Dave was nearly speechless with delight, and when the mistress of Las Palmas had gone up-stairs he felt inclined to pinch himself to see if he were dreaming.  He had pursued a fruitless quest during the past few days, and his resentment had grown as he became certain that Tad Lewis had sent him on a wild-goose chase; but the sight of Alaire miraculously restored his good spirits, and the prospect of a long, intimate ride in her company changed the whole trend of his thoughts.  His disappointment at not seeing her upon his visit to Las Palmas had only served to enhance his memories of their first meeting, and time, now, had deepened his interest tenfold.  Yes, she was “The Lone Star,” the estrella brillante of his empty sky.

When the supper-hour came he managed by carefully watching the dining-room to time his meal with Mrs. Austin’s.  He even ventured to hope that they might share the same table, but in this he was disappointed.  However, from where he sat he could see her profile and worship her to his heart’s content, and when she favored him with a smile and a nod he was happy.

All without his knowledge, Dave realized, this woman had secured an amazing hold over him.  He had thought a great deal about her, of course, but his thoughts had been idle, and it had required this second encounter to make him know the truth.  Now, however, there could be no doubt about his feelings; he was more than romantically interested, the mere sight of her had electrified him.  The discovery distressed him, and he very properly decided that the affair should end here, since it could lead to nothing except disappointment.

But who can govern a wayward fancy?  One moment Law promised himself to see no more of this married woman; the next he wondered how she would occupy the evening, and ventured to hope that he might have a chance to talk with her.

After supper, however, she was nowhere to be found.  When his first chagrin had passed he decided that this was exactly as it should be.  He didn’t like to see women make themselves conspicuous in hotels.

At the time of this story relations between the United States and the established government of Mexico were at such high tension that a hostility had sprung up between the troops fronting each other along the Rio Grande, and in consequence their officers no longer crossed the boundary, even when off duty.  It created a flurry of suppressed excitement, therefore, when Luis Longorio, the autocrat of the Potosista forces, boldly crossed the bridge, traversed the streets of Pueblo, and entered the Hamilton Hotel.

From his seat in the lobby Law heard the general inquire for Mrs. Austin, and then saw him ascend in the direction of the parlor.  What the devil could Longorio want with “The Lone Star” at such an hour? the Ranger asked himself.  Why should he presume to call upon her unless—­he was interested?  Mexican officers, in these parlous times, were not given to social courtesies, and Longorio’s reputation was sufficiently notorious to render his attentions a cause for gossip under any circumstances.