red-faced, and
lacking much of being an Adonis, but whole-souled, and as quick in his
movements as an antelope.

Tobin played an important role in avenging the death of the Americans
killed in the Taos massacre, at the storming of the Indian pueblo, but
his greatest achievement was the ending of the noted bandit Espinosa's
life, who, at the height of his career of blood, was the terror of the
whole mountain region.

At the time of the acquisition of New Mexico by the United States,
Espinosa, who was a Mexican, owning vast herds of cattle and sheep,
resided upon his ancestral hacienda in a sort of barbaric luxury, with a
host of semi-serfs, known as Peons, to do his bidding, as did the other
"Muy Ricos," the "Dons," so called, of his class of natives. These
self-styled aristocrats of the wild country all boasted of their
Castilian blue blood, claiming descent from the nobles of Cortez'
army, but the fact is, however, with rare exceptions, that their male
ancestors, the rank and file of that army, intermarried with the Aztec
women, and they were really only a mixture of Indian and Spanish.

It so happened that Espinosa met an adventurous American, who, with
hundreds of others, had been attached to the "Army of Occupation" in the
Mexican War, or had emigrated from the States to seek their fortunes in
the newly acquired and much over-rated territory.

The Mexican Don and the American became fast friends, the latter making
his home with his newly found acquaintance at the beautiful ranch in the
mountains, where they played the role of a modern Damon and Pythias.

Now with Don Espinosa lived his sister, a dark-eyed, bewitchingly
beautiful girl about seventeen years old, with whom the susceptible
American fell deeply in love, and his affection was reciprocated by the
maiden, with a fervour of which only the women of the race from which
she sprang are capable.

The fascinating American had brought with him from his home in one of
the New England States a large amount of money, for his parents were
rich, and spared no indulgence to their only son. He very soon unwisely
made Espinosa his confidant, and told him of the wealth he possessed.

One night after the American had retired to his chamber, adjoining that
of his host, he was surprised, shortly after he had gone to bed, by
discovering a man standing over him, whose hand had already grasped the
buckskin bag under his pillow which contained a considerable portion of
his