"Very well!" replied Bud. "He has already promised that to me; so come on and let him out." "To you?" repeated Manuel del Rey with a faint smile. "Then, perhaps--" "Perhaps nothing!" broke in Hooker shortly. "Come on!" He led the way impatiently while the captain, his saber clanking, strode out and rode beside him. He was not a big man, this swashing captain of the rural police, but he was master, nevertheless, of a great district, from Fortuna to the line, with a reputation for quick work in the pursuance of his duty as well as in the primrose ways of love. In the insurrections and raidings of the previous summer he had given the _coup de grâce_ with his revolver to more than one embryo bandit, and in his love-affairs he had shown that he could be equally summary. The elegant Feliz Luna, who for a time had lingered near the charming Gracia, had finally found himself up against a pair of pistols with the option of either fighting Captain del Rey or returning to his parents. The young man concluded to beat a retreat. For a like offense Philip De Lancey had been unceremoniously thrown into jail; and now the _capitan_ turned his attention to Bud Hooker, whose mind he had not yet fathomed. "Excuse me, _señor_," he said, after a brief silence, "but your words left me in doubt--whether to regard you as a friend or a rival." "What?" demanded Bud, whose knowledge of Spanish did not extend to the elegancies. "You said," explained the captain politely, "that your friend had promised you he would not trouble the lady further. Does that mean that you are interested in her yourself, or merely that you perceive the hopelessness of his suit and wish to protect him from a greater evil that may well befall him? For look you, _señor_, the girl is mine, and no man can come between us!" "Huh!" snorted Bud, who caught the last all right. Then he laughed shortly and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said gruffly, "but he will stay away, all right." "_Muy bien_," responded Del Rey carelessly and, dismounting at the jail, he threw open the door and stood aside for his rival to come out. "_Muchas gracias, Señor Capitan_," saluted Bud, as the door clanged to behind his pardner. But Phil still bristled with anger and defiance, and the captain perceived that there would be no thanks from him. "It is nothing," he replied, bowing politely, and something in the way he said it made De Lancey choke with rage. But there by the _cárcel_ door was not the place for picking quarrels. They went to the hotel, where Don Juan, all apologies for his apparent neglect--which he excused on the ground that De Lancey had been held _incomunicado_--placated them as best he could and hurried on to the news.