A dark look shaded O'Donnell's face as he spoke. "Perhaps you were rivals in those times," still persisted Mendoza, noticing the shadows. "Some wine in your glass, my friend? Well, war and love have made many an enemy." Again the neigh of the stallion was heard. "Drumlummon's second call. I must be going. Perhaps Captain Farquharson may call on you soon. Indeed, I'm sure he will; for I remember now that he has letters of introduction to you from Don Juan Domingo, first assistant to the secretary of state of Mexico." Señor Mendoza bowed courteously, as if some ordinary information had been given him. A sound of approaching voices reached their ears. "Papacito, our guests are arriving. I shall leave you." Carmelita approached from the rear of the room where she had been occupied with a book. The squeaking of carretas (wooden wagons) was now plainly heard, also the tramp of horses, the laughter of men, and the gay, bantering tones of women. Anon arose the angry cry of O'Donnell's stallion. "The guests are truly coming. Carmelita, my child, see that the servants neglect neither duty nor courtesy." To O'Donnell, who was standing ready to depart: "Señor, I'll attend you myself as you go forth." Soon the dressing rooms were filled with young girls, laughing and joyous. A dash of powder on the face, the hair smoother, laces adjusted, all under the watchful eye of mother or dueña. The young dandies in their rooms were scarcely less fastidious than their sweethearts and sisters. At a quarter before six the company was assembled in the reception hall. Jokes and sallies went around the room. Carmelita noticed that her father was not present and sent a peon to call him. The servant returned with the word that the señor and the gringo stranger were in the outer office. He did not dare disturb them. Five minutes passed. Merriment grew louder. Some one saw on a secretary a chart giving the places of the guests at table. The merrymakers crowded around. The doña slipped away and no one noticed. Her father and O'Donnell were standing just outside the courtyard gate. Two or three peons were holding O'Donnell's horse which was restive, pawing and biting at them. The two men spoke English and thus freely, as none of the peons understood that tongue. "Men are playing to-day and an empire makes the stake," O'Donnell said. "Farquharson is sitting in the game, and, by faith! so am I." Mendoza nodded. "And, Administrator Mendoza, so are you--and the chief player! Did not your recent visit to Mexico acquaint you with the trump card?" Mendoza smiled pleasantly. The stallion came closer to them, dragging the peons with him. He seized the shirt of one of them and tore it from his back. "Quiet, Drumlummon!" Then to the servants, "Unloose him." The huge animal came fawning to his side. Without touching hand to the horse O'Donnell vaulted the saddle. "A moment, O'Donnell." The man leaned in his saddle.