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 "Yes, I am the master of the mine," answered Charles Gould.

The man cantered for a time in silence, then said: "I have a brother, a sereno in your service in the San Tomé Valley. You have proved yourself a just man. There had been no wrong done to any one since you called upon the people to work in the mountains. My brother says that no official of the government, no oppressor of the Campo, had been seen on your side of the stream. Your own officials do not oppress the people in the gorge. Doubtless they are afraid of your severity. You are a just man and a powerful one," he added.

He spoke in an abrupt, independent tone, but evidently he was communicative with a purpose. He told Charles Gould that he had been a ranchero in one of the lower valleys far south, a neighbor of Hernandez in the old days and godfather to his eldest boy; one of those who joined him in his resistance to the recruiting raid which was the beginning of all their misfortunes. It was he that, when his compadre had been carried off, had buried his wife and children, murdered by the soldiers.

"Si, señor," he muttered hoarsely, "I and two or three others, the lucky ones left at liberty, buried them all in one grave near the ashes of their ranch, under the tree that had shaded its roof."

It was to him, too, that Hernandez came after he had deserted, three years afterwards. He had still his uniform on, with the sergeant's stripes on the sleeve and the blood of his colonel upon his hands and breast. Three troopers followed him of those who had started