nd showed mercy to a victim who
had no great store of gold. More than once Rosita induced him to spare
the lives of prisoners; and if his career had ended at this time his
name would have come down surrounded by legends of magnanimity. But as
he went on now that large plan of bloodshed became more of a power in
his life. And as it grew to master him he saw Rosita less; he sought
more frequently the companionship of Three-Fingered Jack, who killed
for killing's sake alone. During the last two years he had often
slipped away from his followers and stolen into the church of some
near-by town, to recite the dark catalogue of his sins in the
curtained confessional; but no priest heard him tell his misdeeds from
this time on.

In the north end of Los Angeles, where the old plaza church fronts the
little square of green turf and cabbage-palms, you can still find a
few of the one-story adobe buildings which lined the streets on the
July afternoon when Joaquin Murieta whispered into Deputy Sheriff
Wilson's ear.

He was a young man, this deputy, and bold, and he had come all the way
from Santa Barbara to help hunt down the famous bandit whose followers
were burning ranch buildings and murdering travelers from the summits
of the southland's mountains to the yellow beaches by the summer sea.
Unlike many of the pueblo's citizens, who had formed the habit of
talking of such matters in undertones and looking over their
shoulders as they did so, for fear some lurking Mexican might be one
of Murieta's spies, he voiced his opinions loudly enough for all to
hear. "Get good men together," he said, "and smoke these robbers out.
I'm ready to go with a posse any time." He preached that gospel of
action in the drinking-places, in the gambling-halls, and on the
street, until the very vigor of his voice put new heart into the
listeners. It was beginning to look as if young Deputy Sheriff Wilson
had really started things moving.

On a hot July afternoon he was standing on the narrow sidewalk
surrounded by a group whose members his enthusiasm had drawn out of
doors. Few others were abroad; an occasional Mexican woman in her
black skirt and tight-drawn reboso, a peon or two slouching gracefully
by with the inevitable brown cigarette, and a solitary horseman who
was coming down the street.

The men in the group were so intent on what the deputy was saying that
none of them observed the approach of this horseman until he reined in
his animal cl