io's mood might be, and it did not lessen her dread to see
that his sombrero was well over his eyes and his shoulders hunched
forward.

"Something's put him out, but I can't help that. I must stop him and
speak to him."

So she placed herself in the middle of the road and shouted her familiar:

"_Hola!_ Coo-ee! Coo-ee!"

Any other ranchman would have paused and saluted his "lady," but the
"senor" made as if he would ride her down, unseeing.

Jessica did not flinch. That ready temper which she was always lamenting
flamed at the insult, and she would not move a hair's breadth from his
path.

"Hola! Antonio Bernal! I must speak to you, and--see that?"

Suddenly bending forward she waved something long and black under Nero's
nose, who reared and settled on his haunches in a way to test a less
experienced rider.

"What do you mean, child----" began that irate gentleman, but pausing
at sight of the object she held.

"I think this a plume from Beppo's wing, don't you, Antonio?"

He muttered something under his breath, and she went on, explaining:

"I found it in the canyon, just after Ferd has gone up it. I knew it in
a minute, for I was looking Beppo over yesterday, and I never saw such
perfect feathers on any bird. How do you suppose it came there, and why?"

"The fool! One of the very best. How dared he. But suppose I'll have to
admit he stole it. I don't see how, though, for I did the work myself.
Give it to me, senorita; I'll put it with the others."

Somehow, when Antonio was sauve "our Lady Jess" liked him less than
when he was sharp of speech. His native "senorita" jarred on her ear,
though she blamed herself for her injustice, nor did she yield him the
feather.

"Not yet, please. I'm going to show it to mother. She'll be so
delighted to know the plucking was a rich one; and if Ferd did steal
this, or has others in his basket, of course you'll make him bring
them back."

"Of course," answered Antonio, though he frowned and searched her face
with his black eyes as if to read all her suspicions.

But as Jessica was not suspicious; she was vaguely troubled, as if she
had come into some dark and unknown world. Surely Antonio was able to
clear off all these little mysteries, and she checked him again as he
was about to ride on.

"There's something else, senor," adopting his title in imitation of
his addressing her; "John Benton is up the gulch fixing a break in the
flume. It's a bad one, and more a cut