motion sounded from the distance, a commotion muffled by ’dobe wall. First came the voice of old Gabrielda, then the clatter of an over-turning pan, next the terror-stricken shrieks of Loretta. Presently, Padre Anzar appeared, his jaw set, his eyes shining with the look of duty done.
“She will be nicely scared this time,” he told Padre Alonzo. “She will match her busy peak with Tomasso’s claws, and she will remember hereafter to let my blossoms alone.”
“Perhaps,” began Padre Alonzo, deprecatingly, “perhaps’t were as well to take her out of temptation’s way, to–”
Padre Anzar raised his shoulders, strode over to knife and trowel and
