may happen at a moment's notice," she declared. "Something
tells me that I am to meet a shocking fate. I can hear those ruffianly
soldiers quarreling over me--it is what comes from good looks." Dolores
mechanically smoothed the wrinkles from her dress and adjusted her
hair. "Mark you! I shall kill myself first. I have made up my mind to
that. But it is a great pity we were not born ugly."

Alaire could not forbear a smile, for she who thus resigned herself to
the penalties of beauty had never been well favored, and age had
destroyed what meager attractions she may have once possessed.

Dolores went on after a time. "My Benito will not long remain
unmarried. He is like all men. More than once I have suspected him of
making eyes at young women, and any girl in the country would marry him
just for my fine silver coffee-pot and those spoons. There is my
splendid silk mantilla, with fringe half as long as your arm, too. Oh,
I have treasures enough!" She shook her head mournfully. "It is a
mistake for a wife to lay up pretty things, since they are merely
temptations to other women."

Alaire tried to reason her out of this mood. "Why should any one molest
us? Who could wish us harm?" she asked.

"Ha! Did you see that general? He was like a drunken man in your
presence; it was as if he had laid eyes upon the shining Madonna. I
could hear his heart beating."

"Nonsense! In the first place, I am an old married woman."

Dolores sniffed. "Vaya! Old, indeed! What does he care for a husband?
He only cares that you have long, bright hair, redder than rust, and
eyes like blue flowers, and a skin like milk. An angel could not be so
beautiful."

"Ah, Dolores, you flatterer! Seriously, though, don't you realize that
we are Americans, and people of position? An injury to us would bring
terrible consequences upon General Longorio's head. That is why he sent
his soldiers with us."

"All the same," Dolores maintained stubbornly, "I wish I had brought
that shawl and that silver coffee-pot with me."

The homeward journey was a repetition of the journey out; there were
the same idle crowds, the same displays of filthy viands at the
stopping-places, the same heat and dust and delays. Longorio's
lieutenant hovered near, and Jose, as before, was news-gatherer. Hour
after hour they crept toward the border, until at last they were again
laid out on a siding for an indefinite wait.

The occasion for this was made plain when an engine drawi