pts it, without my consent, she is PENNILESS; that this estate,
this rancho, passes into the hands of the Holy Church, where even your
laws cannot reach it.

Sandy (leaning familiarly over the table). But suppose that he sees that
little bluff, and calls ye.

Don Jose. I do not comprehend you (coldly).

Sandy. Suppose he loves that gal, and will take her as she stands,
without a cent, or hide or hair of yer old cattle.

Don Jose (scornfully). Suppose--a miracle! Hark ye, Diego! It is now
five years since I have known your countrymen, these smart Americanos.
I have yet to know when love, sentiment, friendship, was worth any more
than a money value in your market.

Sandy (truculently and drunkenly). You hev, hev ye? Well, look yar, ole
man. Suppose I REFUSE. Suppose I'd rather go than act as a spy on that
young gal your darter! Suppose that--hic--allowin' she's my friend, I'd
rather starve in the gutters of the Mission than stand between her and
the man she fancies. Hey? Suppose I would--damn me! Suppose I'd see you
and your derned old rancho in--t'other place--hic--damn me. You hear me,
ole man! That's the kind o' man I am--damn me.

Don Jose (aside, rising contemptuously). It is as I suspected. Traitor.
Ingrate! Satisfied that his scheme has failed, he is ready to abandon
her. And this--THIS is the man for whom she has been ready to sacrifice
everything,--her home, her father! (Aloud, coldly.) Be it so, Diego: you
shall go.

Sandy (soberly and seriously, after a pause.) Well, I reckon I had
better. (Rising.) I've a few duds, old man, to put up. It won't take me
long. (Goes to L., and pauses.)

Don Jose (aside). Ah! he hesitates! He is changing his mind. (SANDY
returns slowly to table, pours out glass of liquor, nods to DON JOSE,
and drinks.) I looks towards ye, ole man. Adios!

[Exit SANDY.

Don Jose. His coolness is perfect. If these Americans are cayotes in
their advances, they are lions in retreat! Bueno! I begin to respect
him. But it will be just as well to set Concho to track him to the
Mission; and I will see that he leaves the rancho alone.

[Exit Jose.

Enter hurriedly JOVITA CASTRO, in riding habit, with whip.

So! Chiquita not yet saddled, and that spy Concho haunting the plains
for the last half-hour. What an air of mystery! Something awful,
something deliciously dreadful, has happened! Either my amiable drunkard
has forgotten to despatch Concho on his usual fool's errand, or he
is himself l