that end. The fight would never be forgotten, as it was his
first, and no sight of wounds would ever affect him as did those of Red
Connors as he lay huddled up in the dark corner of that old adobe hut.

He came to himself and laughed again as he thought of Carmencita, the
first girl he had ever known--and the last. With a boy's impetuosity he
had wooed her in a manner far different from that of the peons who sang
beneath her window and talked to her mother. He had boldly scaled the
wall and did his courting in her house, trusting to luck and to his
own ability to avoid being seen. No hidden meaning lay in his words;
he spoke from his heart and with no concealment. And he remembered the
treachery that had forced him, fighting, to the camp of his outfit; and
when he had returned with his friends she had disappeared.

To this day he hated that mud-walled convent and those sisters who
so easily forgot how to talk. The fragrance of the old days wrapped
themselves around him, and although he had ceased to pine for his
black-eyed Carmencita-well, it would be nice if he chanced to see her
again. Spurring his mount into an easy canter he swept down to and
across the river, fording it where he had crossed it when pursuing
Tamale Jose.

The town lay indolent under the Mexican night, and the strumming of
guitars and the tinkle of spurs and tiny bells softly echoed from
several houses. The convent of St. Maria lay indistinct in its heavy
shadows and the little church farther up the dusty street showed dim
lights in its stained windows. Off to the north became audible the
rhythmic beat of a horse and soon a cowboy swept past the convent with a
mocking bow.

He clattered across the stone-paved plaza and threw his mount back
on its haunches as he stopped before a house. Glancing around and
determining to find out a few facts as soon as possible, he rode up
to the low door and pounded upon it with the butt of his Colt. After
waiting for possibly half a minute and receiving no response he hammered
a tune upon it with two Colts and had the satisfaction of seeing half a
score of heads protrude from the windows in the nearby houses.

"If I could scare up another gun I might get th' whole blamed town up,"
he grumbled whimsically, and fell on the door with another tune.

"Who is it?" came from within. The voice was distinctly feminine and
Hopalong winked to himself in congratulation.

"Me," he replied, twirling his fingers from his n