labored, and toward sundown the de
pleted herd was driven to the water.
Then through the cool twilight canto
tlie drive to the next pasture, and here
the patience of the cowboys was taxed
to tlie utmost, for as the stronger mem
bers of the herd forged ahead, the
wearied, worried, littlest members fell
behind. But now these swarthy, dare
devil riders were as gentle as women;
they urged the tiny youngsters onward
with harmless switches or with pain
less blows from loose-coiled riatas;
they picked them up in their arms and
rode with them.
Once through the gate and safe in
side tlte restraining pasture fence, the
herd was allowed to settle down. Then
began a patient search by outraged
mothers, a series of mournful quests
that were destined to continue fsir into
the night: endless nosings and sniffings
and earessings, which would keep up
until each cow had found her own.
until each calf was hutting its head
against maternal ribs and gaining that
consolation which it craved.
A new moon was swinging in the
sky as Alnire and Dave rode back
toward Las Palmas. How or when
Alnire Austin came to feel that this
man loved her, she never knew. Cer
tainly she knew tonight, and, strange
to say, the knowledge did not disturb
her. Alnire had been repelled by I.uis
Longoria's evident love for her, but
a similar emotion in this man’s breast
had quite the opposite effect. Site was
eager for friendship, hungry for affec
tion, starved for that worship which
every woman lives upon. Having a
wholesome confidence In her' own
strength of character, and complete
faith in Law’s sense of honor, site was
neither alarmed nor offended.
For tlte first time In years she al
lowed her intimate thoughts free ex
pression and spoke of her hopes, her
interests and her efforts; under the
spell of the moonlight, site even coll
uded something about those dreams
that kept her company and robbed her
world of its sordidness. Dave Law
discovered that she lived in a fanciful
land of unrealities, and the glimpse
he gained of it was delightful.
Supper was waiting when they ar
rived at Las Palmas, and Dolores an
nounced that "Young Ed" had tele
phoned from the Lewis ranch that he
would not l>e home. Yielding to a sud
den impulse, Alnire said to her com
panion:
v ou must < 11n<* wim mi1. iMinn's
will show you to a room. I wilt ho
ready in half an hour.”
The Austin rnticlihnuse offered a
contrast to the majority of Texas
country homes Not for many years
had Duve Law been a guest amid such
surroundings, and lie begun to fool
more and more out of place. With
growing discomfort he realized that
the mistress of this residence wits the
richest woman in till this part of Tex
as, and that he was little better than
a tramp. Aluire knew how tj,> lx* a
gracious and winning hostess; of
course she did not appear to notice
her guest s embarrassment. She had
rather welcomed the thought that this
man eared for her, and ,\Vt, had she
deliberately planned to dampen his
feeling, she could hardly have succeed
ed better than by showing him the
wide disparity in their lives and situa
tions Date was dismayed; he felt
very poor and ridiculous. Alairo was
no longei the woman he had ridden
with through the solitudes; her very
friendliness seemed to lie a condescen
sion
He did not linger long after th y had
dined for he wished to lie alone. > here
lie could reach an understanding with
himself On the steps he wailed just
a moment for Alaire to mention, if
shg chose that, subject wtiiclj. they
had still left open on the night before.
Heading his thought, she said :
"You are expecting me to say some
thing about Panfilo Sanchez.”
“Yes.”
“I have thought it over; in fact, f
have been thinking about it all day;
but even yet I don't know what to
tell you. As for its effect upon my
self—you know I cure very little what
people say or think.”
“I’m sorry I killed the fellow—I
shouldn't have done it, but—one sees
things differently out in the rough apd I
here in the settled country. 1 can’t
help but feel that his conduct, under
the circumstances, called for—what he
cot. Fie wasn’t a good man, in spite
of what Jose says; Anto confessed to
me that they were planning all sorts
of deviltry together.”
“That is hardly an excuse.” Alaire
smiled faintly.
"uh, 1 know!" Dave agreed. “Don’t
weaken on my account.”
“.Vo! I'm not thinking ot the con
sequences to you or *o me. inu are
the kind of man who can protect him
self, I'm sure; your very ability in that
direction frightens me a little on Jose’s
account. But”—she sighed and lifted
her shoulders in a shrug—“perhaps
time will decide this question for us.”
