“I guess, though, he’ll miss his occasional visits to La Siesta. Mr. Robles says you were quite right, Miss Merle. Dick is in real danger. Those gunmen of old Thurston have orders to shoot him on sight.” “I knew it,” exclaimed Merle. “Oh, I’m so thankful he got away. Even though we miss seeing him, he must never run such a risk again.” “It is all very mysterious,” said Munson, in a musing tone. “And I had no idea, too, that this was such a lovely place. Mr. Robles has taken me around several times. He has the choicest dairy cattle, the finest blooded horses, rare trees and plants from every corner of the world.” “These are his hobbies,” commented Merle. “He says he wants to give me some practical lessons in estate management.” “Why?” asked Grace. “Well,” laughed Munson, “he thinks I may some day own a rancho of my own. But that will be a mighty long time.” “Who can tell?” said Merle, glancing mischievously from the lieutenant to Grace. “Even in these humdrum days soldiers have been known to come in and conquer.” Grace blushed crimson. “Merle, how dare you?” she exclaimed, half angry, half laughing. “Next time we visit you, Mr. Munson, I’ll have to bring along Tia Teresa.” “Oh, dear Aunt Teresa has a soft side for the lieutenant,” retorted Merle, with merry audacity. But Grace had recovered from her momentary confusion. “Then I’ll help you all I can, Mr. Munson, with dear Aunt Teresa,” she laughingly said. “We’ll send her along tomorrow instead of coming ourselves.” “Heaven forbid!” murmured the lieutenant, with pious fervor. He, too, had been looking and feeling awkward. “So we’ll say goodbye for the present,” continued Grace, frankly extending her hand. “I hope I haven’t said anything to offend you,” stammered Munson. “It is perhaps what you haven’t said that is the cause of trouble,” laughed the irrepressible Merle. But Grace had fled from the room, and as the others followed, Merle went on: “I said when we left home that two would be company but three—a complication. Wasn’t I right, lieutenant?” “You are always right,” murmured Munson, too bewildered to think of anything else but the obvious gallant reply. He stood at the gateway watching the two young ladies as they cantered away. At the bend of the road Merle turned round in the saddle and waved her hand. But Grace rode steadily on. “By jove, that’s as good as telling me that I can sail in and win,” he said to himself. “Thank you, Merle, little girl. Next time Grace and I are alone, my fate will be sealed.” But no one called again during Mr. Robles’ absence—not even Tia Teresa. It was toward evening a few days later when the recluse strolled into the library. Munson did not know that he had returned, and rose from his seat in some surprise. “Still hard at work?” said Mr. Robles, as he nodded and shook hands. “When did you get back, sir?” “Last night. And today I have been busy with some important letters.” “Any word of Dick?”