Part 4 (2/2)

So they h Frank was far fro the mystery of the re heavily on the plain, across which a cool and refreshi+ng breath came from the distant er,of bandits at any an to breathe easier, and, before long, they were riding along the dusty road that led into the little town

Entering Mendoza they found on each hand low buildings connected by long, white adobe walls, against which grew prickly pears in abundance, running in straggling lines away out upon the open country

About the edges of the toere little fires, winking redly here and there, with earthen pots which were balanced on seneralover the pots, surrounded by swarthy children and lazymeal

Groups of peons,with their backs to the adobe walls, apparently fast asleep; but Frank noted that glittering, black eyes peered out from between the serapes and the huts, and he had no doubt but that ly cut a throat for a ridiculously small sum of money

Within the town it was different All day theshutters had been closely barred, but now they were flung wide, and the flash of dark eyes or the low, h of a senorita told that the maidens who had lolled all the hot day were now astir

Doors were flung wide, and houses which at midday had seemed uninhabited were astir with life In the patios beautiful gardens were blooates easy-chairs and hammocks could be seen

Many of the senoritas had coroups of threes or fours, dressed in pink and white laith Spanish veils and fans The s and red-heeled slippers

Many a witching glance was shyly cast at Frank, but his mind was so occupied that he heeded none of the, when a battered and tattered old ed blanket, and whose face was hidden by a scraggly, white beard, ca step

”Pardon me,” he said, in a thin, cracked voice, ”I see you are Americans, natives of the States, Yankees, and, as I happen to be froan, I hasten to speak to you I know you will have pity on an unfortunate countryman My story is short My son came to this wretched land to try towell He sentlittle sum after a time Then he fell into the hands of Pacheco, the bandit You have heard of Pacheco, gentleet a fair look into the old reed the professor

”Vell, you can pet my poots on dot!” nodded Hans

”The wretch--the cutthroat!” cried the oldhis clinched hand in the air ”Why didn't he kill !”

”Tell us--finish your story,” urged the professor

Frank said nothing The light fro for the ht would shi+ne on his face

For soitated to proceed, but he finally went on

”My son--my son fell into the hands of this wretched bandit Pacheco took him captive Then he sent word to me that he would murder my son if I did not appear and pay two thousand dollars ransom money Two thousand dollars! I did not have it in the world But I had a little ho to raise the money to save my boy I obtained it

And then--then, my friends, I received another letter Then Pacheco demanded three thousand dollars”

”Der brice vos on der jump,” murmured Hans

”But that is not the worst!” cried the oldhis ar his hands, and groaned as if with great anguish

”Be caled Professor Scotch ”My dear sir, you are working yourself into a dreadful state”

”How can I be caler ”It is not possible to be cal!”