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  As it chanced, they passed just then close to a little group in whichAlcalde Bartlett made a central figure. Two of Stockton's aids werehanging on his words.

  "Tomorrow, gentlemen, we shall go riding. I will find you each a worthymount. We raise fine horses on the ranches."

  The fiery Sanchez, strolling by, overheard as well. Eyes ablaze, he wenton swiftly joining Vasquez and De Haro near the door. They held lowconverse for an instant with their smouldering glances on the pompousBartlett. Then they hurried out.

  "Ah, Senor," Inez' smile had faded ... "they have causefor hatred."]

  CHAPTER VII

  THE RANCHEROS REVOLT

  Five horsemen rode into the morning sunshine down El Camino Real towardthe south. One was Washington Bartlett, alcalde of Yerba Buena, whoserather pursy figure sat with an ungainly lack of grace the mettled horsewhich he bestrode. It was none other than Senora Windham's favorite andbeloved mare "Diablo," filched from the Windham stables several daysbefore. In compensation she received a bit of paper signifying that theanimal was commandeered "for military necessity."

  The rancheros were patient fellows, Bartlett reflected. If hisconscience smote him sometimes, he took refuge in the knowledge thatAmerica was still at war with Mexico and that these horses were theproperty of alien enemies. Non-combatants, possibly. Yet they had failedin declaration of allegiance to the United States.

  "I'll show you some excellent horseflesh today," he promised hiscompanions. "And, what's better, you shall have your pick."

  "Well, that's extraordinarily good of you, alcalde," said the man whorode beside him. "But ... do you mean one gets these gloriousanimals--for love?"

  "Not--er--exactly," Bartlett answered. "You see, my deputies andofficers, like yourself, must ride about to make their observations andreports. Such are the needs of war."

  "Of course," another rider nodded understandingly. "And as alcalde youhave many deputies."

  "As well as many--er--observation officers like ourselves to supply," athird supplemented, slyly dropping one eyelid.

  The fourth man said nothing for a time. Then, rather unexpectedly, heasked: "And what do you give them in exchange, alcalde?"

  Bartlett turned in some surprise. "I give them notes of hand," heanswered half resentfully. "Notes redeemable in American gold--when thewar is over."

  "And, are these notes negotiable security? Will your shop-keepers acceptthem in lieu of coin?"

  "At proper discounts--yes," said Bartlett, flushing.

  "I have heard," the other remarked almost musingly, "that they areredeemable at from fifteen to twenty per cent. And that the only man whoaccepts them at even half of their face value is McTurpin the gambler."

  "That is not my business," Bartlett answered brusquely. The quintet rodeon, absorbed and silent. Below them swept green reaches of ranch land,dotted here and there with cattle and horses or the picturesquehaciendas of old Spanish families. The camino stretched white and broadbefore them, winding through rolling hillocks, shaded sometimes by hugeoverhanging trees.

  "Isn't this Francisco Sanchez, whom we go to visit, a soldier, a formercommandante of your town, alcalde?" asked a rider.

  "Yes, the same one who ran away when Montgomery came." Bartlett laughed."It was several days before he dared come out of the brush to take alook at the 'gringo invader.'"

  "I met him at the reception to Commodore Stockton," said the man whorode beside Bartlett. "He didn't impress me as a timid chap, exactly.Something of a fire-eater, I'd have said."

  "Oh, they're all fire-eaters--on the surface," Bartlett's tone wasdisdainful. "But you may all judge for yourselves in a moment. For, ifI'm not mistaken, he's coming up the road to meet us."

  "By jove, he sits his horse like a king," said Bartlett's companion,admiringly. "Who are those chaps with him? Looks like a sortof--reception committee."

  "They are Guerrero and Vasquez and--oh, yes, young Benito Windham,"Bartlett answered. He spurred his horse and the others followed; therewas something about the half careless formation of the four riders aheadwhich vaguely troubled the alcalde.

  "Buenos dias, caballeros," he saluted in his faulty Spanish.

  "Buenos dias, senors," Sanchez spoke with unusual crispness. "You havecome for horses, doubtless, amigo alcalde?"

  "Ah--er--yes," said Bartlett. "The necessities of war are great," headded apologetically.

