vidently personally pleased to see the strange ladies; but that
Chinaman was no fool; he had his instructions and was carrying them out;
and Mrs. Frazer, whose eyes are very keen, was confident that she saw
the curtains in an upper window gathered just so as to admit a pair of
eyes to peep down at the fort wagon with its fair occupants. But the
face of which she caught a glimpse was not that of a young woman. They
gave the Chinaman their cards, which he curiously inspected and was
evidently at a loss what to do with, and after telling him to give them
to the ladies when they came home they drove over to the Crocker Ranch.
Here only Mexicans were visible about the premises, and, though Mrs.
Frazer's Spanish was equal to the task of asking them for water for
herself and friend, she could not get an intelligible reply from the
swarthy Ganymede who brought them the brimming glasses as to the
ladies--_Las senoras_--at the other ranch. They asked for the Crockers,
and the Mexican only vaguely pointed up the valley. It was in defeat and
humiliation that the ladies with their escort, Mr. Baker, returned to
the fort, but Baker rode up again and took a comrade with him, and they
both saw the girl with the lovely face and form this time, and had
almost accosted her when a sharp, stern voice called her within. A
fortnight more and a dozen men, officers or soldiers, had rounded that
ranch and had seen two women,--one middle-aged, the other a girl of
about eighteen who was fair and bewitchingly pretty. Baker had bowed to
her and she had smiled sweetly on him, even while being drawn within
doors. One or two men had cornered Burnham and began to ask questions.
'Gentlemen,' said he, 'I'm a poor hand at talk. I've no education. I've
lived on the frontier all my life. I mean no offence, but I cannot
answer your questions and I cannot ask you into my house. For
explanation, I refer you to Mr. Crocker.' Then Baker and a chum of his
rode over and called on the elder Crocker, and asked for the
explanation. That only added to the strangeness of the thing.

"'It is true, gentlemen, that Mr. Burnham's wife and child are now with
him; but, partially because of her, his wife's, infirm health, and
partially because of a most distressing and unfortunate experience in
his past, our kinsman begs that no one will attempt to call at the
ranch. He appreciates all the courtesy the gentlemen and ladies at the
fort would show, and have shown, but he feels co