“Even so, _señor_,” replied the caballero, raising his head now, and getting slowly upon his feet, “and you owe me two pieces of gold. That was the wager, I believe, that you would be at San Diego de Alcalá before me.” “So it was, caballero, and here are the coins. Ill luck attended me, while good fortune attended you.” “Indeed?” “This neophyte who trots at my heels--the same who served us at the Santa Barbara presidio--had a brother who possessed a horse, and I purchased it, also a mule, and got the neophyte for guide. I was not more than four hours behind you, _señor_, in starting.” “But--in arriving----?” “Things came to pass, _señor_. At San Fernando I made the acquaintance of a fray who wined and dined me so well that I slept overlong, afterward telling me, while I cursed, that he had done it because he feared I would kill my horse with riding. Arriving at the pueblo of Reina de Los Angeles, I made my way quickly to the inn----” “Expecting to find me with my throat slit?” asked the caballero. “Um! By rare good fortune, for you, it appears you did not visit the inn. I was somewhat surprised to hear it. But I felt that my chagrin was appeased when I met a certain man named Gonzales, a jovial fellow who insisted in playing host to me, purchasing wine, and playing cards.” “And losing?” “I believe I was the more fortunate in the game. Afterward I felt sure this same Gonzales had been losing his wealth purposely, to delay me on my journey.” “Who can tell?” said the caballero. “I was well received at San Juan Capistrano--then came the storm. By the good saints, how it did rain!” “I can swear as to that, _señor_, having been out in all of it.” “I managed to reach San Luis Rey de Francia in time, and there the storm held me up again. These things, _señor_, delayed me so that I could not win my wager, but even these things would not have caused me to lose had you spent the night in the inn at Reina de Los Angeles.” “I can well imagine that.” “And now they tell me here at the mission that you are Captain Fly-by-Night, somewhat of a notorious personage.” “So they call me, _señor_.” “You perhaps heard them hail me as Rojerio Rocha? I have inherited a great rancho, it seems, and am to wed a fair _señorita_.” “Would it not be better, _señor_, to leave the lady out of our conversation?” the caballero asked. “Perhaps; there are weightier things to be discussed. It seems, dear Claudio, that your presence here displeases those of the mission. They tell me you made certain ill-timed boasts concerning a young lady and her fortune, and the lady mentions you went as far as to speak to her of love.” “Enough, _señor_! We are not discussing a lady here.” “Let us talk, then, of yourself, Captain Fly-by-Night. Do you take me for an imbecile? Do you not fear, playing both hands as you do? Do you not dread a day of reckoning? Can it be possible you do not observe that you are caught in a trap? But enough of that! It is your own affair.”