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Show Dice of mm Destiny tota "THAT I LOVE YOU" Synopsis Senor Antonio de la Guerra, a fine old Spaniard living on his ancestral estate on the American side of the -Mexican border, bor-der, is informed by his American lawyer, Dempton, that there is a technical error in, his will. He thereupon signs a new will, without with-out reading it. "Los Americanos on the one hand. Mexicanos on the other," said the old Spaniard to himself. "Sangre de Dlos! I must take Teresita away from them." CHAPTER II Continued. 2 "Make me some pretty speeches, Senor Billy," she laughed softly. "They float up to me here through the moonlight moon-light like the perfume from red roses!" She had drawn her mantilla closely ohout her for no other reason in the world but to tantalize the man below her by hiding herself from him, and there was only her voice and the vague outline of her young body through the vines to tell him that she was there. But to her his face, uplifted in the moonlight, flushed and eager, was unhidden. un-hidden. "You are a flirt !" he cried, seeking to make his voice savage and angry, and succeeding admirably in filling it with adoration. "But no," she answered hira from the dusk about her. "That is to be cruel. And I I am so soft-hearted that to make one suffer would distress me." "If you roll your r's at me like that again," Stanway told her very positively, posi-tively, "I am going right in and tell the old gentleman that I am going to Snarry you !" She laughed gayly at his impetuous declaration. "It would be like a play," she said after a little as though she were thinking think-ing seriously of what he had said he would .do. "It would interest me to see. Papa grande would be very polite po-lite and would ask Senor Billy to have a glass of wine and a cigarita. "And then" the laughter welling up again in the eyes he could not see, trilling in the voice which dropped down to him "he would call Pedro and old Juan to take you outside and shoot you with their guns 1" "And you find that funny?" demanded demand-ed Stanway. "Is it. not? It is like the opera!" "You are dying for an operati ; scene?" His voice still rang with the eagerness within him, his hand was upon the vines which clambered about her- balcony.' "Let me climb up to you " "You must not !" she cried quickly. And then, seeing that he hesitated, she added lightly, again settling herself her-self comfortably upon her cushioned seat. "That would be only musical comedy. And I should have to go inside in-side and shut my window and ruu downstairs to papa grande. .. And Sh !" He could make out the gesture as she laid her fingers across her red lips, i.uum otrc LticiL 01117 iuiucu lunaiu lih; open window behind her. "Quien es?" she called carelessly. : , "Yo, Pedro," came Pedro's answering answer-ing voice. 'ISenpr Dempton has gone. The master says that in half an hour he will be glad to see the Senorita Teresa." "Bueno," she answered lightly. "I hear, Pedro." And then when she also heard Pedro's light tread on the stairway, stair-way, descending, she turned again toward the man below her. "I must go," she said softly. "Papa grande wishes me." "Kot for half an hour," he said quickly. "I heard that." "But," as though she were hesitating, hesitat-ing, "I should go now. It is very un-maidenly un-maidenly of me to be here with you. If I had known that you were coming I should certainly not have come out to look at my stars." "You are a little'humbug. Teresita," he laughed at her. "You did know that I would be here, and you were gliul of t, and you came out just to see me." "To see you?" And he could imagine imag-ine the arching of the brows above her great eyes. "And to tease me. But look here " "I am looking, senor. Mama mia, but you are handsome in the moonlight. moon-light. More so than by day !" "I did not come here tonight to make you pretty speeches," said Stanway Stan-way stubbornly after his way. "I came to tell you " "Yes?" expectantly. She clasped her hands and loaned a little farther out over him, allowing him a glimpse of her laughing face, of white arms and throat from which the mantilla was slipping. "That I love you "Oh !" She seemed to lose interest, but again her face was hidden. "And that I actually and positively mean what I say when I tell you that I am going to marry you." He could not see the flush which crept into her cheeks, nor the light in her eyes, but went on swiftly, unguardedly, unguard-edly, his voice almost stern with the emotion upon him : "The border is unsafe. Mexico is going to be torn to pieces this time before temporary truce comes again. Y'ou need someone to take care of you." "You forget papa grande," she reminded re-minded hiin gayly. "Y'ou seem to have a habit of forgetting him." "Your grandfather," he said in the same quiet tone, "is not the man to protect you now, for three very good reasons: He is too near the border and too rich to go unmolested by the rebel bands, who have already made more than one raid into American territory ter-ritory under cover of night. "And he is too Spanish. He was born in Spain his father kept him there until he was of age. He is a Spanish and not an American citizen." "How kind and thoughtful you are, Senor Stanway," she mocked him. "Do you find it necessary, every time you come across a young woman who needs protection, to marry her?" His mood did not soften with hers this time. In Billy Stanway's own words, "he meant business." "Your grandfather has already lost cattle to the raiders," he told her. "It is known all over this end of the state that he is his own banker that he always has a large amount of gold and silver in the house. "Some night he is going to be called upon for something more than just cows to feed the hungry rebels. And then" "Then I should be