"Ah! O'Donnell," from Señora Valentino. "Let us hear about it."
"I wondered why Yoscolo deserted the coast range whence he could have easily reached the high Sierras and safety," began Morando. "This Indian prisoner told me that Yoscolo abandoned the Sierras for fear of O'Donnell himself."
"For fear of O'Donnell!" Barcelo ejaculated in contempt. "That Indian was simply talking nonsense. I've seen this O'Donnell around here—some nondescript fellow. Besides, O'Donnell wasn't in the Sierras at all, but right along with you. Well, we'll all feel better when we've had some breakfast."
"What further did your informant say, Captain Morando?" Señora Valentino persisted.
"Yoscolo thought O'Donnell had gone to the far-western plains. The Americano is most influential there with high chiefs. So, our Yoscolo intended to raid the missions and haciendas, hold Spanish men and women for ransom and make his way with the proceeds to Northern Mexico, all before O'Donnell should return. He knew the Americano could overwhelm him with those plains natives, if he wished. But O'Donnell had not yet gone to the plains. Yoscolo only became aware of this after he began raiding. Accordingly, he left the neighborhood of danger, and was on his way along the coast to Mexico, for safety, when we overtook him at Los Gatos."
"Simply preposterous! Simply preposterous! what the Indian told you," puffed Barcelo. "Well, it was as good a way as any to pass a weary journey. But let's go to breakfast."
"Whither went O'Donnell after the action at Los Gatos?" still persisted Señora Valentino.
"After giving aid to the wounded in San José he rode to the house of Señor Mendoza."
Señor Barcelo appeared on the veranda.
"Crisostimo, will you kindly tell our amigos that breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes? Silvia and you, Crisostimo, help me show them rooms where they may prepare. Sister, love, have a care for your arm. Come, amigos, come."