"I don't understand you," said Mrs. Tucker, drawing back with cold
dignity.

"You don't?" returned Mrs. Baxter. "Bless your innocent heart! Why was
he so keen to hunt me up at first, shadowing my friends and all that,
and why has he dropped it now he knows I'm here, if he didn't know where
Spencer was?"

"I can explain that," interrupted Mrs. Tucker, hastily, with a blush of
confusion. "That is--I--"

"Then mebbe you kin explain too," broke in Patterson with gloomy
significance, "why he has bought up most of Spencer's debts himself, and
perhaps you're satisfied it ISN'T to hold the whip hand of him and keep
him from coming back openly. Pr'aps you know why he's movin' heaven and
earth to make Don Jose Santierra sell the ranch, and why the Don don't
see it all."

"Don Jose sell Los Cuervos! Buy it, you mean?" said Mrs. Tucker. "I
offered to sell it to him."

Patterson arose from the chair, looked despairingly around him, passed
his hand sadly across his forehead, and said: "It's come! I knew it
would. It's the warning! It's suthing betwixt jim-jams and doddering
idjiocy. Here I'd hev been willin' to swear that Mrs. Baxter here told
me SHE had sold this yer ranch nearly two years ago to Don Jose, and now
you--"

"Stop!" said Mrs. Tucker, in a voice that chilled them.