"Oh, Nan, you're hearing things," Laura perhaps was more impatient than any of the others, for she was intrigued with the idea of asking Adair to get on a mule again, and she wanted to talk about it.

"She isn't either." Bess heard the strains now. "I hear something too."

"Come--oh, look!" Nan was at a balcony window beckoning the others eagerly. They all cl.u.s.tered round her, and there in the moonlit courtyard below them Walter and his friends were serenading the girls.

When they all appeared, the music grew louder, stronger, and the boys harmonized their voices as they sang for the second time,

"Soft o'er the fountain, Ling'ring falls the southern moon; Far o'er the mountain, Breaks the day too soon!

In thy dark eyes' splendor, Where the warm light loves to dwell, Weary looks, yet tender, Speak their fond fare-well.

Nita! Juanita!--"

As they swung into the chorus, the girls, laughing but enjoying it all thoroughly, pulled flowers that they had picked that day from the garden from their dresses and threw them down. The chorus ended, and the girls clapped. The boys laughed up at them, and others in the courtyard who had been attracted by the music called for more.

It was all very gay and happy. The boys did sing an encore, and then as Alice and Adair came out on the veranda they broke off, and Walter went up the steps and introduced himself and his friends. The girls came down and they all had a merry evening together, talking over the million and one things that had been happening.

It was not until the afternoon of the next day, that Nan and Walter had a moment alone together. Then she told him the story of her missing ring.

"Then the cook didn't actually tell you that he took it?" Walter asked at the end.

"No, but he implied it," Nan answered, "and I'm as sure he did as I am certain that he is not to be blamed."

Walter couldn't restrain the smile that came at this. Nan always trusted people, always felt that there was good in everyone. This was one of the things that first attracted Walter to her. Somehow, she, unlike many others her own age, never found enjoyment in criticising others. She seemed to understand their faults and to be able to explain them sympathetically no matter what they were. Now, in talking of the man whom she felt sure had stolen her ring, she honestly believed that, in doing so, he had been influenced by conditions over which he had no control. She felt sorry for him, and didn't want to do him any injury.

This was one of the big reasons why she had pledged Walker Jamieson to secrecy.

"And what does Mr. MacKenzie think of all of this?" Walter asked just before Nan left him to dress for dinner.

"Oh, he doesn't know anything about it at all," Nan hastened to explain, "and I don't want you to say a thing. This is all a secret until--until--until--"

"Until what?" Walter looked at the young girl curiously, as she stopped midway in her sentence.

"Until it's solved," Nan smiled at her friend, and then refused to explain further.

"Nancy Sherwood," Walter spoke seriously now, "if you're not careful, you're going to get yourself all involved in a plot that might hurt you.

Come, be sensible for once. Either forget the ring entirely, or tell your cousin all that you know about it. Promise?"

Nan shook her head. She couldn't tell Walter that she and Walker had already made certain promises about the ring and the Chinaman's part in its disappearance. She couldn't tell him that the reporter sensed a big story and asked her to protect the details until he had arrived at a solution. She couldn't tell him, but she wanted to.

Now it was Grace who saved what otherwise might have been an embarra.s.sing situation. She came out into the corner of the patio where Nan and Walter were standing.

"Nan," she asked, "did you know that Walker Jamieson left the hacienda early this afternoon and that he took his bags with him?"

"Left the hacienda!" Nan exclaimed, "are you sure, Grace?"

"As sure as I am of anything," Grace replied, "and if you don't believe me you can either wait to see if he appears at dinner, or you can go in right now and ask Bess."

CHAPTER XXVII

WALKER DEPARTS

However, it was Bess who sought Nan out, and that before Grace had barely had time to finish divulging her bit of news.

"What did I tell you?" Bess greeted Nan as soon as she could find her.

"What do you mean?" Nan retorted.

"I mean that talk we had some time ago up in your room."

"What talk?" Nan pretended to have forgotten.

"You know as well as I," Bess responded impatiently. "I mean that talk about Walker and Alice. It was nice, but it's all over now."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Walker talked to your cousin sometime yesterday, that your cousin was simply furious, and that Walker Jamieson has left, never to return!"

"Oh, Bess, don't get romantic about it," Nan said abruptly. "Now get your breath and tell me actually what you know."

"I have," Bess insisted. "Walker wanted to marry Alice and Adair MacKenzie said 'no!' Walker left without saying goodby to anyone and n.o.body knows when he is going to return if at all. Alice has gone to her room, and everybody in the house is all broken up, except the old housekeeper. All she does is shake her head and say 'You just wait. This will all be all right in the end. Young people are too hasty.'

"Imagine that!" Bess ran on indignantly. "She says young people are too hasty, when all the trouble here is caused by Mr. MacKenzie and he certainly isn't young!"

"Elizabeth Harley, you be careful!" Nan warned her friend. "You don't know for sure whether what you are saying is true or not. You'll have everybody in trouble if you don't watch out."

"But Nan, I could just cry," Bess protested. "He is such a nice person and so is she. And now it's all spoiled."

"Hush, Bess," Nan spoke more softly now. Then she looked over at Walter as though begging him to leave them for a few moments which he did.

"Now, see here," she spoke sternly to Bess when he disappeared. "If there is anything at all in what you say, and I doubt it, there is nothing in the world to be gained by crying and talking and interfering."

"I'm not interfering!" Bess was indignant.

"Well, then talking about it," Nan corrected herself. "We can't do anything about it except sit around and wait. I don't believe that Walker has gone away for the reason you say he has at all, and if he has, he'll be back."

"Well, if he hasn't gone away for that reason, why has he gone at all?"

Bess demanded.

"You can't tell," Nan answered lamely. Why was it, she thought, that she was forever running into the secret that she had promised Walker she would keep. She had done the same thing ten minutes ago with Walter. Now she was doing it with her best friend. "You've just got to wait and find out," she added.

"Come on, Bess," she made a decided effort to change the subject, "let's go in and get the camera. I want to take some pictures of the boys.

Anyway we are neglecting them by staying out here like this."

"Neglecting them!" Bess exclaimed. "They've done nothing all day but sit around and loaf. They're a lazy bunch, and we all had such high hopes."

She let her sentence die away tragically.