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Maggie and Alvino had the ranch to themselves when the military party from the upper valley arrived, Mrs. Chadron and Nola having driven to Meander that morning. It had been their intention to return that evening, Maggie said. Mrs. Chadron had gone after chili peppers, and other things, but principally chili peppers.
Mulraid," and when simple amatory effusions to her daughter rhymed with "lovely maid," she promptly refused the original vowel. But she fondly clung to the Spanish courtesy which transformed her husband's baptismal name, and usually spoke of him in his absence as "Don Alvino."
"They'll pay for this trick every man, woman, and child of them'll bleed for what they've done to me tonight!" "Let Alvino go to the camp up the river where Mr. Chadron left the men, and tell them; they can do more than you." "You couldn't drive him alone out of sight of the lights in the house with fire. He'd come back with some kind of a lie before he'd went a mile.
Alvino came up, and took the lead in tracking, with the aptness for that trick that goes with primitive minds such as his. Even in the farthest glimmer of the light he could pick up the trail, and soon he led them to the willows where the ravisher's horse had been concealed. "One shoe was lost," said he, pointing, "left one, hind foot." Mrs.
She was lifting her foot to the stirrup, thinly dressed as she was, her head bare, the rifle in her hand, when Frances took her by the arm. "You can't go alone with Alvino, Mrs. Chadron." "I've got to go, I tell you let loose of me!" She shook off Frances' restraining hand and turned to her horse again. With her hand on the pommel of the saddle she stopped, and turned to Alvino.
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