business directness, "you've read enough to
know it isn't for you."

"Nor for you either," responded Juanita.

"True. It is for the Reverend Father Superior of San Jose Mission. I'll
give it to him."

Juanita was becoming alarmed, first at this prospect, second at the
power the stranger seemed to be gaining over her. She recalled
Francisco's description of him with something like superstitious awe.

"But it concerns Francisco. It contains a secret he should know."

"Then you can tell him it. Perhaps it would come easier from you."

Juanita blushed again. "Why?" she asked, half dreading his reply.

"Because," said the American, quietly, "you are old playmates; you are
attached to each other."

Juanita bit her lips. "Why don't you read it yourself?" she asked
bluntly.

"Because I don't read other people's letters, and if it concerns me
you'll tell me."

"What if I don't?"

"Then the Father Superior will."

"I believe you know Francisco's secret already," said the girl, boldly.

"Perhaps."

"Then, Mother of God! Senor Crancho, what do you want?"

"I do not want to separate two such good friends as you and Francisco."

"Perhaps you'd like to claim us both," said the girl, with a sneer that
was not devoid of coquetry.

"I should be delighted."

"Then here is your occasion, Senor, for here comes my adopted father,
Don Juan, and your friend, Senor Br--r--own, the American alcalde."

Two men appeared in the garden path below them. The stiff, glazed,
broad-brimmed black hat, surmounting a dark face of Quixotic gravity
and romantic rectitude, indicated Don Juan Briones. His companion,
lazy, specious, and red-faced, was Senor Brown, the American alcalde.

"Well, I reckon we kin about call the thing fixed," said Senor Brown,
with a large wave of the hand, suggesting a sweeping away of all
trivial details. "Ez I was saying to the Don yer, when two high-toned
gents like you and him come together in a delicate matter of this kind,
it ain't no hoss trade nor sharp practice. The Don is that lofty in
principle that he's willin' to sacrifice his affections for the good of
the gal; and you, on your hand, kalkilate to see all he's done for her,
and go your whole pile better. You'll make the legal formalities good.
I reckon that old Injin woman who can swear to the finding of the baby
on the shore will set things all right yet. For the matter o' that, if
you want anything in the way of a certificate, I'm on hand alw