"Think!" he burst forth savagely, aroused almost to a pitch of desperation by her irritating manner. "Do you take me for as big a fool as Don Felipe, or—" your father? he was about to add, but checked himself just in time. "When one has known Chiquita as long as I have, you don't think things about her, you know. Don Felipe," he went on, "reminds me of the naughty little boy who one day, while playing in a park, threw mud on a swan, imagining that he had besmirched the bird forever until it dived under the water and reappeared again as white as before. Why, even if I at this moment did not possess the absolute proof of her innocence, nobody could ever persuade me to believe that story. You don't know the Indian as I do, Miss Van Ashton. The high-caste Indian women are quite as incapable of such things as you are. It was a devilishly clever stroke on Don Felipe's part, I'll admit, but he has deceived himself as thoroughly as the rest of the world."
"What proof have you?" she asked with a surprised and mystified look, her woman's curiosity thoroughly aroused. Dick chuckled softly in reply.
"What are you laughing at?" she demanded, not a little nettled by his manner.
"I'm not laughing," he answered. "I'm merely trying to smother the rage you have aroused in me by dallying with me in this manner when you know perfectly well that I asked you to come here to tell you that I—"
"Stop!" she commanded authoritatively. "I wish to see that proof before anything further passes between us."
"Will you never become serious?" he asked, drawing an envelope from his pocket, the contents of which he had shown Captain Forest. "It's strange," he continued, "that this document should concern you as well as Don Felipe and Chiquita."
"What do you mean?" she asked in astonishment. Again he laughed softly by way of reply.
"It's funny you should get mixed up in their affairs!"
"I don't understand you," she interrupted, more mystified and irritated than ever. "Give me that letter, Mr. Yankton!" she demanded, holding out her hand.
"Then step out into the light, please, you lovely, tantalizing witch," he answered, drawing the papers from the envelope and handing them to her. "If I didn't love you to distraction, I wouldn't stand this sort of thing a minute longer. God!" he cried, glancing heavenward, "you'll be the death of me yet."