itated by the others'
laughter.

"Ah!" he continued, wagging his head, and in a tone of bravado and
offended dignity, "you think I can't get home alone, do you? I'll show
you that Miguel Torreno is still as young as the rest of you!" And
supporting himself with one hand on the table and the other on his
stick, he rose from his seat with great difficulty.

"Miguel Torreno old, is he? A thousand devils!" A chorus of laughter
greeted this last outburst as he turned unsteadily and swaying to and
fro, slowly made his way through the crowd toward the door.

Just then a man at the next table rose with an oath. It was Juan Ramon,
Major-domo of the Inn of the Stars. Juan Ramon, the handsome, the hawk,
the gambler--the greatest _vaquero_ in Chihuahua. The man who took
delight in riding horses that other men feared--the man in whose hand
the _riata_ became a magic wand, a hissing serpent, and who could
stretch a bull at full length upon the ground at a given spot within a
given time.

"Has the blessed _Fiesta_ brought you no luck, Juan?" inquired Carlos,
tilting himself back in his chair and smiling up in the other's face.

"Luck--blessed _Fiesta_? The devil take them both!" exclaimed Juan, the
look of disgust on his face gradually changing to one of
resignation--that serene expression of the born gambler whom experience
has taught that days of famine are certain to follow those of plenty.

"Look!" he repeated. "The cards are bewitched--not a _centavo_! My
pockets are empty as Lazarus' stomach! Only a month ago I picked out a
beautiful little _hacienda_ with the fairest acreage to which I intended
to retire and live like a _Caballero_--to-day I parted with my only
horse at a loss--to-morrow," and he shrugged his shoulders
indifferently, "if this sort of thing continues, I'll be forced to pawn
the buttons on my breeches.

"_Mercedes Dios_, blessed be the _Fiesta_!" And flinging the end of his
_zerape_ over one shoulder and across the lower half of his face, he
stalked toward the door; the laughter of his friends ringing in his
ears.

IV

Ten years previous to the events just related, Padre Antonio, his
parochial duties over for the day, was slowly retracing his steps
homeward.

It was a mild, serene summer evening, and he paused before the massive
iron gates set in the high adobe wall surrounding his garden for a last
look at the sunset before entering his house.

It had been a strenuous day for Padre Antonio