A slender youth, lean-flanked and broad-shouldered, her visitor turned out to be. His outstretched hands went forward swiftly to meet hers.
"Juanita, light of my life?" he cried softly. "Corazon mia!"
She submitted with a little reluctant protest to his caress. "I have but a minute, Pablo. The señora wants to walk over to Dolan's place. I am to stay with the sick American."
He exploded with low, fierce energy. "A thousand curses take the gringo! Why should you nurse him? Is he not an enemy to the señorita—to all in the valley who have bought from her or her father or her grandfather? Is he not here to throw us out—a thief, a spy, a snake in the grass?"
"No, he is not. Señor Gordon is good ... and kind."
"Bah! You are but a girl. He gives you soft words—and so——" The jealousy in him flared suddenly out. He caught his sweetheart tightly by the arm. "Has he made love to you, this gringo? Has he whispered soft, false lies in your ear, Juanita? If he has——"
She tried to twist free from him. "You are hurting my arm, Pablo," the girl cried.
"It is my heart you hurt, niña. Is it true that this thief has stolen the love of my Juanita?"
"You are a fool, Pablo. He has never said a hundred words to me. All through his sickness he has talked and talked—but it is of Señorita Valdés that he has raved."
"So. He will rob her of all she has and yet can talk of loving her. Do you not see he is a villain, that he has the forked tongue, as old Bear Paw, the Navajo, says of all gringoes? But let Señor Gordon beware. His time is short. He will not live to drive us from the valley. So say I. So say all the men in the valley."