o San Juan
Capistrano.

Juan was frequently away for two or three days at a time, and his
non-appearance the next morning caused no particular remark from his
parents; and not until late in the afternoon of the second day of his
absence did anything occur to lead them to think he was gone. His father
had begun to cut his wheat the day before. This afternoon he was just
finishing the last piece of the field, when he spied something white
on the ground, almost hidden by the tall grain. Stopping his horse, he
picked it up, wondering, and with some difficulty made out the
writing on it. Where had it come from; to whom did it belong; who was
Dolores--it was too much for his slow mind to fathom. But of one thing
he was certain--it must be taken to the Father; he would know if it was
of moment. And then it was he thought of his son and his absence. Hardly
in his own mind did he connect it with the bit of paper; and yet the
suspicion, once aroused, would not be dispelled. Finishing his work as
quickly as possible, he returned to his house and told his wife what
he had found, and then spoke of the absence of their son as, possibly,
having some connection with it.

"I will take it to the Father to-morrow," said his wife, calmly, as
became her race, but with an undertone of anxiety and sadness.

Early the next morning Juan's mother wended her way to the mission, and
asking to see the Father, was led to his reception-room. He was sitting
at a table covered with books and papers, reading from a large folio
filled with the early statistics of the mission, the first few pages of
which were written by the sainted Serra's hand. Father Zalvidea looked
up as the Indian woman entered.

"Good morning, my daughter," he said. "What do you wish with me?"

The woman responded with a trembling voice, "Father, my husband found
this in his wheatfield."

The Father took the paper with negligent curiosity. It was rumpled and
dirty, far different from its appearance when in the box, and he did
not recognize it. But as soon as he had smoothed it, and saw the
handwriting, he sprang to his feet, crying:

"Woman, how came you by this? Tell me. Why did you bring it to me? Where
is the box?"

Terrified at the outbreak she had evoked, the Indian fell on her knees
before the priest, and exclaimed:

"Father, I know nothing more about it than what I have told you. My
husband found it yesterday in his field, and gave it to me to bring to
you. That i