  "And suppose we refuse?" Benito Windham pressed forward, blazing out thewords in passionate anger. "Suppose we deny your manufacturedrequisitions? Whence came the horse you sit like a very clown? I willtell you, tyrant and despoiler. It was stolen from my mother byyour thieves."

  "Benito, hold your peace," said Sanchez sternly. "I will deal with thisgood gentleman and his friends. They shall be our guests for a time."

  As though the words had been a signal, five lariats descended apparentlyfrom a clear sky, each falling over the head of a member of Bartlett'sparty. They settled neatly and were tightened, pinning the arms ofriders helplessly.

  "Well done, amigos," commented Sanchez as a quintet of grinning vaquerosrode up from the rear. "As you have so aptly said, the necessities ofwar are paramount, alcalde."

  "What's the meaning of this?" demanded Bartlett. "Release us instantly,or you shall suffer. Do you think," he sneered, "that a handful ofgreasers can defy the United States?"

  "Perchance, with so important an official as the great Alcalde Bartlettfor your hostage, we can reach a compromise on certain points," saidSanchez. "Come, you shall suffer no hardship, if you accept thesituation reasonably."

  "I warn you that this means death or imprisonment to all of you,"Bartlett shouted.

  "Ah, senor, the risks of war are many." Sanchez' teeth flashed. Heclucked to his horse and the little cavalcade wound, single-file, up anarrow horse-trail toward the hills.

  They passed many bands of horsemen, all armed, saluting Sanchez as theirchief. Among them were owners and vaqueros from a score of ranches.There was something grim, determined in their manner which forebodedserious trouble.

  One of Bartlett's fellow-captives leaned toward him, whispering: "Thosefellows mean business. They're like hornets if you stir 'em up too far,these greasers."

  "Yes, by Jove! And they mean to sting!" said another.

  CHAPTER VIII

  McTURPIN'S COUP

  Yerba Buena was in an uproar. Sanchez' capture of Alcalde Bartlett andhis party had brought home with a vengeance the war which hitherto wasbut an echo from far Mexico. Now the peaceful pueblo was an armed camp.Volunteers rode in from San Jose, San Juan and other nearby pueblos,asking for a chance to "fight the greasers." All the ranches of thecountryside buzzed with a martial ardor. Vaqueros, spurred with janglingsilver-mounted harness, toward Francisco Sanchez' stronghold in theSanta Clara hills to battle with the "gringo tyrants."

  Commander Hull of the "Warren" had sent a hundred sailors and marinesfrom his sloop, post haste, to quell the rebellion. Couriers rode to andfro between his headquarters in the custom house and the punitiveexpedition under Captain Ward Marston which was scouting the Santa Claraplains in search of the enemy.

  Even now the battle waged, no doubt, for Marston that morning reported abrush with the enemy, had asked for reinforcements. Hull had sent posthaste a pack of ill assorted and undrilled adventurers from among thenew arrivals. That was 9 o'clock and now the sun had passed its noonmeridian--with no courier.

  William Leidesdorff came strolling up, his expression placid, smiling asalways. He was warm from toiling up the hill and paused, panting, hat inhand, to mop his brow with a large red 'kerchief.

  "Ha! Commander!" he saluted. "And how goes it this morning?"

  Hull glanced at him half irritated, half amused. One could never quitebe angry at this fellow nor in tune with him. Leidesdorff, with hischerubic grin, his plump, comfortable body, the close-cropped hair, sidewhiskers and moustache, framing and embellishing his round face with anornate symmetry, was like a bearded cupid. Hull handed him the latestdispatch. "Not
hing since then, confound it!" he said gloomily.

  "Ah, well," spoke Leidesdorff, with unction, "one should not be alarmed.What is that cloud of dust on the horizon? A courier perhaps."

  It proved to be Samuel Brannan, dusty and weary, with dispatches fromCaptain Ward which Hull almost snatched from his hand. A group of menand women who had watched his arrival, gathered about asking questions.Nathan Spear spoke first. He had been too ill to join the Americans, buthad furnished them horses and arms. "How goes it with our 'army,' Sam?"he asked.

  "None too well," said Brannan. "Those greasers can fight and they've agood leader. Everyone of them would die for Sanchez. And everyone's asharpshooter. For a time they amused themselves this morning knockingoff our hats--it rather demoralized the recruits."

