"Thees Meeldred，"he said in soft tones，"you hate.""No，no！I do not hate her now.I love Meeldred.""So！"he said，drawing in his breath and regarding the girlwith surprise."You tell me once she is witch—woman.""I am wrong，"declared Inez earnestly."She is good.She have been poor an'friendless，all because of her father，the noble smuggler Leighton.But see，Miguel；I have been all night shut up in the wall with her.We talk，an'I learn to know her better.I do not hate Meeldred any more—I love her！""Sit down，"said the old man，pointing to a hillock beside a tree.Inez obeyed，and he squatted on the ground facing her and coolly rolled another cigarette."Tell me more about thees girl—Leighton's girl，"he said.
Inez related Mildred's story as well as she was able，exaggerating such romantic details as appealed to her fancy，but showing unbounded sympathy for her new friend.The aged ranchero listened intently，nodding his white head now and then to show his interest.When the girl had ？nished he smoked for a time in silence.
"What Meeldred do now？"he inquired.
"They will hunt in the wall，to—morrow，to ？nd the lace，"she replied."Meest Weldon say for you to come to the house at nine o'clock，in morning，to help them.""Meest Weld say that？""Yes.But we have search already—Meeldred an'me—an'Meest Bul—Run have search，an'no lace is there.I am sure of that.I am sure no money is there，too.So Meeldredmus'stay as nurse all her life an'help me take care of Mees Jane."Miguel pondered this.
"B'm'by Mees Jane grow up，"said he."What can Leighton's daughter do then？""How can I tell that？"answered Inez，shaking her head."Always poor people mus'work，Miguel.Is it not so？""Rich people mus'work，too，"continued the Mexican girl dreamily，as she embraced her drawn—up legs and rested her chin upon her knees."Was old Se？or Cristoval more happy than we，with all the money he loved ？No ！Meest Weldon works；Meest Hahn works；even Meest Bul—Run works—sometime.If one does not work，one is not happy，Miguel；an'if one mus'work，money makes not any difference.So，when Meeldred ？nd she is still poor，an'has no money an'nolaces，like she hope for，she will work jus'the same as ever，an'be happy.""I，too，work，"remarked the old man."I have alwayswork.""If you had much money，Miguel，you would still work.""Yes.""You would not care for money；not you.It would not do you any good.It would not change your life.""No."Again they sat in silence，as if re？ecting on this primitive philosophy.Finally Inez said：
"You remember Leighton，Miguel？"
"Yes.He was good man.He make much money for Se？or Cristoval an'for heemself.Sometime I see them count gold—ten pieces to Se？or Cristoval，ten pieces to Leighton—to divide even.Then Leighton will throw me a gold—piece an'say：'That for you，Miguel，because you are faithful an'true.'""An'Se？or Cristoval，did he throw the gold—piece toyou，also？""No.""What did you do with the gold Leighton give you，Miguel？"The old man shrugged his shoulders."Tobacco.Some wine.A game of card.""An'were you faithful an'true，as Leighton say？"He looked at her long and steadily."What you theenk about that，Inez？""When people talk about Miguel Zaloa，they always say he is good man.I hear Meest Weldon say：'Miguel is honest.I would trust Miguel with all I have.'""Meest Weld say that？""Yes.""Well？""I think you are sometime honest，sometime not；like I am myself，"replied the girl.
The old man rose and led the way back to the path.
"To be always honest is to be sometime foolish，"he muttered on the way."Tell Meest Weld I will be there，like he say，at nine o'clock."
