“There’s not much love shown for the greasers nowadays, you know.” “Well, I don’t care. Pedro is not like a common greaser; he is a real gentleman.” “Especially in his table manners,” returned John laughing. “He’s no worse than Bud Haley, and I am sure Lolita is far above dear old Hannah Maria who looks down on her.” “Lolita is something of an anomaly, I admit,” said John as he left the gallery where the two had been talking. CHAPTER XII A CLUE That so large a family was quartered at the Ross ranch caused no special comment. It was the custom of the country, destitute of wayside inns, and sparsely settled, for any house to be opened to the passing traveler, and families often received for any length of time, those whose circumstances made it difficult for them to do otherwise than accept such hospitality as was offered them. In the case of those congregated at the Ross ranch all were acquainted; they were neighbors, and were as congenial a party as could be found in that much mixed country. Mrs. Van Dorn was a more than usually refined woman who had come to Texas because of her husband’s ill health, and after his death had remained because of her eldest daughter’s marriage to a young Englishman who had settled in the neighborhood. Both Christine and Alison enjoyed her gentle presence, and though she spent most of her time at the bedside of her son, they appreciated such half hours as she found time to give them. She was joined often by her daughter, Laura, a pleasant girl, devoted to Alison and glad of an excuse to see her often. Louisa, feeling that she was in some measure responsible for Blythe’s plight, took it upon herself to supply the invalid with dainties, and not a day passed that she did not bear some covered dish to the little cabin. The “likely darky from Ferginny” now reigning in the kitchen, rather resented Louisa’s claims to being the best cook in the land, but allowed her full sway in the matter of preparing dishes for the invalid. The effort to hunt down Pike Smith proved unavailing, though an attempt was made to carry out Alison’s suggestions, and one day John beckoned to his younger sister and led her to a spot where they could be free from interruption. “Can you go with me for a ride?” he said. “We’ve unearthed the old Mexican woman, Brigida, thanks to Pedro.” “Good! And have you learned anything from her?” asked Alison, eagerly. “Not yet. She professes ignorance on all subjects connected with Pike Smith. That’s why I want you to go with me to interview her. One thing we have learned, though not from her, and that is her son has been concerned in some horse thieving, and we believe he belongs to the gang of which Pike was the leader.” “That is a good point to know.” “We think so, too, and though we have no proofs it will be as well to use our suspicions as facts.”