innocent as spring violets. Was she always like this--was this the
real, true Zoraida-- He felt her influence upon him, pervading his
senses like heavy perfume, and spoke hurriedly.

"You and I are different sorts of people," he answered. "Our ideas as
well as our ideals are of different orders."

"And what if I altered?" whispered Zoraida, coming closer to him.
"What it I discarded all of my ideas and ideals. Yes, and my ambitions
with them! What then, Senor Jim Kendric?"

He shook his head and moved restlessly.

"I am no woman's man, you know that. And if I were, you know also that
you are not my kind of woman."

And still no passionate outburst came from Zoraida denied! Rather she
grew more deeply meditative. Almost she seemed saddened and weary.

"Your kind of woman," she mused. And then, in pure jest, "Like
Escobar's captive?"

For some obscure reason after which he did not grope the half sneer of
the words stung Kendric into a sharp retort.

"By heaven, yes!" he cried. "There's the sort of girl for any man to
put his trust in, to give the best that is in him!"

Zoraida gasped. Utter amazement filled her eyes. Then came
incredulity: she would not believe. But when she saw the seriousness
of his eyes, her passion burst out upon him. Her two hands rose and
clenched themselves on her panting breast, her eyes lost their shadow
of amazement and grew brilliant with anger.

"That little baby-faced doll!" she cried. "She has dared make eyes at
you. And you, blind fool that you are, have turned from _me_ to
_her_!" Her voice shook, her whole body trembled visibly, then
stiffened. In a flash all girlish softness was gone; she looked as
cold and cruel as steel. "I had thought to let her go when the ransom
came. Now I shall have other plans for her."

Kendric stared.

"In the first place," he said with an assumption of carelessness, "you
have overshot the mark: Betty Gordon hasn't made eyes at me at all and
I'm not in love with her and have no intentions of being. Next, I fail
to see what has happened that would alter your plans in her regard?"

Zoraida laughed her disbelief.

"Any girl in her place would make eyes at you," she retorted. "And as
for my plans, perhaps you may be allowed to watch the working out of
them! Would you enjoy," she taunted him, "the sight of Betty Gordon in
a steel cage into which we allowed to enter a certain pet of mine?"

At first he did not understand. The