From the scattering order in which we rode, I was afforded a good opportunity for free conversation with Esther.  But the information I obtained was not very encouraging.  Her mother’s authority had grown so severe that existence under the same roof was a mere armistice between mother and daughter, while this day’s sport was likely to break the already strained relations.  The thought that her suffering was largely on my account, nerved me to resolution.

The kill was made late in the day, in a bend of the river, about fifteen miles above the Vaux ranch, forming a jungle of several thousand acres.  In this thickety covert the fugitive made his final stand, taking refuge in an immense old live-oak, the mossy festoons of which partially screened him from view.  The larger portion of the cavalcade remained in the open, but the rest of us, under the leadership of the two rancheros, forced our horses through the underbrush and reached the hounds.  The pack were as good as exhausted by the long run, and, lest the animal should spring out of the tree and escape, we circled it at a distance.  On catching a fair view of the quarry, Uncle Lance called for a carbine.  Two shots through the shoulders served to loosen the puma’s footing, when he came down by easy stages from limb to limb, spitting and hissing defiance into the upturned faces of the pack.  As he fell, we dashed in to beat off the dogs as a matter of precaution, but the bullets had done their work, and the pack mouthed the fallen feline with entire impunity.

Dan Happersett dragged the dead puma out with a rope over the neck for the inspection of the girls, while our horses, which had had no less than a fifty-mile ride, were unsaddled and allowed a roll and a half hour’s graze before starting back.  As we were watering our mounts, I caught my employer’s ear long enough to repeat what I had learned about Esther’s home difficulties.  After picketing our horses, we strolled away from the remainder of the party, when Uncle Lance remarked:  “Tom, your chance has come where you must play your hand and play it boldly.  I’ll keep Tony at the Vaux ranch, and if Esther has to go home to-night, why, of course, you’ll have to take her.  There’s your chance to run off and marry.  Now, Tom, you’ve never failed me yet; and this thing has gone far enough.  We’ll give old lady McLeod good cause to hate us from now on.  I’ve got some money with me, and I’ll rob the other boys, and to-night you make a spoon or spoil a horn.  Sabe?”

I understood and approved.  As we jogged along homeward, Esther and I fell to the rear, and I outlined my programme.  Nor did she protest when I suggested that to-night was the accepted time.  Before we reached the Vaux ranch every little detail was arranged.  There was a splendid moon, and after supper she plead the necessity of returning home.  Meanwhile every cent my friends possessed had been given me, and the two best horses of Las Palomas were under saddle for the start.  Uncle Lance was arranging a big hunt for the morrow with Tony Hunter and Don Pierre, when Esther took leave of her friends, only a few of whom were cognizant of our intended elopement.