“Do not be afraid,” said Alison soothingly. “Now, if Pike Smith threatened to expose your son in case you did not do his bidding, I can understand why you are not anxious to remember me. But, my good Brigida, if you are not willing to answer a few questions, which can do neither you nor your son harm, I am afraid it will be the worse for your son. My brother and his friends are very determined and they have discovered things which are not to the credit of those you are trying to shield. I happen to know who it was that was with Pike Smith when he came to our ranch last fall to steal our horses; it was the night that Cyrus Sparks was hurt, you may remember, and if I were to use that knowledge against your son it would go hard with him.” Alison jumped at her conclusions, but she saw that she was making an impression. “If I were to identify your son,” she went on, “and if my brother and his friends were to use the information they possess, I think you will be sorry that you did not answer the few harmless questions that I wish to ask you. Cannot you see that it would be much better if you were to tell me what I want to know and allow me to use my own discretion in repeating it? I promise to tell only so much as may be of benefit to us and will screen your son, so that his name shall not appear at all. You shall have this dollar, too. Pike Smith will never dare to show his face on this side the border, that you well know, and can do you no injury whatever you may say.” Brigida twisted her knotty old hands together helplessly. She had sworn not to tell anything that went on in the small hut, and what would the padre say if she confessed to having broken her vow? “But the padre will forgive you,” Alison went on. “If you show him that it was necessary for you to break your promise in order to shield your son, he will forgive you. “Which would be better, Brigida, to protect your son or that wicked man? The padre will understand and because you are a mother he will forgive you; otherwise think what will be the fate of your son.” Brigida groaned, but drew Alison further away from the blank adobe wall. “It is true, señorita,” she said; “there were more than one brought to that place, not any other woman but yourself, though there were men, yes, some to be buried in the woods, some to be sent out of the country. I remember one Americano who may perhaps be the young man you seek. It was a little more than a year ago. They had tried to get his horse, but the creature escaped and Pike Smith was much angered, for the horse was a fine one; he was very anxious to get it. I heard them say that the horse got away, for that it had as much sense as a human being.” Alison gave an eager exclamation. “Was it a coal black horse, young, and cleanly cut, with fine head and mettlesome spirit?”