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Show By FRANK H. SPEARMAN ip.rn WNU Serv( In his cups. Ho ordered the frantic girls torn from their mother's arms and carried to his ponies. Again he sought to kill Dona Juana, and again Monica, who could not be wrenched from her mistress, prevented pre-vented the murder, offering her own Uxe to appease the drunken rage of the captor. As the liquor worked on the savage sav-age his senses reeled increasingly, and as if glutted with bloodshed, he ordered the Dona stripped of her clothing ard driven from the house. In the interval the buildings had all been gutted, and, capering before the house, the drunken savage ar-rayed ar-rayed in Don Alfredo's hat ordered the ranch buddings burned. Fires wei e sot. Flames w. ere soon rising in evi ry direction. Drunken Indians danced about the flames and shot arrows into the burning houses; others, mounting, made ready to run off the horses from the corral. The chief, securing the two fainting girls on a spare pony headed head-ed for the mountains, hardly looked back at the complete ruin of what, wont. Only a few minutes had passed when she saw a youth riding up toward the rancho. She sprang to her feet. She knew the figure, screamed, and, as the lad turned toward her, waved her arms frantically. fran-tically. It was young Alfredo, the pet of the Rancho Los Alamos, tail and fine for his twelve year son and heir of his father. "Alfredo," she cried, "come quick! I am Monica! Quick, quick!" He ran to her. As he stared, dismayed dis-mayed at the sight of his unconscious uncon-scious mother, Monica clasped him in her arms. Hardly had the word "Indians!" passed her lips when, flinging down his gun, he threw himself him-self on the breast of his mother, raining kisses on her closed eyes and calling to her passionately to speak. Monica, kneeling beside him, told the boy in broken sentences of the fearful tragedy of the brief hour after he had left the rancho to hunt quail in the near-by foothills. She cut short Alfredo's frantic grief. "Now," she exclaimed, "you must be a man, Alfredo! As fast as you can, run to the presidio for help. Send the soldiers! Quick! Quick!" "But my sisters? Tell me!" "Gone, Alfredo! The Indians have stolen them. The soldiers! The soldiers! sol-diers! Make haste! Help me save your mother." , CHAPTER II CHAPTER 1 of the rancho could not re happily chosen. For Escape lay like ,a park :! rolling hi"s and wide-I wide-I valleys- The soil was car- nutritious grasses for ,1s herds, and nature pro-..spring pro-..spring and summer an un-lesion un-lesion of wild flowers that Abroad fields into a riot of d gold, imperial in beauty. '". this inviting prospect :Ued foothills, like the '.picture, dignified in the j'by the heights of the ma-orras. ma-orras. .nch house had been built on 'lion that commanded a view ,ie 0cean and the hill coun- AUredo had developed the "i built the ranch house to This Spanish bride, now aa, the mother of his chit a little girls of six and eight -a one older brother. Dona ad brought from Spain jeand traditions of Spanish ,s and at the presidio in ;o, in the gatherings at the V when a more formal tested tes-ted for a bailie in town ana was notable among women fur gaiety and necessarily crude Califor-jedings, Califor-jedings, far from the state-eol state-eol Estramadura and Ma-3a Ma-3a Juana confessed to only .ig of uneasiness: that was ;r devoted Don Alfredo war whoop of the Sierra Indians riding at breakneck pace out of the hills. Naked or half-naked, they dashed helter-skelter down on the ranch house, yelling and beating their ponies. po-nies. Don Alfredo and the two va-queros va-queros were caught at the corral gate. Realizing their deadly peril they ran on foot toward the ranch house for muskets. They hoped that the marauders might stop first at the corral to run otf horses. But the Indians were after more than horses. Despite the speed of their pursuers pur-suers the frantic Spaniard and his fleet cowboys, each of them alrendy hit but not disabled, by murderous arrows, managed, breathless, to make the front door of the house. Don Alfredo sprang at the thun.b latch to throw open the door. He gave a loud cry. The door was barred from the inside. He raised his voice in a mighty shout, his companions com-panions joining in. With only seconds sec-onds left before the yelling horsemen horse-men should be upon them the three desperate men threw themselves with all their force against the barred door in vain. It had been the boast of the Rancho Los Alamos that no foe, however powerful, could break through that door. Only a moment of life was left to the distracted Don to wonder, amazed, at