y Spanish
caballeros. The commodore, though undersized, was soldierly and very
brisk of manner. Stockton seemed to Inez a gallant figure. While she
danced with him, she found his brisk directness not unpleasing. He asked
her of the rancheros and of reports that came to him of their
dissatisfaction with American authority.

"They seem so cordial," he said, "these Spanish gentlemen. I cannot
believe that they hate us, as it is said."

"Ah, Senor." Inez' smile had faded and her deep and troubled eyes held
his. "They have cause for hatred, though they come in all good will to
welcome you."

As it chanced, they passed just then close to a little group in which
Alcalde Bartlett made a central figure. Two of Stockton's aids were
hanging on his words.

"Tomorrow, gentlemen, we shall go riding. I will find you each a worthy
mount. We raise fine horses on the ranches."

The fiery Sanchez, strolling by, overheard as well. Eyes ablaze, he went
on swiftly joining Vasquez and De Haro near the door. They held low
converse for an instant with their smouldering glances on the pompous
Bartlett. Then they hurried out.

[Illustration: "Ah, Senor," Inez' smile had faded ... "they have cause
for hatred."]

CHAPTER VII

THE RANCHEROS REVOLT

Five horsemen rode into the morning sunshine down El Camino Real toward
the south. One was Washington Bartlett, alcalde of Yerba Buena, whose
rather pursy figure sat with an ungainly lack of grace the mettled horse
which he bestrode. It was none other than Senora Windham's favorite and
beloved mare "Diablo," filched from the Windham stables several days
before. In compensation she received a bit of paper signifying that the
animal was commandeered "for military necessity."

The rancheros were patient fellows, Bartlett reflected. If his
conscience smote him sometimes, he took refuge in the knowledge that
America was still at war with Mexico and that these horses were the
property of alien enemies. Non-combatants, possibly. Yet they had failed
in declaration of allegiance to the United States.

"I'll show you some excellent horseflesh today," he promised his
companions. "And, what's better, you shall have your pick."

"Well, that's extraordinarily good of you, alcalde," said the man who
rode beside him. "But ... do you mean one gets these glorious
animals--for love?"

"Not--er--exactly," Bartlett answered. "You see, my deputies and
officers, like yourself, must ride about to make their