the letter had miscarried; she must have sent word to Los Gatos,
and the stupid messenger had blundered; she had probably appointed
another meeting, or expected him to follow to San Francisco. "The
day before yesterday!" It was the morning's paper--she had been
gone scarcely two days--it was not too late yet to receive a
delayed message by post, by some forgetful hand--by--ah--the tree!

Of course it was in the tree, and he had not been there for a week!
Why had he not thought of it before? The fault was his, not hers.
Perhaps she had gone away, believing him faithless, or a country
boor.

"In the name of the Devil, will you keep me here till eternity!"

The blacksmith stared at him. Don Caesar suddenly remembered that
he was speaking, as he was thinking--in Spanish.

"Ten dollars, my friend, if you have done in five minutes!"

The man laughed. "That's good enough American," he said, beginning
to quicken his efforts. Don Caesar again took up the paper. There
was another paragraph that recalled his last interview with Mamie:--

"Mr. Harry Slinn, Jr., the editor of this paper, has just moved
into the pioneer house formerly occupied by Alvin Mulrady, Esq.,
which has already become historic in the annals of the county. Mr.
Slinn brings with him his father--H. J. Slinn, Esq.,--and his two
sisters. Mr. Slinn, Sen., who has been suffering for many years
from complete paralysis, we understand is slowly improving; and it
is by the advice of his physicians that he has chosen the