far exceeded his wildest boyish vision of the preceding night. With that
recollection came another,--a more uneasy one. He remembered how that
vision had been interrupted by the strange voices in the road, and their
vague but ominous import to his host. A feeling of self-reproach came
over him. The threats had impressed him as only mere braggadocio,--he
knew the characteristic exaggeration of the race,--but perhaps he ought
to privately tell Peyton of the incident at once.

The opportunity came later, when the ladies had retired, and Peyton,
wrapped in a poncho in a rocking-chair, on the now chilly veranda,
looked up from his reverie and a cigar. Clarence casually introduced the
incident, as if only for the sake of describing the supernatural effect
of the hidden voices, but he was concerned to see that Peyton was
considerably disturbed by their more material import. After questioning
him as to the appearance of the two men, his host said: "I don't mind
telling you, Clarence, that as far as that fellow's intentions go he is
quite sincere, although his threats are only borrowed thunder. He is
a man whom I have just dismissed for carelessness and insolence,--two
things that run in double harness in this country,--but I should be more
afraid to find him at my back on a dark night, alone on the plains; than
to confront him in daylight, in the witness box, against me. He was
only repeating a silly rumor that the title to this rancho and the nine
square leagues beyond would be attacked by some speculators."

"But I thought your title was confirmed two years ago," said Clarence.

"The GRANT was confirmed," returned Peyton, "which means that the
conveyance of the Mexican government of these lands to the ancestor of
Victor Robles was held to be legally proven by the United States Land
Commission, and a patent issued to all those who held under it. I and my