"It was not alone the Indians," stated Doña Teresa, with sudden insight. "Men would not think to tie him with girl's hair. No, it was the wife."
Alvara looked at her warningly over his glass.
"If there are such wives in Mexico, we hope they stay there," he said. "Our own Indians make trouble enough for the padre and the alcalde. The kind you tell of are best left with their tribes in the hills."
For a little longer they talked of the new horses needed for the frontier warfare, and touched upon the chance of the Capitan's stealing them before they got across the divide.
"But there is no danger even of El Capitan now, when the Señor Don Bryton have put himself to help guard," remarked Teresa, eyeing him with a cat-like glance to discover if her sarcasm was appreciated. "We all feel very safe now in San Juan valley."
"With those brilliant army officers in town, you certainly should," he remarked, easily. "The women have always been the Capitan's best friends, and the officers are cutting him out!"
"He see too much—and he talk too much," said Teresa, as Bryton left them and walked leisurely down the road toward the inn and post-office.
"He means no harm," remarked Alvara. "The ways of the Americano are not our ways, but I like him better than the army men. He makes no scandals."
"If the army men make love to the girls, they keep quiet about it," returned Teresa. "But this man—he thinks himself too good for the 'brown girls' he talks of. Men who are too good should go to stay in the church and pray for the sinners!"
Alvara knew that no remark of Bryton's had been meant to reflect in the least on social conditions in San Juan. But what use to argue with an angry, jealous woman hunting for a grievance?