in order. The
bar of the padlock was almost filed through--three minutes more, and
Pomponio would have been away with his booty. As further sleep that
night was out of the question, the Father and one of the men remained on
guard in the room until dawn, the others reconnoitering every half-hour
to see that all was quiet around the mission.

When morning came; the first thing the Father did was to send a
messenger to the presidio, four miles distant, with a letter to the
commandant, relating the occurrence of the night, and asking for a guard
for the mission, and a number of men to take up the hunt for the escaped
culprit. The soldiers arrived during the day, and at once made active
preparations for finding Pomponio. Beyond knowing the general direction
he had taken in fleeing from the mission, which the padre had noted as
well as he could in the darkness, the hunters were wholly at sea as to
where to look. He might be in any part of the hills and forests which
surrounded the mission on all sides. To the north he would probably not
go, for that way lay the presidio, and the country was more open and
traveled, as well as terminating, at no great distance, at the water's
edge of the bay. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to find an
Indian of Pomponio's intelligence, but the soldiers began their task,
searching near, and far, visiting the various rancheras and the room,
to rob which he had made such a bold and country for many days, but
without result. We shall leave them for a while, and see what is become
of our fugitive.

As Pomponio passed the Father in his flight from the room, to rob which
he had made such a bold and nearly successful attempt, he heard the
priest calling him to stop; but what cared he for his master? Had not he
been fleeing for his liberty and, perhaps, for his life, he would have
killed the Father on the spot: not because he hated his kind teacher,
but because in him was embodied the life of the mission, or so it seemed
to Pomponio; and his death would have been one blow given toward the
freedom of his kind. But Pomponio's first thought now was for his own
safety, and he took the shortest course to the forests south of the
mission. As much at home among the great trees as at the mission,
he made his way into their depths with unerring aim, in spite of the
Egyptian darkness, until he reached a slight thinning of the trees,
where he halted. The spot, mentioned at the beginning of this tale, wa