his Marto Cavayso did that?" demanded Kit as she showed her
scarred slender wrist over which Valencia had wept.

"No, it was before Cavayso--he is a new man--so I think this was when
Conrad was first helping to plan me as an insane woman and have me put
secretly to prison, but some fear struck Jose Perez, and that plan
would not serve. In the dark of night I was half smothered in wraps
and put in an ox-cart of a countryman and hauled north out of the
city. Two men rode as guard. They chained me in the day and slept,
traveling only in the night until they met Cavayso and his men. After
that I remember little, I was so weary of life! One alcalde asked
about me and Cavayso said I was his wife who had run away with a gypsy
fiddler, and he was taking me home to my children. Of what use to
speak? A dozen men would have added their testimony to his, and had
sport in making other romance against me. They were sullen because
they thought I had jewels hid under my clothes, and Cavayso would not
let them search me. It has been hell in these hills of Sonora, Senor
Pajarito."

"That is easy to understand," agreed Kit wondering at her endurance,
and wondering at the poise and beauty of her after such experience.
There was no trace of nervousness, or of tears, or self-pity. It was
as if all this of which she told had been a minor affair, dwarfed by
some tragic thing to which he had no key.

"So, Conrad was in this plot against you?" he asked, and knew that
Tula, standing back of his chair had missed no word. "You mean the
German Conrad who is manager of Granados ranches across the border?"

"Senor, I mean the beast whose trail is red with the blood of
innocence, and whose poison is sinking into the veins of Mexico like a
serpent, striking secretly, now here, now there, until the blood of
the land is black with that venom. Ay! I know, senor;--the earth is
acrawl with the German lizards creeping into the shining sun of
Mexico! This so excellent Don Adolf Conrad is only one, and Jose Perez
is his target--I am the one to know that! A year ago, and Don Jose was
a man, with faults perhaps; but who is perfect on this earth? Then
came Don Adolf riding south and is very great gentleman and makes
friends. His home in Hermosillo becomes little by little the house of
Perez, and little by little Perez goes on crooked paths. That is true!
First it was to buy a ship for coast trade, then selling rifles in
secret where they should not be sold, th