protected?" she murmured demurely. "I should be married to an American whose mighty nation is feared by the Mexicans? ! "I Must Go," She Said Softly. That is it, no? Bueno. Does Senor Stanway know my kinsman, Eduardo Ramon Torre? He is a Spaniard, of blue-blood old of Castle, senor. And he is a naturalized American citizen. "Is n d d young puppy !" snapped Stanway irritably. "With us," said Miss Teresa stiffly, "one does not swear in the presence of a lady. Nor does he insult her through her kinsmen." "I beg pardon honestly I do, Teresita," Tere-sita," Stanway hastened to say. "3ut you shouldn't mention the young reprobate's rep-robate's name if you don't want me to swear, and you know. it. Now I'm coming up " His hand was again among the vines seeking a hold somewhere and being mocked by the smooth adobe wall. Teresa de la Guerra, alarmed, was upon her feet protesting. And then : "Sh !" she called down to him. "It is papa grande. I heard him call. Another An-other time, Senor Billy. Some other night maybe tomorrow, who knows and I shall steal out for a little walk with you. I must go now. Buenas noches, Senor Billy." It was softly said, and there was the caress of the soft southern speech. "I am coming, too," he called up to her. And she knew that he meant what he said. "I shall come around to the patio and so to the front door. I am going to talk with your grandfather grand-father tonight, Teresa mine!" A laugh floated out and down to him. a rose fell, striking against his cheek, there was the glimmer and flutter flut-ter of a mantilla among the vines, and the girl had stepped back through the window, closing it behind her. She stood a moment, hesitant, her cheek a little pale. Then the thought that even now Stanway was on his way around the great house to the patio drove her in haste first to her mirror and the rearranging of her hair the rose viue had disturbed, then to a quick descent of the broad stairway ro tlie main floor. The utter stillness of the drawing room smote her as she entered. The candles were like shimmering ghosts. De la Guerra was not in the room. Immediately she was dimly conscious con-scious of an unreasonable sense of uneasiness, un-easiness, even before she had the vaguest reason for It. And then the reason asserted Itself. A chair lay overthrown, a little way from the chair a rug was crumpled and thrown back, the ink bottle which had been upon the table lay upon the floor. As her eyes saw, her brain understood. under-stood. And as she stared, before her voice had found its way to her lips, she heard a sharp knocking at the front door. She ran to it swiftly, threw It wide and whispered fearfully: "Senor Billy, I am frightened. Look !" He looked the way her pointing finger fin-ger went, a moment in frowning failure fail-ure to comprehend, then in sudden black anger. "You mean " he cried sharply. "Yes," she whispered, clinging to his arm. "A moment ago I heard him call out. I I was talking with you and did not heed, but there was anger in his voice. I came down and look, he is gone ! There was a struggle see the chair thrown down, the rug, the ink spilled there!" Stanway left her side, striding abruptly ab-ruptly to where the bottle lay. There was a dark smear on the carpet car-pet near it. He leaned over it, stooping, stoop-ing, seeing the candles reflected from the dark surface. And his face, too, was very white as he straightened up, drawing a deep breath between his teeth. He managed to stand between the girl and the dark smear. "Get Pedro," he commanded sharply. "Have him call the servants, the va-queros, va-queros, every man of them. Have them come armed." The girl turned' and ran swiftly through the great rooms, down the long hallway to do his bidding, a sharp fear clutching her heart. Stanway, when she had gone, stepped quickly across the room, snatched up a rug there and threw it down upon the carpet, car-pet, covering the dark spot near the bottle. Then he stood still, waiting. As he waited there came to him from the silence without a faint drumming drum-ming sound, the noise of horses' hoofs in a mad tattoo of flight through the night. "The rebels," he muttered angrily. "They are taking what is left of him back across the border." He ran to the window. The curtain there was torn. Moonlight and candle light showed him where wood and plaster were scratched as in a hurried hur-ried exit. Then Teresa had come back to him, her great eyes wide with alarm, and the servants were already trooping in, sleepy-eyed and mystified. CHAPTER III. Eduardo Ramon Torre. Their master was not here ; their young mistress' eyes were turned with intent eagerness upon the young, American owner of the Painted Rock ranch, and so the servants, each of them, turned to Stanway expectantly. Stanway waited in silence a moment until a new set of faces in the doorway, darker, sun-kissed, bearded faces, told him that the vaqueros had risen to Pedro's clamorous call. Then he spoke to them all, swiftly, with rising emphasis, calling upon them by name, addressing them in mixed Spanish and Engiish, taking the word which came first to him that they would grasp. "Gaucho," he called us a very tall, sinewy, Arab-looking man pushed his way through the cluttered door. "Tus vaqueros have work to do tonight. Are they all here todos?" "No, senor," he answered simply. "Los otros comin' muy queek." "Listen, then, while they come," ran on Stanway. "It is the Mexicans, I think, who have taken your master. There was the noise of caballos running run-ning back toward the border. They are not ten minutes ahead. How many? Quien sabe, Gaucho? Probably Prob-ably just a band of raiders, not many. How many men, with rifles, can you get to horse pronto?" Enter Eduardo Ramon Torre, who adds new complications com-plications to an alarming situation. (TO BE CONTINUED.) |
