scarlet poppy and was bright with smiles. Three or four men in the
crowded bar-room rose to their feet and drank to her bright eyes and
strolled across to the bar.

"Soon now' "she whispered, "I shall sweep out the lights. Those two who
have just entered - who are they?" She went across the room to the
newcomers. "The senors may pay me for the drinks, if they desire," she
said to them, meaningly.

"La Rosita shall take what pleases her," one of them laughed. Among the
handful of coins and small nuggets he brought from his pocket was a
bullet strung on a bit of dirty twine.

"Ah! a love token, senor?"

"Yes, from the throat of Betsy Jane" (a term often used for a rifle).

"In twenty minutes, my friends, there will be opened a chute into
purgatory for all who are in this bar room. Your 'love token' names you
Senor Bell's men. Before then you will seek the rear of the room - eh?"

She drifted away from them to pause at a small table where sat a young
man alone.

"And you, pretty fellow, you are new in California?"

"Yes, I landed in San Francisco only ten days ago." He was new indeed,
or he would have realized the danger of telling his business to the
first person who asked.