The misty gray dome above him, which an invisible moon seemed to have quicksilvered over, alternately lightened and darkened with passing gusts of fine rain.  Nevertheless he could see the outline of the broad quadrangle of the house quite distinctly, except on the west side, where a fringe of writhing willows beat the brown adobe walls with their imploring arms at every gust.  Elsewhere nothing moved; the view was uninterrupted to where the shining, watery sky met the equally shining, watery plain.  He had already made a half circuit of the house, and was still noiselessly picking his way along the furrows, muffled with soaked and broken-down blades, and the velvety upspringing of the “volunteer” growth, when suddenly, not fifty yards before him, without sound or warning, a figure rode out of the grain upon the open crossroad, and deliberately halted with a listless, abstracted, waiting air.  Clarence instantly recognized one of his own vacqueros, an undersized half-breed, but he as instantly divined that he was only an outpost or confederate, stationed to give the alarm.  The same precaution had prevented each hearing the other, and the lesser height of the vacquero had rendered him indistinguishable as he preceded Clarence among the grain.  As the young man made no doubt that the real trespasser was nearer the casa, along the line of willows, he wheeled to intercept him without alarming his sentry.  Unfortunately, his horse answered the rope bridle clumsily, and splashed in striking out.  The watcher quickly raised his head, and Clarence knew that his only chance was now to suppress him.  Determined to do this at any hazard, with a threatening gesture he charged boldly down upon him.

But he had not crossed half the distance between them when the man uttered an appalling cry, so wild and despairing that it seemed to chill even the hot blood in Clarence’s veins, and dashed frenziedly down the cross-road into the interminable plain.  Before Clarence could determine if that cry was a signal or an involuntary outburst, it was followed instantly by the sound of frightened and struggling hoofs clattering against the wall of the casa, and a swaying of the shrubbery near the back gate of the patio.  Here was his real quarry!  Without hesitation he dug his heels into the flanks of his horse and rode furiously towards it.  As he approached, a long tremor seemed to pass through the shrubbery, with the retreating sound of horse hoofs.  The unseen trespasser had evidently taken the alarm and was fleeing, and Clarence dashed in pursuit.  Following the sound, for the shrubbery hid the fugitive from view, he passed the last wall of the casa; but it soon became evident that the unknown had the better horse.  The hoof-beats grew fainter and fainter, and at times appeared even to cease, until his own approach started them again, eventually to fade away in the distance.  In vain Clarence dug his heels into the flanks of his heavier steed, and regretted his own mustang; and when at last he reached the edge of the thicket he had lost both sight and sound of the fugitive.  The descent to the lower terrace lay before him empty and desolate.  The man had escaped!