ime we were
going home."

"This is home, for me, Dolores."

"Yes, but now that war--"

"There isn't any war, and there won't be any. However, if you are
nervous I'll send you back to Las Palmas at once."

"Glory of God! It would be the end of me. These Mexicans would
recognize me instantly as an American, for I have the appearance and
the culture. You can imagine what would happen to me. They would tear
me from the train. It was nothing except General Longorio's soldiers
that brought us safely through from Nuevo Pueblo."

"Then I'm glad that he insisted upon sending them with us. Now tell the
ranch-hands to put no faith in these ridiculous stories. If they wish
the truth let them ask General Longorio; he will be here today and
quiet their fears."

"You think he intends to pay us for our cattle?"

"Yes."

Dolores pondered a moment. "Well, perhaps he does--it is not his money.
For that matter, he would give all Mexico if you asked it. Tse! His
love consumes him like a fever."

Alaire stirred uneasily; then she rose and went to an open window,
which looked out into the tiny patio with its trickling fountain and
its rank, untended plants. "Why do you insist that he loves me?" she
asked. "All Mexicans are gallant and pay absurd compliments. It's just
a way they have. He has never spoken a word that could give offense."
As Dolores said nothing, she went on, hesitatingly, "I can't very well
refuse to see him, for I don't possess even a receipt to show that he
took those cattle."

"Oh, you must not offend him," Dolores agreed, hastily, "or we'd never
leave Mexico alive." With which cheering announcement the housekeeper
heaved a deep sigh and went about her duties with a gloomy face.

Longorio arrived that afternoon, and Alaire received him in the great
naked living room of the hacienda, with her best attempt at formality.
But her coolness served not in the least to chill his fervor.

"Senora," he cried, eagerly, "I have a thousand things to tell you,
things of the greatest importance. They have been upon my tongue for
hours, but now that I behold you I grow drunk with delight and my lips
frame nothing but words of admiration for your beauty. So! I feast my
eyes." He retained his warm clasp of her fingers, seeming to envelop
her uncomfortably with his ardor.

"What is it you have to tell me?" she asked him, withdrawing her hand.

"Well, I hardly know where to begin--events have moved so swiftly, and
such incre