But the next Sunday, as Bud lay reading in his tent, the mystery solved itself. Cruz Mendez came up from the house, hat in hand and an apologetic smile on his face, and after the customary roundabout remarks he asked the boss as a favor if he would lend him the page of comic pictures. "_Seguro!_" assented Bud, rolling over and fumbling for the funny sheet; then, failing to find it instantly, he inquired: "What do you want it for?" "Ah, to show to my boy!" explained El Tuerto, his one eye lighting up with pride. "Who--Pancho?" "Ah, no, _señor_," answered Mendez simply, "my boy in La Fortuna, the one you have not seen." Bud stopped fumbling for the paper and sat up suddenly. Here was a new light on their faithful servitor, and one that might easily take away from his value as a dummy locator. "Oh!" he said, and then: "How many children have you, Cruz?" Cruz smiled deprecatingly, as parents will, and turned away. "By which woman?" he inquired, and Bud became suddenly very calm, fearing the worst. For if Cruz was not legally married to Maria, he could not transfer the mining claim. "By all of them," he said quietly. "Five in all," returned Cruz--"three by Maria, as you know--two by my first woman--and one other. I do not count him." "Well, you one-eyed old reprobate!" muttered Bud in his throat, but he passed it off and returned smiling to the charge. "Where does your boy live now?" he asked with flattering solicitude, the better to make him talk, "and is he old enough to understand the pictures?" "Ah, yes!" beamed Mendez, "he is twelve years old. He lives with his mother now--and my little daughter, too. Their _mama_ is the woman of the _mayordomo_ of the Señor Aragon--a bad man, very ugly--she is not married to _him_." "But with you--" suggested Bud, regarding him with a steely stare. "Only by the judge!" explained Mendez virtuously. "It was a love-match and the priest did not come--so we were married by the judge. Then this bad _mayordomo_ stole her away from me--the pig--and I married Maria instead. Maria is a good woman and I married her before the priest--but I love my other children too, even though they are not lawful." "So you married your first wife before the judge," observed Bud cynically, "and this one before the priest. But how could you do that, unless you had been divorced?" "Ah, _señor_," protested Mendez, holding out his hands, "you do not understand. It is only the church that can really marry--the judge does it only for the money. Maria is my true wife--and we have three nice children--but as I am going through La Fortuna I should like to show the picture paper to my boy." Bud regarded him in meditative silence, then he rose up and began a determined search for the funny sheet. "All right," he said, handing it over, "and here is a _panoche_ of sugar for your little girl--the one in La Fortuna. It is nothing," he added, as Mendez began his thanks.