why his own door had been thus barred against him. The next moment he and his men lay on the porch, shot through and through with arrows. The foremost of their pursuers, snrincinp from The morning sun was high, but the padre in his brown woolen habit plodded steadily on, sustained by the thought that Rancho Los Alamos Ala-mos could now be only a little way ahead. There, he promised himself, he would find rest, a little refreshment refresh-ment and some pleasant conversation conversa-tion with Don Alfredo and his lovely wife, Dona Juana, before he continued contin-ued his southward journey with the patient Indian neophyte now trudging trudg-ing by his side. Hardly had the pleasurable thought crossed his mind when the neophyte halted and, cupping his left hand above his eyes, looked toward the hills beyond the river. Padre Vicente Pasqual paused. "What do you see, Diego?" "Smoke, Padre." "What smoke? I see none." Diego pointed. "Across the river. Toward Alamos. Smoke." "Your eyes are younger than mine, Diego. I see no smoke." White spirals of smoke were rising ris-ing lazily and swaying dreamily in the hot sunshine. "It is smoke," repeated the Indian solemnly. "There is no matanza, nothing to cause smoke at Los Alamos. But we shall soon be there. Lower your pack a moment and rest your shoulders." shoul-ders." "I am not weary, Padre. Let us go on." Curiosity was stronger than a sense of fatigue with the Indian. He quickened his pace. Smoke at Los Alamos Diego said no more, but he thought much. Just before the ranch buildings of Los Alamos were to come into view Diego stood still. "I am afraid. Padre," he said slowly, "we shall see the work of bad Indians at Los Alamos." "What do you mean, my son?" ponies, were already astride their victims, hacking their bodies with knives as they glutted their fury and grunted at each stab into the bodies of their dying victims. In less time than the telling, it was over. The brow-n tile of the portico was a shambles. The savages, sav-ages, frenzied with triumph, dragged the bodies from the door, and the chief, his hands dripping with the blood of Don Alfredo, pounded on the door and shouted in his Indian tongue. The door was promptly flung open. The savages, rushing into the house, ran to the bedrooms. There were four. The Indian houseboy, Yosco, who had barred the door to his master, mas-ter, opened it to the murderers and pointed with eager, cunning eyes to the room of Don Alfredo. Within the room there were more whites to be butchered. Don Alfredo's Alfre-do's wife, clasping in each arm a young daughter, was on her knees before a pitying statue of the Blessed Bless-ed Virgin, calling distractedly for protection. The chief dashed toward her. His hatchet was uplifted to cleave her skull when, shrieking aloud, Monica, the Indian maid, dashed through the crowding warriors war-riors and seized the chief's arm. He turned and struck her to the floor with his fist. Before he could turn again and bring his hatchet on the Dona's head Monica had sprung to her feet and grasping his enraged arm, pleaded for her mistress' life. He struck her off and turned again, with hatchet uplifted. But the two screaming little girls clasped their arms about their mother's head. The infuriated butcher tried to tear them away. They screamed the more and clung the closer to their mother. Monica once more threw herself upon the savage. The lust for killing momentarily passed. The beauty in the uplifted, terror-stricken terror-stricken faces of the girls gave him another thought. He thrust the panting pant-ing Monica away, ordered the mother moth-er of the girls bound and, with the savages who had crowded after him, ran from room to room, searching for more victims. Every corner of the premises was searched till the hidden guns and powder of the rancho were found, and these, with many grunts and yells, were taken out of doors for the chief. Wines and brandies were discovered. dis-covered. With bottles and demijohns demi-johns to their mouths the attackers poured fiery potions down their throats, grabbing the bottles from one another until they were staggering stag-gering around in every stage of drunkenness. The chief grew even more vicious an "unreasonable fear of - Indians, who at long in--sde forays on the ranchos aorses. ; only gradually that she e this fear. But the sun-d sun-d the peace of her imme-rroundings, imme-rroundings, the care she de-: de-: her children and the al-'ectionate al-'ectionate solicitude of her were powerful sedatives peace of mind. ins that the years of moth-;3ssed moth-;3ssed for Dona Juana. Her i was an alert mission In-r.ed In-r.ed Monica. Monica, like ress, was of an