ame
amusement. He tottered to a chair, threw himself into it with the air of a
thoroughly wearied man who finds rest delicious, put a grain of the powder
on his tongue, and then drew a long sigh, a sigh of entire relief.

We must explain. The inner history of this scene is not a tragedy, but a
farce. For two weeks or more Coronado had been watching his uncle day and
night, and at last had found in his trunk a paper of powder which he
suspected to be arsenic. A blunderer would have destroyed or hidden it,
thereby warning Garcia that he was being looked after, and causing him to
be more careful about his hiding places. Coronado emptied the paper,
snapped off every grain of the powder with his finger, wiped it clean with
his handkerchief, and refilled it with another powder. The selection of
this second powder was another piece of cleverness. He had at hand both
flour and finely pulverized sugar; but he wanted to learn whether Garcia
would really dose the girl, and he wanted a chance to frighten him; so he
chose a substance which would be harmless, and yet would cause illness.

"You will be hung," said Coronado, staring sternly at his uncle.

"I don't know what you mean," mumbled the old man, trembling all over.

"What a fool you were to use a poison so easily detected as arsenic! I
have sent for doctors. They will recognize her symptoms. You prepared the
chocolate. Here is the arsenic in your trunk. You will be hung."

"Give me that paper," whimpered Garcia, rising from his bed and staggering
toward Coronado. "Give it to me. It is mine."

Coronado put the package behind him with one hand and held off his uncle
with the other.

"You must go," he persisted. "She won't live two hours. Be off before you
are arrested. Take horse for San Francisco. If there is a steamer, get
aboard of it. Never mind where it sails to."

"Give me the paper," implored Garcia, going down on his knees. "O Madre de
Dios! My head, my head! Oh, what extremities! Give me the paper. Carlos,
it was all for your sake."

"Are you going?" demanded Coronado.

"Oh yes. Madre de Dios! I am going."

"Come along. By the back way. Do you want to pass _her_ room? Do you want
to see your work? I will send your trunk to the bankers. Quit California
at the first chance. Quit it at once, if you go to China."

As Coronado looked after the flying old man he heard himself called by
Mrs. Stanley, who was by this time in great terror about Clara, trotting
hith