Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1911)

140 THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE. Jack in hisvery best Spanish as their hands met in the exchange of pottery. Then, suddenly, Jose stood before them, glaring like an enraged animal at Jack, and crowding Rosa back toward her father. "Mother of God !" he hissed thru his set teeth. "You spik to my Senorita ! She no can marry Americano. She go to marry me. You go hell. Let be." There was an ominous glitter in the beady, black eyes, as he faced the tall American, but Jack was too much infatuated to be cautious. He eyed the angry Mexican superciliously, then, with a smile, turned and went back to the table where he had been seated. Santiago had not noticed the little scene. The lust of play and the desire for drink were strong upon him. He was oblivious of his daughter's presence until reminded by Jose. "Take the girl home," stormed the little vaquero in Spanish. "She makes herself the fool for the Americano. Thou shalt not have the gold if she become not my wife. Take her home, I say, take her home." If Santiago had not seen Jose's gold he might not have obeyed so peremptory a command. As it was, however, he grasped his luckless daughter by the wrist and led her forth without comment. He did not know exactly what Jose was talking about. He did not care much so long as his rage did not prompt him to retract his offer to pay gold for his bride. Jose, at the gambling table, watched Jack furtively. He saw him take the note, read it with evident pleasure and start toward the door, crowding the vase back into his pocket. The game ceased to be interesting to Jose. He was watching more intently a small scrap of paper which had fallen to the floor as Ralton passed out. Clink — clink — clink ! The money jingled a farewell as it fell upon the table only to be swept up a moment later by the clever hands of "Ten-spot Dick."' "Dios ! Enough !" exclaimed Jose, springing from his seat. "I play no more to-day." A moment later he left. There was a murderous look on his evil face and the scrap of paper on the floor had disappeared. Down the street he rushed, past the Teatro Juarez, with its superb Ionic pillars and bronze lamps, almost knocking over the early arrivals at the theater in his haste to brush by them. He muttered to himself. He clinched and unclinched his fists. What wonder was it that Padre Carmelo, passing by the great Palace of Legislature, paused in dismay at sight of one of his flock so apparently possessed of the devil. "Son, son," he murmured. "Restrain thy evil impulse, whatever it may be. How canst I, even with many prayers and penances, hope to save from hell's fires the soul of one so bent upon his own destruction?" Was there prophecy in the words? If so, Jose did not know it and the words of the priest fell unheeded. From the window of the adobe he saw Rosa welcome her lover from the States. He ground his teeth together with ill-suppressed fury. A revolver glittered in the early moonlight. There was a sudden flash, a report, a scream from Rosa, followed by the sound of footsteps running down the street without. "Never touched me !" exclaimed Jack, clutching at his torn sleeve. "Just let me catch the villain that fired that shot and I'll make short work of him." But the villain was nowhere in sight. In the next room Santiago had been awakened from his drunken slumbers. Rosa could hear him talking to himself, as she thought, and moving ponderously about. "Adios ! Adios ! Go queeck," she whispered. "What my father say? He kill me !" In spite of the words, the tone implied so little fear of her father, that Jack did not hesitate to obey her entreaty and disappeared none too soon. The next moment the door was