"I beg your pardon, madam," he said. "It happens to be my business, though." Breakfast call sounded. At the first shrill note she started violently. She was very thoroughly unnerved, and he decided that an hour of thinking would make her worse so. He told her that he would see her after breakfast, and raising his hat again left her to the anticipation, and to helping the Mexican captives cook their meal of mescal root and rations. Later in the day, when the general and the interpreters were engaged in making clear to the bucks, who came straggling in to surrender, the wishes and intentions of the Great Father in Washington as regarded his refractory children in Arizona, he went back to the captives' tepee. The Texan was nowhere to be seen. He called to her and got no answer, then he looked in. She was not there. One of the Mexican women was standing by, and he went up to her and asked for the Gringa. The woman shrugged her round brown shoulders from which the rebozo had fallen quite away, and dropped her long lashes. "_No se_," she murmured. "_Ay que si!_ You do know," he laughed; "you tell me _chula_, or I will take you back to the United States with me." She laughed too, musically, with a bewitching gurgle, and gave him a swift glance, at once soft and sad. "_Ella es muy fea, no es simpatica, la Gringa._" Undoubtedly, as she said, the American was ugly and unattractive; but the Mexican was pretty and decidedly engaging. Cairness had been too nearly trapped once before to be lured now. He met the piece of brown femininity upon her own ground. "You are quite right, _querida mia_. She is ugly and old, and you are beautiful and young, and I will take you with me to the States and buy a pink dress with lovely green ribbons, if you will tell me where the old woman is." "_'Stá bajo_," she stuck out her cleft chin in the direction of the trail that led out of the pocket down to the flat, far below. "_De veras?_" asked Cairness, sharply. He was of no mind to lose her like this, when he was so near his end. "Truly," said the little thing, and nodded vehemently. He left her ignominiously, at a run. She stood laughing after him until he jumped over a rock and disappeared. "She is his sweetheart, the _vieja_," she chattered to her companions. Cairness called to four of his scouts as he ran. They joined him, and he told them to help him search. In half an hour they found her, cowering in a cranny of rocks and manzanita. He dismissed the Indians, and then spoke to her. "Now you sit on that stone there and listen to me," he said, and taking her by the shoulder put her down and stood over her. She kept her sullen glance on the ground, but she was shaking violently. "Your husband is in jail," he said without preface. He had done with the mask of civility. It had served its purpose. "No he ain't."