y arm, Pablo," the
girl cried.

"It is my heart you hurt, _nina_. Is it true that this thief has stolen
the love of my Juanita?"

"You are a fool, Pablo. He has never said a hundred words to me. All
through his sickness he has talked and talked--but it is of _Senorita_
Valdes that he has raved."

"So. He will rob her of all she has and yet can talk of loving her. Do
you not see he is a villain, that he has the forked tongue, as old Bear
Paw, the Navajo, says of all gringoes? But let Senor Gordon beware. His
time is short. He will not live to drive us from the valley. So say I.
So say all the men in the valley."

"No--no! I will not have it, Pablo. You do not know. This _Senor_ Gordon
is good. He would not drive us away." Her arms slid around the neck of
her lover and she pleaded with him impetuously. "You must not let them
hurt him, for it is a kind heart he has."

"Why should I interfere? He is only a gringo. Let him die. I tell you he
means harm to all of us."

"I do not know my Pablo when he talks like this. My Pablo was always
kind and good and of a soft heart. I do not love him when he is cruel."

"It is then that you love the American," he cried. "Did I not know it?
Did I not say so?"

"You say much that is foolish, _muchacho_. The American is a stranger to
me ... and you are Pablo. But how can I love you when your heart is full
of cruelty and jealousy and revenge? Go to the Blessed Virgin and
confess before the good priest your sins, _amigo_."

"_Amigo!_ Since when have I been friend to you and not lover, Juanita? I
know well for how long--since this gringo with the white face crossed
your trail."

Suddenly she flung away from him. "_Muy bien!_ You shall think as you
please. Adios, my friend with the head of a donkey! _Adios, icabron!_"

She was gone, light as the wind, flying with swift feet down the trail
to the house. Sulkily he waited for her to come out again, but the girl
did not appear. He gave her a full half hour before he swung to the
saddle and turned the head of his pony toward the Valdes' hacienda. A
new and poignant bitterness surged in his heart. Had this stranger, who
was bringing trouble to the whole valley, come between him and little
Juanita, whom he had loved since they had been children? Had he stolen
her heart with his devilish wiles? The hard glitter in the black eyes of
the Mexican told that he would punish him if this were true.

His younger brother Pedro took the horse fro