she had been
happy, and trusting, while he forgot his debt of gratitude, and ignoring
her existence, travelled about the country with another woman. Only this
morning Carmen had dreamed of meeting him here, and that he had asked for
her invitation, as a favour to himself. She could have screamed, and torn
her flesh, in agony. She suffered too much. Some one else would have to
pay for this! Nick would have to pay, and that woman, that love pirate
sailing from strange seas to steal the treasure of others.

Her one uncontrollable impulse was to go and find them both, to do
something to part them, she did not know what yet, but inspiration would
come. She felt unable to bear any delay. Somehow, she must find an excuse
to get away from this place. She would have to go San Francisco, or
perhaps even to the Yosemite Valley, and find Nick and the woman together.

It occurred to her that she might contrive to telegraph to Simeon Harp,
telling him to wire her that something had gone wrong on the ranch, that
she must return home at once. Mariette could find out how to send
telegrams from here--there was sure to be a way--and get the message off
in secret.

* * * * *

That night a telegram came for Mrs. Gaylor, announcing that there had been
a fire on the ranch. She was needed at home. She showed the bit of paper
to Mrs. Harland and Falconer, and there was much sympathy and regret that
her visit must be broken short.

Next morning she left, having been but twenty-four hours at Rushing River
Camp. And late that night, she arrived in San Francisco. But she was in no
hurry to obey the summons from the Gaylor ranch.

XXII

THE BOX OF MYSTERY

Again Angela was expecting Hilliard. They were to dine, and then she and
Nick and Kate and the cat were going by train to El Porto, the gate of the
Yosemite Valley. Angela was waiting in her sitting-room, as on that first
evening there, when she had changed one decision for another all in a
moment; but now she was in travelling dress, and a week had passed since
that other night. It had been, perhaps, the happiest week of her life; but
the week to which she was looking forward would be happier still.
Afterward, of course, there would be an end. For the end must come. She
was clear-sighted enough to realize that.

As she thought these things--and quickly put away the thoughts, since
nothing must spoil this hour--there was a rap at the door, and she