only would accompany the expedition. The talk fell
upon other matters. Alcalde Bartlett had been discredited, though not
officially, since his return from capture by the rancheros. He was soon
to be displaced and there would be no further commandeering of horses
and cattle.

"The commandante tells me," Windham said, "that there is still no news
of the Warren's launch which was sent last December to pay the garrison
at Sutter's Fort. Bob Ridley's men, who cruised the San Joaquin and
Sacramento rivers, found nothing."

"But--the boat and its crew couldn't vanish completely?" Benito's tone
held puzzled incredulity. "There would be Wreckage. Floating bodies--"

"Unless," said Adrian, "they had been hidden--buried secretly, perhaps."

"Adrian, what do you mean?" asked Inez in excitement. "It was about the
time that--"

"McTurpin left," responded Stanley. "I've heard more than a whisper of
his possible connection with the disappearance. McTurpin didn't leave
alone. He rounded up half a dozen rough-looking fellows and they rode
out of town together."

There was a silence. Then Benito spoke. "We haven't seen the last of
him, I fear."

CHAPTER XII

THE NEW YORK VOLUNTEERS

It was almost a month later that Inez galloped home from San Francisco
with a precious missive from the absent brother. They had outfitted at
Johnson's ranch near Sacramento and, encountered the first expedition
returning with twenty-two starved wretches from the Donner Camp. Many
women and children still remained there.

"We started on the day which is a gringo fete because it is the natal
anniversary of the great George Washington," Benito's chronicle
concluded. "May it prove a good omen, and may we bring freedom, life to
the poor souls engulfed by the snowdrifts. I kiss your hands. BENITO."

A fortnight passed before there came another letter. The second relief
party had reached Donner Camp without mishap but, with seventeen
survivors, had been storm-bound on a mountain summit and returned with
but eleven of the rescued after frightful hardship. Benito was
recuperating in a Sacramento hospital from frozen feet.

* * * * *

"Look, Roberto," exclaimed Senora Windham as they cantered into San
Francisco one morning. "A ship all gay with banners! See the townsfolk
are excited. They rush to the Embarcadero. The band plays. It must be
the festival of some Americano patron saint."

"It is the long expected New Yo