Dave laughed with some relief. “1
t It ink you’ve worried yourself enough
over it, ma’am,” he said; "splitting
hairs as to what’s right and what’s
wrong, when it doesn’t matter much,
in either case. Suppose you continue
to think it over at your leisure.”
“Perhaps I’d better. And now”—
Alaire extended her hand—“won’t you
and Montrosa come to see me once in
a while? I’in very lonesome.”
“We’d love to,” Dave declared. He
had it on his lips to say more, but at
that moment an eager whinny and an
impatient rattle of a bridle bit came
from the driveway, and he smiled.
“There’s her acceptance now.”
“Oh, no! She merely heard your
voice, the fickle creature.”
Alaire watched her guest until he
had disappeared into the shadows,
then she heard him talking to the
mure. Benito’s words at the rodeo oc
curred to her, and she wondered if
this Banger might not ulso have a way
with women.
The house was very still and empty
when she re-entered it.
CHAPTER XII.
The Guzman Incident.
Ricardo Guzman did not return
from Romero. The man had disap
peared, it seemed, completely and mys
teriously. At tirst the facts appeared
plain: a citizen of the United States
had been lured across the border and
done to death by Mexican soldiers—for
it soon became evident that Ricardo
was dead. The outrage was a casus
belli such as no self-respecting people
could ignore; so ran the popular ver
iict. The ominous mailed serpent
which lay along the Rio Grande stirred
itsejf.
Of course, the people of Texas were
delighted that the long-delayed hour
hud struck; accordingly, when the
state department manifested its will
ngnoss to allow Don Ricardo ample
time in which to come to life in pref
erence to putting a further strain upon
international relations, they were both
surprised and enraged. Telegraph
wires begun to buzz; the governor of
the state sent a sarcastic message to
the national capital, offering to dis
patch a company of Rangers after
Guzman’s body, just to prove that he
was indeed dead, and that the Mexi
can authorities were lying when they
professed ignorance of the fact.
This offer not only caught the popu
lar fancy north of the Rio Grande, but
it likewise had an effect on the other
side of the river, for on the very next
day General Luis Longorio sot out for i
Romero to Investigate personally the
rancher’s disappearance.
Now, throughout all this public !
clamor, truth, as usual, lay hidden at j
tDe bottom of its well, and few even j
of Ricardo’s closest friends suspected
the real reason for his murder.
Jonesville, of course, could think or
talk of little else than this outrage,
and Blaze Jones, ns befitted its lead- j
iq^r citizen, was loudest in his criticism
of the government’s policy. Blaze’s
conception of diplomacy was peculiar.
“If 1’otosi didn't talk straight that
consul oughta bent a gun Jutr’l over ,
the old ruffian’s bean and telephoned
for a couple hundred battleships. We
Americans are cussed with notions of
iiruLhedy lu\ju uud universal peace,.
Bah ! We’re bound to have war, "Dave,
some day or other.”
Dave nodded his agreement. ‘‘Yes.
But—everybody has the wrong idea of
this Guzman killing. The federal offi
cers In Rmnero didn’t frame it up.”
“No? Who did?”
“Tad Lewis."
Jones started. "What makes you
think that?”
“Listen! Tad was afraid to let Ur
bina come to trial. Ricardo’s dead and
the other witness is gone. Now draw
your own conclusions.”
Jones was amazed. “Say, Dave,” he
Med. “that means your case has blown
up, eh?”
“Absolutely. Lewis hns been selling
‘wet’ stock to the federals, and he
probably arranged with some of them
to murder Ricardo.”
Blaze cursed eloquently. “I’d like to
hang it onto Tad; I’d sure clean house
down his way if I was positive.”
“I sent a man over to Romero,” Dave
explained further. “He tells me Ricar
do is dead, all right. There’s a new
grave in the little cemetery above the
town, but there hasn’t been a death in
Romero lately.” The speaker watched
his friend closely. “If we had Ricar
do’s body on this side it would put
an end to all the lies, and perhaps
force Colonel Blanco to make known
the real facts. It might even mean a
ease against Tad Lewis.”
“What d’you say we go over there
and get Ricardo?”
Dave smiled. “That’s what I’ve been
leading up to. Will you take a
chance?”
“Yes.”
