was late, many windows
were light and sounds of revelry came dimly, as though muffled, from
curtain-hid interiors. There was something furtive and ill-omened about
this neighborhood which one sensed rather than perceived. Spear rode
close and touched Adrian's arm.

"Sydney town," he whispered, meaningly. "The hang-out of our convict
citizens from Australia, those eastern toughs and plug-uglies of the
Seventh regiment who came here to feather their nests. Do you know what
they've done? Formed a society called The Hounds. Appropriate, isn't it?
Your friend McTurpin's one of them. Thanks to you, they've lost a
valued member."

"Hounds?" said Adrian. His thought still forged ahead. "Oh, yes, I've
heard about them. They are going to drive out the foreigners."

"Loot them, more likely," Spear returned, disgustedly; "then us, if we
don't look out. Mark my word, they'll give us trouble. Alcalde
Leavenworth's too careless by half."

Stanley, paying scant attention, suddenly leaned forward in his saddle.
At one of the windows a curtain was drawn back; a woman's face appeared
for a moment silhouetted against inner light; then as swiftly withdrew.

"Who was that?" asked Adrian, involuntarily reining in his mount.
"Not--"

"Rosa Terranza," said Spear excitedly.

They listened. From within the tent-house came a sound of hasty
movements, whispering. The light winked out. A bolt was shot;
then silence.

"I'll bet, by Jupiter, McTurpin's there," cried Adrian.

"And that he's hurt," Spear added. "What shall we do?"

"Let them be," decided Stanley, clucking to his horse. "My duty's
ahead." He took the steep pitch of the hillside almost at a gallop and
soon they were descending again into that little settlement of waterside
and slope called North Beach. Juana Briones' place had been its pioneer
habitation. Her hospitable gate stood always invitingly open. Through
the branches of a cypress lights could be seen. The front door stood
ajar and about it were whispering women. Adrian's heart leaped. Was
something amiss? He dismounted impetuously, throwing the reins to an
Indian who had come out evidently to do them service. Spear followed as
he rushed through the door. There stood Dona Briones, finger on lip,
demanding silence. Her face was grave.

"How--how is she? How is Inez?" Adrian stammered.

"The doctor's with her. Everything will be all right, I think. But make
no noise. Go in that room and sit down."

Adrian threw up hi