ed?"

"Deed, senora? This day, just ended, is it not that I have been over
all the records and there is none of any deed to Sobrante later than my
own--or that proves my claim. In truth, the honorable Dona Gabriella is
right, indeed. I was the trusted friend of the dead senor, and if any
such precious document existed, would I not have known it? _Si._ What
I do know is the worry, the trouble, the impossibility of such a paper
broke the senor's heart. It does not exist. Sobrante is mine. He knew
that this was so--I had often spoken----"

The untruth he was about to utter did not pass his lips. There was
that in the white face of Gabriella Trent which arrested his words,
as, clasping her boy in her arms, she glided into the darkened hall
and entered her own rooms beyond.

The "boys" had not moved, nor Jessica followed, and she now firmly
confronted the manager, saying:

"I am sorry to tell you, Antonio Bernal, that you are not acting square.
My father did have that title deed, and I believe you know it. Somebody
has taken it from the place where his own hands put it, but I will find
it. This home is ours, is all my mother's. Nobody shall ever take it
from her. Nobody. You hear me say that, Senor Antonio Bernal, and you,
dear 'boys?'"

"Ay, ay," echoed her friends, heartily; but the superintendent regarded
her as he might have done some amusing little insect.

"Very pretty, senorita. The filial devotion, almost beautiful. But
the facts--well, am I not merciful and generous, I? There is no haste.
Indeed, no. A month----"

"Before a month is out I will have found that deed and placed it in
my darling mother's hands. I may be too young to understand the
'business' you talk about so much, but I am not too young to save my
mother's happiness. I can see that paper now, in my mind, and I
remember exactly how it looked inside and out. It seemed such a little
thing to be worth a whole, great ranch. I don't know how nor where,
but somehow and somewhere, I shall find that paper. 'Boys,' will you
help me?"

"To the last drop of our hearts' blood!" cried John Benton, and the
others echoed, "Ay, ay!"

Antonio thought it time to end this scene and walked toward the porch, at
the further end of which was another long window opening into his own
apartments. But he was not permitted to leave so easily. Great Samson
placed himself in the manager's path and remarked:

"There's no call to lose sight of the main business 'count o'