t always insured a slight passage at
arms. At present, this diverted their thoughts from what might be in
store at the will of their mutual enemy, and it came with appalling
suddenness. Each small boy was lifted, bidden to shut his eyes and
mouth, then plunged downward into a barrel of some cold slippery
stuff. Here he was soused vigorously up and down, until every portion
of his skin was smeared with the stick mess; after which he was placed
on his feet and once more commanded:

"Now, son, just you stand there and dreen a spell. Lucky I made that
barrel of soft soap last week. It's just the stuff to take this paint
off, and what drips from you to the old adobe floor won't hurt.
Pasqual's a master hand at scrubbin', and I'll give him the job of you
and the floor both. Reckon you'll wish you hadn't ever seen paint pots
time he gets through. Now--where's your clothes?"

Ned was silent, but Luis "guessed they's under a tree."

"Well, son, Garcia, knowing it better than guessing 'bout now. Me and
Santa Claus is sort of partners, and he's due here soon. 'Twon't take
me a jerk of a lamb's tail to write and tell him how things stand at
Sobrante, and whose stockings'd better have switches 'stead of goodies
in 'em. Hear me? Where's your clothes?"

A laugh caused Aunt Sally to glance through the window, where Jessica
was an amused spectator of the scene within. She now begged:

"Don't be hard on the little tackers, auntie, dear. That was Prince,
Mr. Hale's horse, that Pedro has tended on the mesa all these days.
I'll find out how they came by it, and their clothes at the same time.
Tell mother, please," and with a merry nod to the unhappy urchins, so
shamfacedly "dreening" at Mrs. Benton's pleasure, she disappeared.

Disappeared not only from the window, but, apparently, from life, as
suddenly and completely as if the earth had opened and engulfed her.

CHAPTER II.

THE HUSH OF ANXIETY

Mrs. Trent and Aunt Sally sat down alone to dinner. The little lads
were in their beds, recovering from the sound scrubbing Pasqual had
given them. Clothed in fresh nightgowns, and refreshed by generous
bowls of bread and milk, they had been left in a darkened room to
reflect upon the hard ways of transgressors. But reflection was
unusual work for their active brains, and they had promptly fallen
asleep; hence the profound peace which rested upon the house.

"I wonder where Jessica is? She was to have written my letters for me,