Her face was stamped in the image of
shocked amazement, she scarcely breathed through her slightly parted
lips.

"You're talking nonsense, Bruce," Jim said emphatically. "Sheer rot.
She's just Betty Gordon and in a peck of trouble. It's up to you and
me, being countrymen of hers, to see her through instead of hurting her
feelings."

Bruce regarded him somberly.

"Old Headlong," he said slowly, "you're just the man to mistake a
woman. You've judged Zoraida Castelmar wrong; you're making a mistake
with Miss Pansy Blossom."

"You fool!" cried Jim angrily. "Where the devil have your wits gone?
You call this child an adventuress? Why, man alive, can't you see
she's just baby?"

"Pansy Blossom's record----" began Bruce.

"Deuce take Pansy Blossom! We're talking about Betty Gordon, this poor
little lost kid here. Who told you that she was the same as that
dancing woman?" Bruce made no answer. "Was it Zoraida Castelmar?"
demanded Kendric. "Tell me. Is that what Zoraida Castelmar had to say
about her?"

"Well?" challenged Bruce. "Suppose it was?"

"What else did she tell you?" Jim had him by the arm now and his eyes
were blazing. "Spit it out, boy. What other rot?"

"It's not rot, Jim. If you'll keep your eyes open and think a little
you'll know as much as I know."

Kendric groaned. "There's a game on foot that has a bad look to it.
Escobar is in it and Rios and--your young lady friend. If you'll give
me a few minutes presently, I'll explain."

"Escobar and Betty Gordon! Why, there's nothing between them but fear
and hatred. Or rather that's all there was; Escobar's lying dead out
there now. Ruiz Rios plugged him square through the heart just now.
And now he's taking _your_ lady friend out to tell her about it! Betty
is their captive, held for ransom, as I told you."

"Or appears to be?" Bruce jerked his arm away and began moving
restlessly up and down, looking always toward the door through which
Zoraida had gone. Kendric turned toward Betty. She had not stirred;
her cheeks were still burning. Apparently she had heard a very great
deal of unsavory report of the lady Bruce mistook her for. Only the
expression in her eyes and about her lips had changed; now it was one
of passionate anger. The look surprised him. He began to think of
Betty in altered terms. She wasn't just the baby he had named her and
she wasn't just the little kid of sixteen he had at first taken her to
be. During