It is necessary, however, to single out one man as proving an exception to this sweeping assertion, although this particular person seemed no less devoted than the other men present. He was plainly an American and apparently a stranger to his countrymen as well as to the Mexicans. His hair was white and closely cropped, the eyebrows heavy and very black, the lips nervous and thin but denoting great determination, and the face was tanned to the colour of old leather, sufficiently so as to be noticeable even in a country where all faces were tanned, swarthy, and dark. One would have thought that this big, heavy, but extremely-active man whose clothes, notwithstanding the wear and tear of the road, were plainly cut on “’Frisco” patterns, was precisely the person calculated to make an impression upon a woman like Nina Micheltoreña; and, yet, oddly enough, he was the only man in the room whose attentions seemed distasteful to her. It could not be accounted for on the ground of his nationality, for she danced gladly with others of his race. Nor did it look like caprice on her part. On the contrary, there was an expression on her face that resembled something like fear when she refused to be cajoled into dancing with him. At length, finding her adamant, the man left the room. But as time went by and still Ramerrez kept aloof, Nina Micheltoreña’s excitement began to increase immeasureably. To such a woman the outlaw’s neglect could mean but one thing--another woman. And, finally, unable to control herself any longer, she made her way to where the woman with whom Ramerrez had been conversing was standing alone. “What has the Señor been saying to you?” she demanded, jealousy and ungovernable passion blazing forth from her eyes. “Nothing of interest to you,” replied the other with a shrug of her shoulders. “It’s a lie!” burst from Nina’s lips. “I heard him making love to you! I was standing near and heard every tone, every inflection of his voice! I saw how he looked at you!” And so crazed was she by jealousy that her face became distorted and almost ugly, if such a thing were possible, and her great eyes filled with hatred. The other woman laughed scornfully. “Make your man stay away from me then--if you can,” she retorted. At that the infuriated Nina drew a knife and cried: “Swear to me that you’ll not see him to-night, or--” The sentence was never finished. Quick as lightning Ramerrez stepped in and caught Nina’s upraised arm. For one instant her eyes flashed fire at him; another, and submissive to his will, she slipped the knife somewhere in the folds of her dress and the attention that she had succeeded in attracting was diverted elsewhere. Those who had rushed up expecting a tragedy returned, once more, to their dancing. “I have been looking for you, Nina,” he said, taking her to one side. “I want to speak with you.” Nina laughed airily, but only another woman would have been able to detect the danger lurking in that laugh.