aid: "Do you know what you are, Padre _mio_?"

"What, my child?" he asked innocently, his face brightening at the
question.

"You're the dearest old goose that ever lived!" and bending over him,
she kissed him lightly on the crown of his head before he could prevent
it.

"Chiquita, my child--you're too impulsive! Have I not repeatedly forbade
you--" but the sound of her laughter and retreating footsteps on the
pathway leading to the house was the only response his words invoked.
"_Dios!_" he exclaimed, recovering his breath. "I sometimes think that
God created man, but woman--the devil! They never listen to anything one
has to tell them!"

Chiquita went quietly to her room, walked straight to her bureau and
opening the lower drawer, took out a small pistol which lay concealed
beneath a chemise in one corner. Examining it carefully with the
practiced eye and hand of one who has been accustomed to the use of
firearms all her life, she loaded it and then placed it inside her
breast. She knew Don Felipe as no one else did, and thoroughly realized
the danger that threatened her. From that hour, waking or sleeping, the
weapon must never leave her.

XV

Who was Richard Yankton? Many had asked that question, foremost of whom
was Dick himself; but years of unremitting search had failed to reveal
his origin.

In the spring of 1870 Colonel Yankton, who with his regiment of cavalry
was stationed in Arizona, came one day upon the smoldering remains of an
immigrant train--the work of the Apache Indians.

The scalped and mutilated remains of men, women and children lay
scattered over the plain where they had fallen. It was a melancholy
sight; one with which the Colonel had long become familiar during years
of campaigning against the Red man. His scouts had picked up the trail
and just as he was about to start in pursuit of the depredators, he
fancied he heard a cry, causing him to pause and listen.

Presently the cry was repeated, and riding in the direction whence the
sound proceeded, he came upon a little child of about two and a half
years of age sitting on the ground among the sage-brush; the sole
survivor of the disaster. It was a pretty, rosy-cheeked, dark-eyed
baby--a boy. He was frightened at being left alone so long and was
crying bitterly. But when he saw the Colonel looking down at him from
the back of his horse, the little fellow brightened up. He forgot his
troubles, and ceasing to cry, began to laugh