ter anything else since Cass'us
died--but he'll keep within bounds. Now, this way. Lucky the grass is
thick; but even so, don't tread too heavy. Right behind that rear
wall, close against the east, is the place to hear all and not be
seen."

Therefore, as noiselessly and hastily as possible, they placed
themselves within earshot of what was said within the house; and the
story they heard, reduced to simplest facts, was to the effect, as
follows:

Upon receiving his discharge from legal detention at Los Angeles,
Antonio had felt a homesick longing for his old haunts. He had
returned without telling anybody of his intention and had taken up his
abode at Solano's ranch, where his unfortunate brother and the only
person for whom he still cared was frequently to be found. There the
dwarf had joined him, though rambling away again, from time to time,
on errands of his own of which he neither spoke nor was questioned.

"Money, money! That's the one thing, the only thing, no! Get money,
Ferd whenever, however, wherever you can and what you get you keep.
Hear me," had been Antonio's constant instruction during all the years
of the hunchback's life; and to the dwarf's limited understanding, his
adored brother typified incarnate wisdom.

He had anticipated high praise when, one day, he came back to Solano's
and reported his hiding of the little captain in the canyon cave. The
praise was not so ready at first, for Antonio was astute enough to see
whither such a hazardous scheme might lead; but the approbation came
unstained when, later, Ferd again appeared, describing Pedro's
behavior at the time of the rescue and of the curious action of the
ancient staff. Sent back alone to bring fresh specimens of the mineral
Pedro had unearthed, Ferd had suddenly turned stubborn and refused to
go more than halfway. Pedro had died suddenly, and Pedro's ghost would
haunt the spot; no, even Antonio should not compel him thither. He
would do anything, everything else, but go to the canyon cave again he
would not.

Indeed Antonio now felt that it was hardly necessary he should. The
poor lad's superstition had suggested a better way. With Solano's aid,
the deluded "top-lofty" hatched a notable scheme. He would himself
impersonate Old Century's uneasy spirit, which could not rest because
he had betrayed the secret of the ancient padres. Nero could be made
as white as any ghost horse by the application of a little paint; and
shod with rubber cou