ebastian. When she had been a little
tot he had taught her how to ride and how to fish. Since her return from
college she had renewed acquaintance with him. Had she not been good to
his children when they had small-pox? Had she not sold him his place
cheaper than any other man could have bought it? Why, then, should he
assume she was his enemy? Why should he distrust her? Why, above all,
had he done this foolish and criminal thing?

Her anger blazed as she recalled all this and more. She would show
Sebastian that because she had been indulgent he could not trade
defiantly upon her kindness.

"No," she told Manuel. "No. I shall deal with him myself. He will speak
or I shall turn him over to the sheriff."

"Let us at least go to the hotel, Valencia. We do not want to gather a
crowd on the street."

"As you please."

They reached the hotel parlor and Valencia gave Sebastian one more
chance.

The man shuffled uneasily on his feet, but did not answer.

"Very well," continued Miss Valdes stiffly, "it is not my fault that you
will have to go to the penitentiary and leave your children without
support."

Manuel tried to stop her, but Valencia brushed past and left the room.
She went straight to a telephone and was connected with the office of
the sheriff. After asking that an officer be sent at once to arrest a
man whom she was holding as prisoner, she hung up the receiver and
returned to the parlor.

In all she could not have been absent more than five minutes, but when
she reached the parlor it was empty. Both Manuel and his prisoner had
gone.

CHAPTER XVII

AN OBSTINATE MAN

When Richard Gordon came back from unconsciousness to a world of
haziness and headaches he was quite at a loss to account for his
situation. He knew vaguely that he was lying flat on his back and that
he was being jolted uncomfortably to and fro. His dazed brain registered
sensations of pain both dull and sharp from a score of bruised nerve
centers. For some reason he could neither move his hands nor lift his
head. His body had been so badly jarred by the hail of blows through
which he had plowed that at first his mind was too blank to give him
explanations.

Gradually he recalled that he had been in a fight. He remembered a sea
of faces, the thud of fists, the flash of knives. This must be the
reason why every bone ached, why the flesh on his face was caked and
warm moisture dripped from cuts in his scalp. It dawned upon him t