apprehen-perament; apprehen-perament; she had even idence in the Sierra Indians ;-.a Juana herself. !der of the two girls had ; be eight when her mother idy for a little house party, :o casero. On the day be-invitations be-invitations were sent out ager, Monica came to her i with disquieting news. ,a was seated in the patio e garden. The two children iering flowers. :er ran to her mother with bloom and a question. : this one, Madre mia?" Carmelita, is a Mariposa, ) -ul flower. I am glad you :t" i Teresa, the younger girl, -".g a rival for her sister's csica came running down t house. She ignored her i little girls, and spoke in to her mistress, .'aana started. "Where did r this? " she asked. ' Manuelo, the cook. You "'i, he has a boy, Yosco. lust that boy. Manuelo is -e has warned us before, ssco gets his news secretly Mgade mission Indian and lather." ; does Manuelo say the at-:ltake at-:ltake place?" ' not know but soon." Jaana left Monica with the and returned to the house. & Don Alfredo in his office, to carbine for a hunt V said his wife, "Monica an Indian outbreak is com-etoow, com-etoow, they always attack "Jf ranchos first Monica (should go in at once to the wedo, and stay till the a over." edo showed impatience. ; always bringing some story about an attack. , e !ame story a year ago, : "as no attack." .Wredo. But we learned toey were frightened ; bonfires Don Santiago Drunken Indians danced about. three hours before, had been the famed Rancho Los Alamos. Monica, her shriveled features streaming with grief, had crept down to the river after her mistress had bc?n stripped of her clothing. Hidden under her arm, she carrieJ a dress. Escaping the roaming eyes of the marauding savages, she worked her way stealthily down along the river, keeping under the shelving bank until the ranch house and Indians were out of sight. Leaving the river bed, she hurried through a field of barley that partly hid her from sight until she reached the trail to town and, turning into this, ran at top speed. It was along this trail that she knew she must look for her mistress. Monica had not far to seek for the unhappy Dona. She lay partly on her face in the hollow within which she had striven to hide her terrible plight. The devoted maid cried out as she ran to her, dropping to her knees and hugging the trembling body in her arms while she wet it with tears. She spoke to the hardly conscious woman. The Dona's wealth of golden hair swept over her shoulders down to her waist, as if in protest against the outrageous treatment inflicted on her and to protect pro-tect so far as it might her outraged out-raged sensibilities. Her half-closed eyes, as Monica turned her face upward and begged pathetically for a word of recognition, gave no answer an-swer to the weeping maid. The lips of her mistress did indeed move, but only in incoherent mutterings. With the superhuman strength of the Indian, Monica succeeded in getting the protection of the dress she carried car-ried on her mistress' quivering form and laid her tenderly back, staring with meaningless eyes into the cloudless sky. Monica herself, wild with despair began again to pray, her arms lifted toward heaven as was her mistress "Bad Indians." "Yes, but what?" They followed the trail through a field of wheat. "Look." Diego pointed. point-ed. The ruins of Rancho Los Alamos Ala-mos were in full view. Padre Pasqual stared in amazement and grief. His staff dropped from his grasp. His hands parted in horror. "Merciful God!" he cried in agony. ago-ny. "What has been here?" He fell on his knees, and, with face uplifted and eyes sightless, prayer poured from his trembling lips. It was some moments before he could compose himself. He held out a hand for Diego's help the padre's knees were old and, regaining his feet beside the silent Indian, took from his hand the crude staff. "We must hasten, Diego, hasten," he ex-claimed ex-claimed unsteadily. "Why do you hesitate why?" (TO BE COSTIM'ED) I'"' we noise he made." f am scoffed. "And are !( !avages we are to run ; who are scared by bon-;!we bon-;!we noise Don Santiago ; la Jua"a when he is half .''"nonsense. Juana; pay ijtl)10 theS 0ld Wives' m DAllred's assurance wife's forebodings at abandoned her plans Party. jg of the following I wT'Ca's fjrst aIa had !1 -the Indian woman i J mistress and Don Al- I ;st K Ulem t0 heed her- 1 Jji, , eyes she told them :a, surely attack. She J leave at once for "safety. Dona Juana affected by the , ' to her children that p5rC,amly consented SdS the threat" 1 T1 8 hurried ;-5it. a11 Preparations i f n,mad(' un Alfredo. I M qU'ros- 'it down to :?th.t ey Wore lsoing " ka'fhen they heard I 1 the a'r. t was the |