"Besides--you. Yes, yes," grumbled Pringle. "Might have been expected.
These women! Does the Foy-boy know?"

"He knows that Lisner wanted to marry me," said Stella. Neck and cheek
were crimson now; but it was characteristic that her level eyes met
Pringle's fearlessly. "But before that--he--he persecuted me, John.
Chris must not know. He would kill him. But I wanted you to know in
case anything happened to Chris. There is nothing they will stick at,
these men. Lisner is the vilest; he hates Chris worst of all." She was
in deep distress; there were tears in her eyes as she smiled at him.
"And I wish--oh, John Wesley, you don't know how I wish you were
staying here--dear old friend!"

"As a dear and highly valuable old friend," said Pringle sedately,
"let me point out how shrewd and sensible a plan it would be for you
and your Chris to go on a honeymoon at once--and never come back."

"I am beginning to think so. Up to last night I had only my fears to
go on."

"But now you know. We managed to make a joke of last night--but what
that push had in mind was plain murder. I would dearly like," said
John Wesley, "to visit Las Uvas--some dark night--in a Zeppelin."

* * * * *

At the corral gate the Major met them, with a face so troubled that
Stella cried out in alarm:

"Father! What is it? Chris?"