"G'wan! You're crazy!" Branch slipped to the ground, seized the bundle in his arms, and bore it to the roadside. With shaking hands he tugged at the knotted corners of the comforter. "Pure imagination!" he muttered, testily. "There's nothing in here but bedclothes. I just grabbed an armful--" The last word ended in a yell. Leslie sprang into the air as if his exploring fingers had encountered a coiled serpent. "Oh, my God!" He poised as if upon the point of flight. "Johnnie! Look! It's ALIVE!" "What's alive? What is it?" With a sudden desperate courage Branch bent forward and spread out the bedding. There, exposed to the bulging eyes of the onlookers, was a very tiny, very brown baby. It was a young baby; it was quite naked. Its eyes, exposed to the sudden glare of the morning sun, closed tightly; one small hand all but lost itself in the wide, toothless cavity that served as a mouth. Its ten ridiculous toes curled and uncurled in a most amazing fashion. "Oh, my God!" Branch repeated, aghast. "It's just b-born! Its eyes aren't open." The Cubans, who had momentarily been stricken dumb with amazement, suddenly broke into voluble speech. The clamor served to attract Colonel Lopez, who was riding past. "What's the matter here?" he demanded, forcing his horse through the ring which had formed about El Demonio and his bundle. One startled look and the colonel flung himself out of his saddle. "Whose baby is that?" he demanded. "I--I--Why, it's mine. I mean, I--" Branch's eyes were glued upon the child in horrified fascination. He choked and stammered and waved his hands impotently. "Come, come! Speak up! What does this mean?" Lopez's voice grew stern. "She must have be-been asleep. I just grabbed--You know. I--" Branch's face became suddenly stricken. "Look out!" he shouted, hoarsely. "She's going to cry, or something." He was right; the baby showed every sign of a firm determination to voice her indignation at the outrage she had suffered. Her hand stole out of her mouth, her fists closed, her face puckered ominously. Lopez stooped, wrapped her in a sheet, then took her awkwardly in his arms. He bent a blazing glance upon the kidnapper, but he had no chance to speak before the storm of wailings broke. News of Leslie's exploit was spreading. Men were shouting and gesticulating to their comrades to come and see El Demonio's spoils. There was a great chattering and crowding and no little smothered laughter. Meanwhile, Colonel Lopez was using every desperate device to soothe the infant, but without success. At last he strode up to Leslie and extended his burden. "Here," he said, harshly, "she's yours. I surrender her." Leslie drew back. "No, you don't! I wouldn't touch her for a thousand dollars!" he cried. But Lopez was firm. He spoke in a tone of command: "Do as I tell you. Take her. A fine outrage, to steal a baby! What are we going to do with her? We can't send her back--the town is crazy. I've no doubt I shall hear from this."