l sun and wind, contained a few
withered leaves, dryly rotting skins, and thongs of leather, as if
undisturbed by human care. But among these scattered debris of former
life and habitation there was no noisome or unclean suggestion of decay.
A faint, spiced odor of desiccation filled the bare walls. There was
no slime on stone or sun-dried brick. In place of fungus or discolored
moisture the dust of efflorescence whitened in the obscured corners. The
elements had picked clean the bones of the crumbling tenement ere they
should finally absorb it.

A withered old peon woman, who in dress, complexion, and fibrous hair
might have been an animated fragment of the debris, rustled out of a low
vaulted passage and welcomed them with a feeble crepitation. Following
her into the dim interior Mrs. Tucker was surprised to find some slight
attempt at comfort and even adornment in the two or three habitable
apartments. They were scrupulously clean and dry, two qualities which in
her feminine eyes atoned for poverty of material.

"I could not send anything from San Bruno, the nearest village, without
attracting attention," explained Poindexter; "but if you can manage to
picnic here for a day longer, I'll get one of our Chinese friends here,"
he pointed to the slough, "to bring over, for his return cargo from
across the bay, any necessaries you may want. There is no danger of his
betraying you," he added, with an ironical smile; "Chinamen and Indians
are, by an ingenious provision of the statute of California, incapable
of giving evidence against a white person. You can trust your handmaiden
perfectly--even if she can't trust YOU. That is your sacred privilege
under the constitution. And now, as I expect to catch the up boat ten
miles from hence, I must say 'good-by' until to-morrow night. I hope
to bring you then some more definite plans for the future. The worst is
over." He held her hand for a moment, and with a graver voice continued,
"You have done it very well--do you know--very well!"

In the slight embarrassment produced by his sudden change of manner she
felt that her thanks seemed awkward and restrained. "Don't thank me," he
laughed, with a prompt return of his former levity, "that's my trade. I
only advised. You have saved yourself like a plucky woman--shall I say
like Blue Grass? Good-by!" He mounted his horse, but, as if struck by an
after-thought, wheeled and drew up by her side again. "If I were you I
wouldn't see many