“I knew you would. All we need is
a pair of Mexicans to—do the work.
I liked Ricardo; I owe him something.”
“Suppose. we’re caught?”
“In that case we’ll have to run for
it, and—I presume I'll be discharged
from the Ranger service.”
“I ain’t very good at runnin’—not
from Mexicans.” Blaze's eyes were
bright and hard at the thought. “It's
more’n possible that, if they discove"
us, we can stall a nice little war
of our own. ’
That evening Dave managed to get
his Ranger captain by long-distance
telephone, and for some time the two
talked guardedly. When Dave rang
off they had come to a thorough un
derstanding.
It liiid boon an easy matter for .Tose
Sanchez to secure a leave of absence
from Benito, but Alaire knew nothing
whatever about the matter until Jose
himself asked permission to see her
on a matter of importance.
The man had ridden bard most of
the previous night, and bis excitement
was patent. Even before tie spoke,
Alaire realized that Pantilo’s fate was
/
''Senora! a Terrible Thing!” Jose
Burst Forth.
known to him, and she derided swiftly
thut there must be no further conceal
ment.
“Senora! A terrible thing!" Jose
ourst forth. “It is strange, unbeliev
ible ! My head whirls—”
Alaire quieted him, saying in Span
sh, “Calm yourself, Jose, and tell me
everything from the beginning.”
“But how can I be calm? Panfilo
s completely dead. But—you know?”
Alaire nodded. “I—suspor»d.”
Jose’s dark eyes blazed; he bent for
ward eagerly. “What did you suspect,
md why? Tell me all.”
It was with a peculiar, apprehensive
lutter in her breast that Alaire real
zed the crisis had come. Heretofore
she had blamed Law, but now, oddly
enough, she found herself interested in
defending him. As calmly as she
could, she related all that hail led
up to the trageikv, while Jose listened
with eyes wide and mouth open.
“You see, I had no suspicion of the
truth,” she Concluded. “It was a ter
rible thing, and Mr. Law regrets it
leeply. He would have made a report
to the authorities, only—he feared it
might embarrass me.”
Jose was torn with rage, yet plainly
.1 prey to indecision; he rolled his eyes
md cursed under his breath. “These
Bangers!” he muttered. "That is the
kind of men they are. They murder
honest people.”
“This was not a murder.” Alaire
cried sharply. “Panfilo was aiding a
felon to escape. The courts will not
punish Mr. Law.”
"Bah! Who cares for the courts?
This man is a gringo, and these are
gringo laws. But I am a Mexican,
and Panfilo was my cousin. We shall
see.”
"Don't be rash, Jose,” she exclaimed,
warningly.
Jose continued to glower. Then,
turning away, he said, without meet
ing his employer’s eyes, “I would like
to draw ni£. numej^”
"Very well. I am sorry to have you
leave Las Palmas, for I have regarded
you as one of my gente.” Jose's face
remained stony. “What do you tutend
to do? Where are you going?”
The fellow shrugged. “Quien snbe!
Perhaps 1 shall go to my General Lon
gorio.”
Alaire smiled faintly. “You will he
shot,” she told him. “Those soldiers
have little to eat and no money at
all."
But Jose's bright eyes remained hos
4ile and his expression baffling. It
was plain to Alaire that her explana
tion of his cousin's death had carried
not the slightest conviction, and she
even began to fear that her part in
the affair had caused him to look upon
her as an accessory. Nevertheless,
when she paid him his wages she gave
him a good horse, which Jose accepted
with thanks but without gratitude. As
Alaire watched him ride away with
never a backward glance, she decided
that she must lose no time in appris
ing the ltangenr of this new condition
of affairs.
She drove her automobile to Jone«
ville that afternoon, more worried than
she cared to admit. Law was nowhere
in town, and so, in spite of her reluc
tance, Alaire was forced to look for
him at the Jones home. As she had
never called upon Paloma, and had
made it almost impossible for the girl
to visit Las Palmas, the meeting of
the two women was somewhat formal.
But no one could long remain stiff or
constrained with Paloma Jones; the
girl had a directness of manner nnd
an honest, friendly smile that simply
would not be denied. Her delight that
Alaire had come to see her pleased and
shamed the elder women, who hesi
tatingly confessed the object of her
visit.
