rgue politics with you," Alaire interrupted, positively. "I
believe most Americans agree that you have cause for complaint, but
what has that to do with my ranch and my cattle? This is something that
concerns no one except you and me."

Longorio was plainly flattered by her words, and took no trouble to
hide his pleasure. "Ah! If that were only true! We would arrange
everything to your satisfaction without another word." His admiring
gaze seemed to envelop her, and its warmth was unmistakable. "No one
could have the cruelty to deny your slightest wish--I least of all."

"Why did you take my cattle?" she demanded, stubbornly.

"I was coming to that. It is what I meant when I said there was a
complication. Your husband, senora, is an active Candelerista."

For a moment Alaire was at a loss; then she replied with some spirit:
"We are two people, he and I. La Feria belongs to me."

"Nevertheless, his conduct is regrettable," Longorio went on. "Probably
evil men have lied to him--San Antonio is full of rebels conspiring to
give our country into the hands of outlaws. What a terrible spectacle
it is! Enough to bring tears to the eyes of any patriot!" He turned his
melancholy gaze from Alaire to her companion, and for the first time
Dolores stirred.

She had watched her countryman with a peculiar fascination, and she had
listened breathlessly to his words. Now she inhaled deeply, as if freed
from a spell; then she said:

"Pah! Nobody pays heed to Senor Ed. We do not consider him."

Dolores lacked diplomacy; her bluntness was often trying. Alaire turned
upon her with a sharp exclamation, conscious meanwhile that the woman's
tone, even more than her words, had enlightened Longorio to some
extent. His lifted brows were eloquent of surprise and curiosity, but
he held his tongue.

"Am I to understand, then, that you rob me because of my husband's
action?" Alaire asked.

"No. But we must combat our enemies with the weapons we have--not only
those who bear arms with Candeleria, but those who shelter themselves
beyond the Rio Grande."

Alaire's face fell. "I had hoped that you would understand and help me,
but I shall go to Mexico City and demand my rights, if necessary."

"Wait! I SHALL help." Longorio beamed enthusiastically. "It shall be
the object of my life to serve you, and you and I shall arrange this
matter satisfactorily. I have influence, believe me. A word from Luis
Longorio will go further with my chief than a