"Nothing, honey. Nothing in the world. What a master hand you are to
worry."

The lady rose so hastily that the dish upon her lap slid to the floor,
and the other laughed:

"There, Gabriel, you do beat all. If I'd dropped that dish 'twould
have upset, and every slice of citron in it rolled whithrety-yonder.
But for you--it knew better; just slipped off as slick as could be,
landed right side up, and not a morsel scattered. Seem's if dirt nor
nothin' disorderly ever could come a-nigh you, honey."

Mrs. Trent did not even hear. Upon her face had grown a look that hurt
Aunt Sally to see; the more because the feeling it expressed was
continually increasing within her own heart.

Where could Jessica be? Many hours had passed since she vanished from
the laundry window, and if she had gone upon any errand for her
"boys," she would have returned long since. Also, she would be swift
to restore the missing clothes of the little boys, as soon as found,
for she knew they would be prisoners within doors till she had done
so.

"Don't you worry, I tell you, Gabriella. I'll take the great horn and
blow a blast will fetch the whole kerboodle back here, hot foot. If
that don't, I'll ring the mission bell! That'll mean trouble, sure
enough, and its dreadful racket'll reach clear to Los Angeles,
'pears."

The mother crossed to the lattice and leaned against its post.
Something was wrong with her darling. She knew that as well as if she
had been told so by word of mouth, and a dreadful numbness stole over
her whole frame. As if in a dream, she saw Aunt Sally emerge from the
lean-to, where the great horn was kept, and raised the thing to her
lips; but the blast which followed seemed to have been ringing in her
ears forever. The silence that succeeded lasted but a moment, yet was
like an eternity. Then from one direction, and another, came the
ranchmen, understanding that there was need of their presence at the
"house," and each quickly catching something of the fear so plainly
depicted upon the faces of the waiting women.

"John Benton, where's 'Lady Jess'?" demanded Aunt Sally, with terrible
sternness.

"Why, mother, how should I know? I was off to the lemon house early,
fixing some shelves. I haven't seen her to-day and it makes it a long
one."

Came "Marty" from his garden, a hoe over one shoulder and a mighty
vine of ripened tomatoes over the other, exclaiming:

"How's this for a second year's growth? I thought you'd lik