ut he had felt a strong repugnance to placing his own private
property among that of the church; so, although much the better way,
he had chosen the other. And how could he know there had been a pair of
eyes watching him all the time he was busy in the deserted room? Such
was the case, however, for a young mestizo had been witness of the whole
proceeding. Juan, the seventeen year old son of a Mexican laborer, who
had married one of the mission Indian women, united in himself the
bad qualities of both races, as has so often been the result of such
crosses. He had grown up idle, indifferent to his parents, vicious and
cruel, leading astray the other youths of the mission, among whom he was
easily the master, and causing his parents and Father Zalvidea no end of
anxiety. The Father, in fact, had about made up his mind that Juan must
be sent away to San Diego, and put under military discipline. To have
him longer at liberty was not to be considered. This night Juan had been
at the home of one of his boon companions, talking over the plans for
a fandango to be given within a few days. Coming along leisurely by
the wall of the building forming the east side of the patio, he saw
the faintest glimmer of light shining through the opening of a ruined
window. Standing on a stone, which he placed beneath the window, he
looked in and saw the Father busily at work in the far corner of the
room. Curiosity took possession of him, and he watched every movement
of the worker until he had completed his task, taken up the lantern,
and left the room. After waiting a few moments, to make sure he was not
coming back, Juan sprang lightly through the window, and went to the
corner where the Father had been occupied. First looking out into the
patio to see that no one was there, he seized the shovel, and digging
energetically a minute or two, struck the hard top of the box. Lifting
it out he examined it by the moonlight coming in by the door, which he
had left open. The box was heavy, but there was nothing else to indicate
what were its contents. Juan knew the Father valued it, from the care
with which he had secreted it, and surmised, from its weight, it might
contain gold. Hastily filling the hole, and making the surface smooth as
possible, in the dim light, he climbed out of the window, taking the box
with him. Walking swiftly on the road for a half-mile farther, he came
to a little adobe house where he and his parents lived. Passing the
house,