“oh, I thought you were calling on
me.' Paloma pouted her pretty lips.
“Dave isn’t here. He and father—
have gone away.”
It needed no close observation to
discover the concern in Palomn’s eyes;
Alaire told her story quickly. “Mr.
Law must be warned right away,” she
added, “for the man is capable of any
thing.”
i'aloma nodded, "nave told us now
ho had killed Pantilo—” She hesi
tated. and then cried, impulsively:
"Mrs. Austin, I’m going to confess
something—I've got to tell somebody
or I'll hurst. I was walking the floor
when you came. Well, dad and Dave
have completely lost their wits. They
have gone across the river—to get Ri
cardo < tuzman's body.”
“What!” Alaire stared at the girl
mionmprehendingly. “My dear girl,
aren’t you dreaming?”
“1 thought 1 must he when I heard
about it. Dad wouldn’t have told me
at all only he thought I ought to know
In case anything happens to him.” Pa
loma’s breath failed her momentarily.
“They left an hour ago in my machine,
with two Mexicans to help them. They
intend to cross at your pumping plant
as soon as it gets dark, and he back
by midnight—that is, if they ever get
; hark.'*
Puloma’s face was pale, her eyes
were strained and tragic. She made
a hopeless gesture, and Alaire won
dered momentarily whether the girl’s
anxiety was keenest for the safety of
her father or—-the other?
“Can’t we prevent them from go
ing?" she inquired.
“What can we do? They’ll go, any
how, regardless of what we say.”
“Well, we could be there—you and
L”
Palomn agreed eagerly. “Yes ! May
be we could even help them if they got
into trouble.”
"Come, then! We’ll have supper at
l.as Palmas and slip down to the river
and wait.”
Paloma was gone with a rush. In
a moment she returned, ready for the
trip, and with her she carried a rifle
nearly as long us herself.
Tn offering to lend n Tilin'! In this
difficulty, Alaire liud acted largely
upon impulse, and, now that she took
time to think over the affair more
coolly, she asked herself what pos
sible business of hers it could he. For
her part. Paloma was troubled by no
uncertainty of purpose; it did not
seem to her at all absurd to go to
her father’s assistance, and she was
so eager to be up and away that the
prospect of a long evening’s wait made
her restless.
As usual, Ed Austin had not taken
the trouble to inform his wife of his
whereabouts; Alaire was relieved to
ttnil that he was out, and she decided
that lie had probably stayed at Tad
Lewis’ for supper.
The women were seated on the
porch after their meal, when up the
driveway rode two horsemen. A mo
ment later a tall figure mounted the
steps and came forward with out
stretched hand, crying in Spanish:
“Senora! I surprise you. Well, I
told you some day I should give my
self this great pleasure. I am here!”
“General Longorio ! Hut—what a
surprise!” A lit ire's amazement was
naive; her face was that of a startled '
schoolgirl. The Mexican warmly kissed
her fingers, then turned to meet IJalo- ;
ilia Jones. As he bowed, the women
exchanged glances over his head. Miss
Jones looked frankly frightened, and |
her expression plainly asked tin- mean- j
ing of Longorio's presence. To bee- |
self, she was wondering if it could
have anything to do with that expedi
tion to the Romero cemetery. She
tried to compose herself, but appre
hension flooded her.
Alaire, meanwhile, her composure
recovered, was standing slim and mo
tionless beside her ehalff, Inquiring
smoothly, “What brings you into Tex
as at such a time, my dear general?
This ts quite extraordinary.” _
“Need you ask mo?" cried the man.
“I would ride through a thousand per
ils, senora. God In his graciousuess
placed that miserable village, Romero,
dose to the gates of heaven. Why
should I not presume to look through
them briefly? I came two days ago, and
every hour since then I have turned
my eyes In the direction of Last Tal
mas. At last I could wait no longer.”
Pnloma gasped and Alaire stepped
through the French window her
back and Into the brightly lighted
living room. Palonia Jones followed
as if In a trance.
Longorio’s bright eyes took a swift
Inventory of his surroundings; then he
sighed luxuriously.
‘‘How fine!” said he. ‘‘How beauti
ful! A nest for a bird of paradise!”
“Don’t you consider this rather a
mad adventure?” Alaire lnsfsted.
