which crossed
Marguerite's face, and, weak though she was, she raised herself on one
elbow, her black hair streaming past her face and her eyes shining.
She caught Marguerite's hand, calling softly:

"Senorita! You love Don Emerson! Is it not so? I saw it in your face!
Ah, senorita, it is good to love, is it not? Now you must bring Senor
Mead to me here and I must tell him something that the _padre_ says I
must before I die. But you must not ask me what it is, for I can not
tell you. I can not tell any one but Don Emerson."

"He is in the court room now," Marguerite replied, "and they would not
let him leave. But his friend, Senor Ellhorn, is here, and I will see
if I can find him."

Marguerite met Nick Ellhorn coming out of John Daniel's office with a
broad smile curling his mustaches toward his eyes. He had been on a
still hunt for his Chinese queue, and had run at once upon the
certainty that something had happened which several people would like
to keep quiet. And he had not only recovered the pig tail, but had
found out what had been done and who had done it.

"Oh, Mr. Ellhorn!" exclaimed Marguerite, "I am so glad to find you!
There is a Mexican girl at my house--she dropped down dreadfully ill
at my gate last night and I took her in--who wants to see Mr. Mead.
She says her father is Juan Garcia, and that he lives away beyond
Muletown, in the Fernandez mountains. The _padre_ confessed her this
morning and now she says he told her that she must tell Emerson Mead
something before she dies. I do not know what it is, and she says she
can not tell any one except Mr. Mead. Will you come to the house and
find out what she wants?"

Ellhorn's eyes opened wide, but he kept an impassive face. "Amada
Garcia! What the--whatever is she here for, and how did she get here!"

"I think she must have walked, for her feet were blistered."

"Walked! Walked from old Garcia's ranch! Good God! Well, I sure reckon
she must have something to say. I'll go right along and see her."

When Nick Ellhorn came out of the Delarue house he heard the whistle
of the train from the north.

"I've just time to make it," he thought. "I can't stop to say a word
to anybody about this business, or I'll miss this train. Well, I
reckon I might just as well not say anything about it, anyway, as long
as Tommy isn't here, until I get back--if I ever get back! They'll be
only too glad to snake me in down there, if they get the chance. I'll
just have to