tell."

"That's simply a yarn for greenhorns," said Demorest, contemptuously.
"I know all the ranch proprietors for twenty leagues around, and they've
lost as many cattle and horses as I have."

"I wanter know," said Ezekiel, with grim interest. "Then you've already
had consid'ble losses, eh? I kalkilate them cattle are vally'ble--about
wot figger do you reckon yer out and injured?"

"Three or four thousand dollars, I suppose, altogether," replied
Demorest, shortly.

"Then you don't take any stock in them yer yarns about the gang being
run and protected by some first-class men in Frisco?" said Ezekiel,
regretfully.

"Not much," responded Demorest, dryly; "but if people choose to believe
this bluff gotten up by the petty thieves themselves to increase their
importance and secure their immunity--they can. But here's Manuel to
tell us supper is ready."

He led the way to the corridor and courtyard which Ezekiel had not
penetrated on account of its obscurity and solitude, but which now
seemed to be peopled with peons and household servants of both sexes. At
the end of a long low-ceilinged room a table was spread with omelettes,
chupa, cakes, chocolate, grapes, and melons, around which half a dozen
attendants stood gravely in waiting. The size of the room, which to
Ezekiel's eyes looked as large as the church at North Liberty, the
profusion of the viands, the six attendants for the host and solitary
guest, deeply impressed him. Morally rebelling against this feudal
display and extravagance, he, who had disdained to even assist the
Blandfords' servant-in-waiting at table and had always made his
solitary meal on the kitchen dresser, was not above feeling a material
satisfaction in sitting on equal terms with his master's friend and
being served by these menials he despised. He did full justice to
the victuals of which Demorest partook in sparing abstraction, and
particularly to the fruit, which Demorest did not touch at all.
Observant of his servants' eyes fixed in wonder on the strange guest who
had just disposed of a second melon at supper, Demorest could not help
remarking that he would lose credit as a medico with the natives unless
he restrained a public exhibition of his tastes.

"Ez ha'aw?" queried Ezekiel.

"They have a proverb here that fruit is gold in the morning, silver at
noon, and lead at night."

"That'll do for lazy stomicks," said the unabashed Ezekiel. "When
they're once fortified by Jones' bitter