“Suppose It should become known that
you crossed the river?”
Longorio snapped his fingers. “I an
swer to no one; I am supreme. But
your Interest warms my heafrt; it
thrills me to think you cnre for my
safety. Thus am I repaid for my days
of misery."
“You surely did not”—Palonia swal
lowed hard—“come alone?”
“No. I took measures to protect my
self In case of eventualities."
“How?"
“By bringing with me some of my
troopers. Oh, they are peaceable fel
lows!” he declared, quickly; “and they
are doubtless enjoying themselves
with our friend and sympathizer, Mo
rales.” . ,>
“Where?" asked Alaire.
“I left them ut your pumping plant,
senora.'’ Pnloma Jones sat down heav
ily in the nearest chair. “But you need
have no uneasiness.”
Alaire answered sharply, “It was n
very reckless thing to do, and you
must not remain here.”
Longorio drew his evenly arched
brows together in a plaintive frown
saying, “You are inhospitable!" Theu
bis expression lightened. “Or is It,’
he asked—“Is It that you are Indeed
apprehensive for me?”
Alaire tried to speak quietly. “I
should never forgive myself if you
came to harm here at my ranch.”
Longorio sighed. “And 1 hoped for
a warmer welcome—especially since 1
have done you another favor. You
saw that homhre who eatue'wlth me?”
“Yes.”
non, you would never guess II In
your Jose Sanchez. He whs distracted
nt the news of his cousin’s murder,
and came to me—”
“His cousin was not murdered.”
“Exactly! I told him so when I
learned the fads. I said to him, ‘Jose,
myJtoy, it is better to do nothing than
to act wrongly. Go hack to your beau
tiful employer, he loyal to her, and
think no more about this unhappy af
fair.’ It required some argument, I
assure you, but—he is here. He comes
to ask your forgiveness and to resume
his position of trust.”
"I am glad to have him back if he
feels that way. I have nothing what
ever to forgive him.”
“Then lie will be happy, and I hn'-e
served you. That is the end of the
mutter." With a graceful gesture Lon
gorlo dismissed the snbject. “It is to
lie my pleasure,” he next inquired,
"to meet Senor Austin, your bushaud?”
“I am afraid not.”
"Too bad. I had hoped to know
him and convince him that we fede
rales are not such a had people as he
s«ema to think. We ought to be
friends, he and I.”
Under tlds talk Palotna stirred un
easily, and at the first opportunity
burst out: “It’s far from safe for you
to remain here, General Longorio.
This neighborhood is terribly excited
over the death of Ricardo Guzman,
and if anyone learned—”
“So! Then Ciuzman Is dead?” Lon
gorio inquired, with interest.
"Isn’t he?” blurted l’aloma.
“Not so far as l can learn. Only
today I made official report that noth
ing whatever could he discovered about
him. Certainly he Is nowhere in Ro
mero, and it is my personal belief that,
the poor fellow was either drowned
in the river or made way with for his
money. Probably the truth will never
be known."
Longorio had come to spend the
evening, and his keen pleasure in
Alaire Austin’s company made him so
indifferent to his personal safety that
nothing short of a rude dismissal
would have served to terminate his
visit. Neither A hi ire nor her compan
ion, however, had the least Idea how
keenly lie resented the presence of Pa
lomu Jones.
It was a remarkable wooing; on the
one hand this half-savage man, gnawed
hy jealousy, heedless of the illicit na
ture of his passion, yet held within the
bounds of decorum by some fag-end
of respectability; anil on the other
hand, a woman, bored, resentful and
tortured at the moment by fear about
what was happening at the river bank.
It was late when Austin arrived.
Visitors at Las Palmas were ^tnusual
at any time; hfcnce -the sound of
strange voices in the brightly lighted
living room at such an hour surprised
him. He came tramping in. booted
and spurred, a belligerent look of in
quiry upon his bloated features. But
when he had met his wife’s guests, his
surprise turned to bluet displeasure.
His own sympathies ta the Mexican
struggle were so notorious that Longo
rio's presence seemed to him to hare
hut one possible significance. Why
Paloma Jones was here he conld not
Imagine.
(Continued Noxt Week.)
Silver Lace Wyandotte eggs $1
psr setting. Mrs. F. W. Scott.