be sued for slander."

"Ah! Why does not Miss Yerba sue, then?"

"Because she probably expects that somebody will shoot you."

"As YOU for instance?"

"Perhaps."

"And if you do NOT--eh?--you have not stop my mouth, but your own. And
if you DO, you help her to marry the Baron, your rival. You are not
wise, friend Hathaway."

"May I remind you that you have not yet written to your sister, and you
may prefer to do it carefully and deliberately?"

Don Caesar arose with a vindictive glance at Paul, and pulled a chair
before the table, as the latter placed pen, ink, and paper before him.
"Take your time," he added, folding his arms and walking towards the
window. "Say what you like, and don't let my presence restrain you."

The Mexican began to write furiously, then spasmodically, then slowly
and reluctantly. "I war-r-n you, I shall expose all," he said suddenly.

"As you please."

"And shall say that if I disappear, you are my murderer--you
understand--my MURDERER!"

"Don't consult me on a question of epithets, but go on."

Don Caesar recommenced his writing with a malign smile. There was a
sudden sharp rap at the door.

Don Caesar leaped to his feet, grasped his papers, and rushed to the
door; but Paul was before him. "Who is there?" he demanded.

"Pendleton."

At the sound of the colonel's voice Don Caesar fell back. Paul opened
the door, admitted the tall figure of the colonel, and was about to
turn the key again. But Pendleton lifted his hand in grim deprecation.

"That will do, Mr. Hathaway. I know all. But I wish to speak with
Briones elsewhere, alone."

"Excuse me, Colonel Pendleton," said Paul firmly, "but I have the prior
claim. Words have passed between this gentleman and myself which we
are now on our way to the station and the frontier to settle. If you
are willing to accompany us, I shall give you every opportunity to
converse with him alone, and arrange whatever business you may have
with him, provided it does not interfere with mine."

"My business," said Pendleton, "is of a personal nature, that will not
interfere with any claim of yours that Mr. Briones may choose to admit,
but is of a private quality that must be transacted between us now."
His face was pale, and his voice, although steady and self-controlled,
had that same strange suggestion of sudden age in it which Paul had
before noticed. Whether Don Caesar detected it, or whether he had some
other instinctive appre