The girl knew that Tomaso was bent on some errand of great interest to her father. The two swift horses, prepared as they were, meant that the Indian would, if necessary, ride one to exhaustion, then use the other to complete his journey.
The night waned. Noises of early morning began to echo in the hills. The dance and merriment went on. Faint tracings of dawn came across the eastern horizon. The Mendoza ball was drawing to its close. Light came on wings of morning.
Peons brought carreta and horse. Señor Mendoza and his daughter stood at the courtyard gate to wish Godspeed to the departing guests. "Adios, Señor Mendoza! Adios, Señorita Mendoza!" was heard on every side.
Father and daughter watched neighbor and friend go their way.
Rapidly galloping horses were approaching from the direction of the eastern hills. Two horsemen were soon at the gate. One was Tomaso astride the big bay leader trembling from the ride. The other was O'Donnell on his stallion.
"Buenos días, Señor O'Donnell," greeted Mendoza.
O'Donnell returned, "Good morning," adding with rising reflection, "Well?"
"The Señor O'Donnell and I have pressing business, my daughter. Please excuse us, carita mia."
The señorita bowed.
The men went into Mendoza's private office.