Ever since Jessica could remember, Antonio Bernal had been manager of the Sobrante ranch, and after the death of her father, a few months before, he became practically its master. Even Mrs. Trent deferred to his opinions more and more, and seemed to stand in awe of him, as did most others on the great estate. He was the only person there, save his own servant, Ferd, who did not treat the little girl with that adoring sort of reverence which had given her the love-name of "our Lady Jess." For some reason unknown to her he disliked her and showed this, so that she shrank from and feared him in return. As she emerged from the canyon upon the broad, sandy road which crossed the valley, she saw him loping toward her on the powerful black horse with which he made his daily rounds to inspect the many industries that Mr. Trent had established. Jessica could always tell by the way he rode what Antonio's mood might be, and it did not lessen her dread to see that his sombrero was well over his eyes and his shoulders hunched forward. "Something's put him out, but I can't help that. I must stop him and speak to him." So she placed herself in the middle of the road and shouted her familiar: "_Hola!_ Coo-ee! Coo-ee!" Any other ranchman would have paused and saluted his "lady," but the "senor" made as if he would ride her down, unseeing. Jessica did not flinch. That ready temper which she was always lamenting flamed at the insult, and she would not move a hair's breadth from his path. "Hola! Antonio Bernal! I must speak to you, and--see that?" Suddenly bending forward she waved something long and black under Nero's nose, who reared and settled on his haunches in a way to test a less experienced rider. "What do you mean, child----" began that irate gentleman, but pausing at sight of the object she held. "I think this a plume from Beppo's wing, don't you, Antonio?" He muttered something under his breath, and she went on, explaining: "I found it in the canyon, just after Ferd has gone up it. I knew it in a minute, for I was looking Beppo over yesterday, and I never saw such perfect feathers on any bird. How do you suppose it came there, and why?" "The fool! One of the very best. How dared he. But suppose I'll have to admit he stole it. I don't see how, though, for I did the work myself. Give it to me, senorita; I'll put it with the others." Somehow, when Antonio was sauve "our Lady Jess" liked him less than when he was sharp of speech. His native "senorita" jarred on her ear, though she blamed herself for her injustice, nor did she yield him the feather. "Not yet, please. I'm going to show it to mother. She'll be so delighted to know the plucking was a rich one; and if Ferd did steal this, or has others in his basket, of course you'll make him bring them back." "Of course," answered Antonio, though he frowned and searched her face with his black eyes as if to read all her suspicions.