nd bushes of the fence. The horse understood instantly; and as
soon as the fence was a little lowered, leaped over it and stood still
by Alessandro's side, while he replaced the rails, smiling to himself,
spite of his grave anxiety, to think of Juan Can's wonder in the morning
as to how Baba had managed to get out of the corral.

This had taken only a few moments. It was better luck than Alessandro
had hoped for; emboldened by it, he began to wonder if he could not get
the saddle too. The saddles, harnesses, bridles, and all such things
hung on pegs in an open barn, such as is constantly to be seen in
Southern California; as significant a testimony, in matter of climate,
as any Signal Service Report could be,--a floor and a roof; no walls,
only corner posts to hold the roof. Nothing but summerhouses on a large
scale are the South California barns. Alessandro stood musing. The
longer he thought, the greater grew his desire for that saddle.

"Baba, if only you knew what I wanted of you, you'd lie down on the
ground here and wait while I got the saddle. But I dare not risk leaving
you. Come, Baba!" and he struck down the hill again, the horse following
him softly. When he got down below the terrace, he broke into a run,
with his hand in Baba's mane, as if it were a frolic; and in a few
moments they were safe in the willow copse, where Alessandro's poor pony
was tethered. Fastening Baba with the same lariat, Alessandro patted him
on the neck, pressed his face to his nose, and said aloud, "Good Baba,
stay here till the Senorita comes." Baba whinnied.

"Why shouldn't he know the Senorita's name! I believe he does!" thought
Alessandro, as he turned and again ran swiftly back to the corral. He
felt strong now,--felt like a new man. Spite of all the terror, joy
thrilled him. When he reached the corral, all was yet still. The horses
had not moved from their former position. Throwing himself flat on the
ground, Alessandro crept on his breast from the corral to the barn,
several rods' distance. This was the most hazardous part of his
adventure; every other moment he paused, lay motionless for some
seconds, then crept a few paces more. As he neared the corner where
Ramona's saddle always hung, his heart beat. Sometimes, of a warm night,
Luigo slept on the barn floor. If he were there to-night, all was lost.
Groping in the darkness, Alessandro pulled himself up on the post, felt
for the saddle, found it, lifted it, and in a trice wa