The Fruits of Good and Evil

818 IMPROVEMENT ERA a lifetime. As he shed his Spanish cloak and stepped out on to the floor in his costume of a Mexican dandy, velvet-trimmed with silver bullion, Dolores found it hard to believe that this slim, handsome figure was the far famed "Wildcat," Lopez, — the terror of the border, hero of cattle forays and shooting scrapes. A revolutionary; Colonel, on the Mexican side of the line; common bandit, they called him on the American frontier. Although it had not been proved, people connected him with the holdup of the Sunset Limited, when he courteously returned their jewelry to all the lady passengers; al^o with the robbery of the stage coach, when he became so enraged at the) lack of booty that he stripped the passengers of all their clothing and left them to proceed on in. their embarrassed way to the Barranca Inn. Skeptics, however, could not see how he could be so full of gallantry in one case and so lacking in it in the other. On the night that he met Dolores, Lopez rushed her for waltzes, and when she danced with others, watched her moodily from the doorway. When he left, there had been a pressure of the hand and a hurried word in her ear. That was all. Big Blair let it be understood that the "Wildcat" was not welcome at his ranch, but that did not prevent Lopez from smuggling Spanish dagger flowers, New York chocolates, pearl earrings, and Spanish lace shawls to the daughter of the house. He even arranged to send a white horse, but Dolores refused it in a panic as a too conspicuous gift. Now a note had come by messenger begging Dolores to meet him down by the willows. He had something of the utmost importance to say to her. He would have come honorably to the hacienda, had her father permitted it. As it was he was leaving for Mexico to take command of his regiment. Perhaps he would never return. He must see her before he left. For two days Dolores had feared and trembled. A dozen times she decided not to go. Again a wave of tenderness swept over her. Perhaps her lover went to his death, for there was a new revolution in Mexico. What did he want to tell her? So torn with curiosity, she dressed and crept out. As she skirted the irrigation ditch for the protection of the bushes, she looked back at the ranch house, a pale gray pile in the darkness. What if she never saw it again! What if Lopez caught her up on his black horse, El Diablo, and carried her off like a Russian Cossack claims his bride? In the distance a coyote howled. She pulled her scarf around her closer. As she neared the clump of willows that surrounded the pool her heart beat fast. But no Mexican lurked within the shadows. She was more startled than if he had come upon her unawares. Alarmed, she darted in aud out among the shrubbery. She strained her ears for the clamp of his horse. There was no