a
time--before Valencia's return from college--when Kate lacked very
little of being in love with him. He had but to say the word to have
become engaged--and he had not said it. For, while on a visit to the
East, he had called upon his beautiful cousin and she had won his love
at once. This had nipped in the bud any embryonic romance that might
otherwise have been possible with Kate.

A little old Mexican woman with a face like wrinkled leather was waiting
to see them in front of the hotel.

"_Senor_ Pesquiera?" she asked, with a little bob of the body meant to
be a bow.

"Yes."

"And _Senorita_ Valdes?"

"That is my name," answered Valencia.

"Will the _senor_ and the _senorita_ take a walk? The night is fine."

"Where?" demanded Manuel curtly.

"Into old-town, _senor_."

"You have something to tell us."

"To show you, _senor_--for a hundred dollars."

"Sebastian--or is it Pablo?" cried Valencia, in a low voice.

"I say nothing, _senorita_" whined the old woman. "I show you; then you
pay. Is it not so?"

"Get the money, Manuel," his cousin ordered quietly.

Manuel got it from the hotel safe. He took time also to get from his
room a revolver. Gordon had fallen victim to an ambush and he did not
intend to do so if he could help it. In his own mind he had no doubt
that some of their countrymen were selling either Pablo or Sebastian for
the reward, but it was better to be safe than to be sorry.

The old crone led them by side streets into the narrow adobe-lined roads
of old-town. They passed through winding alleys and between buildings
crumbling with age. Always Manuel watched, his right hand in his coat
pocket. At the entrance to a little court a man emerged from the shadow
of a wall. He whispered with the old dame for a minute.

"Come. Make an end of this and show us what you have to show, _muy
pronto_," interrupted Manuel impatiently.

"In good time, _senor_," the man apologized.

"Just a word first, my friend. I have a revolver in my hand. If there is
trickery in your mind, better give it up. I'm a dead shot, and I'll put
the first bullet through your heart. Now lead on."

The Mexican threw up his hands in protest to all the saints that his
purpose was good. He would assuredly keep faith, _senor_.

"See you do," replied the Spaniard curtly.

Their guide rapped three times on a door of a tumble-down shack.
Cautiously it was opened a few inches. There was another whispered
conversation.

"T