liness that could not be discounted by torn clothes and
bruised faces.

"This room looks dirty, now," said Jo, "I'm ashamed to leave it like
this."

"We will go outside to brush off our clothes," proposed Jim, "and I'm
going to empty this dirty water myself." He started out with it when he
met one of the servants in the hall. With many explanations, numerous
gestures and much excitement, she took the pail from Jim and disappeared
with it.

"They won't let you do anything for yourself here, Jo," reported Jim,
returning to the room.

This was correct and the boys noticed afterwards that the servants
regarded them with odd expressions of amusement and it was evident to
the sensitive Jo that they were being "guyed" by them, to use a modern
expression. The boys being American lads, were self-reliant, and were
accustomed to do everything for themselves, and, unknowingly they had
gone counter to a custom of constant service of the Spaniards. It was to
demean oneself, according to their code, to do any menial work.

"Might as well start for the dining room," proposed Jo. "I hate leaving
Tom and Juarez to their fate this way."

"I more than hate it," protested Jim, "but as you can't hurry these
people, we will make the best time by falling in with their way of doing
business."

Then they went out into a passageway and, taking the wrong turn, which
was quite easy in the rambling old house, they came to a door that
entered into the courtyard.

"My, but this is beautiful," exclaimed Jo. "It makes you appreciate
California better when you see a place like this."

"That hammock looks good to me," said Jim. "I would like to stretch out
in it right now."

Just then the door opened on the verandah and a really beautiful young
girl stepped out. She was probably seventeen years of age, dressed in
white, with a black mantilla over her equally black hair and her dark
cheeks glowed with color. A very romantic meeting, Messieurs, the
gallant young Americans at one end of the verandah and the Senorita at
the other. Then she saw Jim and Jo with their scarred and bruised faces.
With a little shriek, and clasping her hand to her eyes, she retreated
quickly to her room.

"What did you do to scare that girl, Jo?" inquired Jim severely of his
brother.

"Nothing," declared Jo, stoutly. "It was the sight of your face. It
would give a wooden Injun a chill." Jim felt of the said face
reflectively.

"I guess you are right, Jo," he admi