and the sky was thick and grey this
morning.

The Casa Ortega stood on the shores of a large lake. The banks were
thickly wooded. On its southern curve was a high mountain. As the boys
approached, a vaquero sprang upon a mustang and rode toward them
rapidly. Roldan recognised one of the men that had been at the rodeo.

"At your feet, senores," said the vaquero. "The Senor Don is away, and
all the family; but I am mayor domo, and in his absence I place the
house at your disposal."

"My father will reward you," said Roldan, graciously. "We would ask
that you give us dinner, a thick poncho each, for I fear that it will
rain before we reach Los Angeles, and that you will direct us which way
to go. The ponchos shall be replaced with fine new ones as soon as we
have returned home."

"Don Carlos would not hear of the return of the ponchos, senor. But
surely the senores will remain a few days, until the storm is over?"

"We dare not. But we will rest; and we have good appetites."

The mayor domo, still protesting, held the horses while the boys
dismounted, then showed them to two bedrooms and bade them rest while
dinner was preparing. "It will be an hour," he said. "I beg that the
senores will sleep."

The boys did sleep, and it was two hours before they were called. Then
they ate a steaming dinner, and forgot their fear of the priest: the
meagre diet of squirrel and rabbit of the past thirty-six hours had
lowered their spirits' temperature.

When they left the room the mayor domo awaited them with two thick
woollen ponchos--large squares of cloth with a slit in the middle for
the head.

"These will keep the rain out," he said, as he slipped them over the
boys' heads. "And there is food for two days in the saddle-bags, and
pistols in the holsters. Keep to the right of the lake, and enter the
mountains by the horse trail. It winds over the lower ridges. The
senores cannot lose themselves, for they should be on the other side
before dark--that mountain is the meeting of the two ranges and beyond
there are no more for many leagues. Then the senores must keep straight
on, straight on--never turning to the left, for that way lies the
terrible Mojave desert. By-and-by they will cross a river, and after
that Los Angeles is not far. Between the mountain and the river is an
hacienda, where they will find welcome for the night."

Roldan thanked him profusely, then said: "I have reasons for not
wishing ANY ONE to know that I