"You've been here before?"
"Yes, ten or a dozen years ago. Rode from Yerba Buena to San José along a road which I trust must be near here, though I couldn't find it to-day. Went from San José back to San Francisco harbor along the eastern side of the valley. Remember, Hamilton, what your name is for the present?"
"Certainly, I'm plain Smith."
"And I'm plain Jones."
They followed the man who was leading the horse. In the open they could see him easily. In the dense growths they followed by the sound. Captain Hamilton was becoming greatly fatigued when a number of well-lighted buildings came into view. Dogs barked and Indian men and women talked excitedly as the party approached.
A courtyard gate opened wide to receive them.
"Behold the bandits' cave, Smith!" said the Commodore.
"I see it, Jones," replied the injured man. "I declare, it looks good to me. Will the head bandit demand that we prove our identity, or something like that?"
"I forgot to tell you that the owner of the premises is away at present. The man who brought us here is major-domo, which might be translated, overseer. I fancy he is altogether in charge and will make us as comfortable as we could wish."
The major-domo gave his horse to a peon, then waved his hand to the front door of the house. "Gentlemen, it is as I said before. What you see is yours. Enter your own."