  Hull, with an imprecation, crushed the dispatch and turned to Brannan."We must have more men and quickly," he announced. "Ward asks forinstant reinforcements.... Can you recruit--say fifty--fromyour colony?"

  "Impossible," said Brannan, shortly. "I have sent all who can ride ormanage a rifle." He came a little closer and regarded the commandersteadily. "Did Ward write anything about a parley?" he inquired.

  "Yes," said Hull. "He indicates that peace might be arranged if I willgive a guarantee against further horse or cattle commandeering."

  "May I suggest that such a course is wise--and just?"

  "Damn it, sir! You'd have me treat with these--these brigands!" theother shouted. "Never. They've defied the United States by layingviolent hands on an official. They've wounded two of my marines."

  He turned to the crowd which had assembled. "Do you hear that? TwoAmericans wounded. Five held in captivity--including your alcalde. Shallwe stand that passively? Shall we let the enemy dictate terms?"

  "No, no!" a voice shouted. "Fight to the last ditch. Kill the greasers.Hang them to a tree. I'm with you, horse and gun. Who else?"

  "I, I, I," a score made answer. They pressed forward. "Who's to leadus?" asked the first speaker.

  Brannan stepped forward but Commander Hull raised a protesting hand. "Ishall send a corporal of marines from the Warren. You will rest yourhorse, since I cannot spare you a fresh mount, and hold yourself inreadiness to act as a courier, Mr. Brannan." He summoned an orderly andsent him to the Warren with an order to Corporal Smith. Meanwhile thevolunteers assembled in the square, thirty-four in all; men of half adozen nationalities. One giant Russian loomed above them, a Goliath on agreat roan horse. And near him, to accentuate the contrast, an elderlymoustached, imperialed Frenchman on a mare as under-sized and spiritedas himself.

  Brannan and Leidesdorff watched them galloping down the camino tenminutes later under the guidance of a smart young corporal.

  "I trust it will soon be over," said the former. "I saw Benito Windhamriding beside Sanchez in the battle today."

  * * * * *

  The Senorita Inez' head was high that afternoon when McTurpin came uponher suddenly in the patio of the Windham hacienda. She rose haughtily."Senor, this intrusion is unpardonable. If my brother was withincall--" McTurpin bowed low. There was a touch of mockery in his eye."It is about your brother that I've come to talk with you, Miss Inez."

  The girl's hand sought her breast. "Benito! He is not--" Words failedher.

  "No, not dead--yet," McTurpin answered.

  "God in Heaven! Tell me," said the girl, imploringly! "He is wounded?Dying?" McTurpin took a seat beside her on the rustic bench. "Benitoisn't dead--nor wounded so far as I know. But," his tone held an ominousmeaning, "it might be better if he were."

  "I--I do not understand," said Inez, staring.

  "Then let me make it clear." McTurpin struck a fist against his palm."Your brother is American. Very well. And what is an American who takesup arms against his country?"

  The girl sprang up. "It is a lie. Benito fights for freedom, justiceonly--"

  "That is not the view of our American Commander," McTurpin rose andfaced her. "The law of war is that a man who fights against his countryis a traitor." His eyes held hers hypnotically. "When this revolt isover there will be imprisonment or pardon for the Spanish-Californians._But Benito will be hanged_."

  Inez Windham swayed. One hand grasped at the bench-back for support; theother clutched her bodice near the throat. "Benito," she said almost ina whisper. Then she turned upon McTurpin furiously. "Go," she cried. "Ido not believe you. Go!"

  But McTurpin did not stir. "It is the law of nations," he declared, "nouse denying it, Miss Windham."

  "Why did you come to tell me this? To torture me?"

  "To save you--and your brother?"

  "How?" she asked fiercely.

  "I have influence with Alcalde Bartlett." The gambler smiled. "He owesme--more than he can pay. But if that fails ..." he turned toward hereagerly, "I have means to accomplish his escape."

  "And the price," she stammered. "There is a price, isn't there?"

  His gaze met hers directly, "You, little Inez."

  CHAPTER IX

  THE ELOPEMENT

  Two riders, a man and a veiled woman evidently young, halted theirhorses in Portsmouth Square, where the former alighted and offered anarm to his companion. She, however, disdaining his assistance, spranglightly from the saddle and, turning her back on him, gazed, motionless,toward the bay. There was something arresting and curiously dramaticabout the whole performance, something that hinted of impending tragedy.The slight figure with its listless droop and stony immobility caughtand clutched the sympathies of Nathan Spear as he was passing by. Theman was Alec McTurpin; the girl, no doubt, some light o' love from aneighboring pueblo. Yet there was a disturbing familiarity about her.

