“I faced the cur once--at Santa Barbara--and he disarmed me almost with a single pass. But I did not know him then! Let me face him now, when I know what he is! ’Tis a clever cur! He fooled a fray at San Fernando--the fray aided him and detained a traveller of merit. A good Governor’s man at Reina de Los Angeles sat up and watched while the scoundrel slept like a baby. Only at San Juan Capistrano and south did he meet rebuffs, and then not because any knew of his perfidy, but because he had seen fit to insult the name of some rancho girl----” “Ah!” the _comandante_ cried. “There will be promotion for me in this!” “Catch him first! You little know your man!” “Do I not? Did I not refuse him hospitality recently because of that same insult? Did I not almost cross blades with him within the past forty hours, and remembered barely in time that an officer does not fight with an adventurer?” “It perhaps were well for the officer you remembered that,” the sergeant muttered. “Bah! Captain Fly-by-Night, eh? A boaster and braggart!” “Think not that! He is a fighter, that man, as well as a scoundrel! And you have him here?” “He camps like a fool beside the creek at the mission, believing himself secure, no doubt, perhaps meeting his Indian gentiles and doing his plotting almost inside the mission walls.” “Get him! Do not let him escape and reach his Indians, or nothing can stop the attack. The dogs know their conspiracy is discovered, and may move sooner than was expected. Those in the north wait for the attack to begin here at San Diego de Alcalá. Runners will carry the news, and the raid will flash up the coast like fire before a gale!” “It will be an easy matter to get him,” the lieutenant observed, getting up from his stool. The beating of horse’s hoofs came to them through the open window; they heard the sentry’s challenge and quick steps in the barracks-room, a knock at the door. “Enter!” the _comandante_ called, and a corporal hurried into the room. “There has been trouble at the mission,” he reported, standing at salute. “Rojerio Rocha, who is to wed the Señorita Anita, rebuked this Captain Fly-by-Night for his conduct, and they fought.” “The result?” “Señor Rocha was wounded. The neophytes attacked Captain Fly-by-Night then, but he mounted his horse and escaped. He has gone up the cañon. Rocha demands that he be pursued; some others think this should not be, since it was a fair duel.” “Escaped!” Sergeant Cassara cried, getting half up from the stool. “He will be with his Indians within the hour--perhaps he has been warned. He’ll strike the blow earlier!” But the lieutenant was already rushing toward the door. “Sound the trumpet!” he cried. “Into the hills after that man! Get him, dead or alive--remember that! Let only two men remain here at the presidio. I have kept my hands off the dog because I had no orders to the contrary--but I have orders now! Here--one of you give aid to this exhausted sergeant who brought the news!”