raw near, then
scuttled for shelter, piping an alarm. A man appeared from somewhere,
at sight of whom the priest rode forward with a pleasant greeting. But
the fellow was unfriendly. His wife, too, emerged from the dwelling and
joined her husband in warning Father O'Malley away.

"Let me try," Alaire begged, and spurred her horse up to the group. She
smiled down at the country people, saying: "We have traveled a long
way, and we're tired and hungry. Won't you give us something to eat?
We'll pay you well for your trouble."

The man demurred sullenly, and began a refusal; but his wife, after a
wondering scrutiny, interrupted him with a cry. Rushing forward, she
took the edge of Alaire's skirt in her hands and kissed it.

"God be praised! A miracle!" she exclaimed. "Juan, don't you see? It is
the beautiful senora for whom we pray every night of our lives. On your
knees, shameless one! It is she who delivered you from the prison."

Juan stared unbelievingly, then his face changed; his teeth flashed in
a smile, and, sweeping his hat from his head, he, too, approached
Alaire.

"It is! senora, I am Juan Garcia, whom you saved, and this is Inez," he
declared. "Heaven bless you and forgive me."

"Now I know you," Alaire laughed, and slipped down from her saddle.
"This is a happy meeting. So! You live here, and that was little Juan
who ran away as if we were going to eat him. Well, we are hungry, but
not hungry enough to devour Juanito."

Turning to her companions, she explained the circumstances of her first
meeting with these good people, and as she talked the Garcias broke in
joyfully, adding their own account of her goodness.

"We've fallen among friends," Alaire told Dave and Father O'Malley.
"They will let us rest here, I am sure."

Husband and wife agreed in one voice. In fact, they were overjoyed at
an opportunity of serving her; and little Juan, his suspicions
partially allayed, issued from hiding and waddled forward to take part
in the welcome.

Shamefacedly the elder Garcia explained his inhospitable reception of
the travelers. "We hear the gringos are coming to kill us and take our
farms. Everybody is badly frightened. We are driving our herds away and
hiding what we can. Yesterday at the big Obispo ranch our people shot
two Americans and burned some of their houses. They intend to kill all
the Americans they find, so you'd better be careful. Just now a fellow
rode up shouting that you were coming, but of