  Spear watched them go across the square toward the City Hotel, a long,one-story adobe structure built by Leidesdorff as a store and home. Onthe veranda stood the stocky figure of Proprietor Brown, smoking a longpipe and conversing with half a dozen roughly dressed men who loungedabout the entrance. He looked up wonderingly as McTurpin approached. Thelatter drew him to one side and appeared to make certain demands towhich Brown acquiesced by a curt nod, as if reluctant. Then the man andwoman passed around a corner of the building, the loungers peeringcuriously after them.

  A little later Spear observed the gambler issue forth alone and journeyrapidly toward the landing dock. He noted that a strange ship rode atanchor. It must have come within the hour, he decided. Impelled bycuriosity, he descended in McTurpin's wake.

  "What ship is that?" he asked of Leidesdorff.

  "I haven't learned her name. She's from the north coast with a lot ofsick men. They've the scurvy and flux, I'm told. Dr. Jones hasgone aboard."

  "I wonder what McTurpin's doing at the ship?" said Spear. "He'll get nogambling victims out of ailing seamen."

  "It's something else he wants, I fancy," said Bob Ridley, coming fromthe dock toward them. "He's looking for a preacher--"

  "Preacher?" cried the other men in unison.

  "Yes," responded Ridley. "Aleck's going to be married, the sly dog. Andsince the padres will have nothing to do with him, he's hard pressed.Perhaps the wench is a stickler for proprieties," he laughed. "Someonetold him there was a sky pilot aboard the ship!"

  * * * * *

  Inez Windham removed her veil. She was in a small room, almost dark,where McTurpin had left her after locking the door on the outside. Itwas like a cell, with one small window high and narrow which let in astraggling transmitted light, dimming mercifully the crude outlines of awooden stool, a bedstead of rough lumber, covered by soiled blankets, abox-like commode upon which stood a pitcher and basin of heavy crockery.

  The walls were very thin. From beyond them, in what was evidently apublic chamber, came snatches of talk interspersed with oaths, a clickof poker chips and coin, now and then a song. An odor of rank tobaccoseeped through the muslin-covered walls. With a sudden feeling ofnausea, of complete despair, the girl threw herself face down uponthe bed.

  For a time Inez lay there, obl
ivious to all save the misery of herfate. If only her father had not gone with those northern engineers! Ifonly Benito were here to advise her! Benito, her beloved brother, inwhose path the gallows loomed. It was that picture which had caused herto yield to McTurpin. Even darker, now, was the picture of her ownfuture. A gambler's wife! Her hand sought a jewelled dagger which shealways carried in her coiffure. Her fingers closed about the hilt with acertain solace. After Benito was safe--

  Voices in the next room caught her interest by a mention of the SantaClara battle.

  "Hull is fighting mad," she heard. "He promises to bring the greasers totheir knees. It's unconditional surrender or no quarter, Brannan says."

  "First catch your pig--then butcher it," said another, meaningly. "TheSpaniards have the best of it thus far. Hull's shouting frantically forreinforcements. Well, he won't get me. I think the rancheros have theirside as well as we. If this stiff-necked commander would listento reason."

  "He hasn't heard the other side," the first speaker resumed. "If he knewwhat Alcalde Bartlett had done to these poor devils through his horseand cattle raids--"

  A third man laughed. "He'll never learn that, partner, have no fear;who'll tell him?"

  "Well, here's to Uncle Sam," said a fourth voice. Followed a clink ofglasses. Inez Windham sat up swiftly and dried her eyes. A daringthought had come to her.

  Why should not she tell Commander Hull the truth!

  She rose and smoothed her ruffled gown. A swift look from the windowrevealed that the road was clear. Inez began tugging at the door. Itresisted her efforts, but she renewed the battle with all the fury ofher youthful strength. Finally the flimsy lock gave a bit beneath herefforts; a narrow slit appeared between the door and jamb in which sheforced her hands and thus secured a great purchase. Then, one footagainst the wall, she tugged and pried and pulled until, with a suddencrack, the bar to liberty sprang open.