“I have no doubt you did quite right, though I don’t understand it,” said Mrs. Hale languidly; “but I trust these gentlemen will stay to luncheon, and in the meantime excuse us for running away, as we are short of servants, and Manuel seems to have followed the example of the head of the house and left us, in pursuit of somebody or something.”

When the three women had gained the vantage-ground of the drawing-room, Kate said, earnestly, “As it’s all right, hadn’t we better tell him now?”

“Decidedly not, child,” said Mrs. Scott, imperatively.  “Do you suppose they are in a hurry to tell us their whole story?  Who are those Hennicker people? and they were there a week ago!”

“And did you notice John’s hat when he came in, and the vulgar familiarity of calling him ’Judge’?” said Mrs. Hale.

“Well, certainly anything like the familiarity of this man Clinch I never saw,” said Kate.  “Contrast his manner with Mr. Falkner’s.”

At luncheon the three suffering martyrs finally succeeded in reducing Hale and his two friends to an attitude of vague apology.  But their triumph was short-lived.  At the end of the meal they were startled by the trampling of hoofs without, followed by loud knocking.  In another moment the door was opened, and Mr. Stanner strode into the room.  Hale rose with a look of indignation.

“I thought, as Mr. Stanner understood that I had no desire for his company elsewhere, he would hardly venture to intrude upon me in my house, and certainly not after—­”

“Ef you’re alluding to the Vigilantes shakin’ you and Zeenie up at Hennicker’s, you can’t make me responsible for that.  I’m here now on business—­you understand—­reg’lar business.  Ef you want to see the papers yer ken.  I suppose you know what a warrant is?”

“I know what you are,” said Hale hotly; “and if you don’t leave my house—­”

“Steady, boys,” interrupted Stanner, as his five henchmen filed into the hall.  “There’s no backin’ down here, Colonel Clinch, unless you and Hale kalkilate to back down the State of Californy!  The matter stands like this.  There’s a half-breed Mexican, called Manuel, arrested over at the Summit, who swears he saw George Lee and Edward Falkner in this house the night after the robbery.  He says that they were makin’ themselves at home here, as if they were among friends, and considerin’ the kind of help we’ve had from Mr. John Hale, it looks ez if it might be true.”

“It’s an infamous lie!” said Hale.

“It may be true, John,” said Mrs. Scott, suddenly stepping in front of her pale-cheeked daughters.  “A wounded man was brought here out of the storm by his friend, who claimed the shelter of your roof.  As your mother I should have been unworthy to stay beneath it and have denied that shelter or withheld it until I knew his name and what he was.  He stayed here until he could be removed.  He left a letter for you.  It will probably tell you if he was the man this person is seeking.”