The Mark of Zorro by JOHNSTON MCCULLEY Page B

the man.”
    â€œPray continue, señor ,” said Don Carlos, bending forward as if deeply interested.
    â€œI dismounted at the door of his building and walked inside. He had candles burning, and there were half a dozen fellows trading with him. I covered them with my pistol and drove them into a corner, and ordered this storekeeper before me. I frightened him thoroughly, and forced him to disgorge the money he had in a secret hiding place. And then I lashed him with a whip taken from his own wall, and told him why I had done it.”
    â€œExcellent!” Don Carlos cried.
    â€œThen I sprang on my horse and dashed away. At a native’s hut I made a placard, saying that I was a friend of the oppressed. Feeling particularly bold that evening, I galloped up to the door of the presidio, brushed aside the sentry—who took me for a courier—and pinned the placard to the door of the presidio with my knife. Just then the soldiers came rushing out. I fired over their heads, and while they were bewildered I rode away toward the hills.”
    â€œAnd escaped!” Don Carlos exclaimed.
    â€œI am here—that is your answer.”
    â€œAnd why is the governor so particularly bitter against you, señor?” Don Carlos asked. “There are other highwaymen to whom he gives not a thought.”
    â€œHa! I had a personal clash with his excellency. He was driving from San Francisco de Asis to Santa Barbara on official business, with an escort of soldiers about him. They stopped at a brook to refresh themselves, and the soldiers scattered while the governor spoke with his friends. I was hiding in the forest, and suddenly dashed out and at them.
    â€œInstantly I was at the open door of the coach. I presented my pistol at his head and ordered him to hand over his fat purse—which he did. Then I spurred through his soldiers, upsetting several as I did so—”
    â€œAnd escaped!” Don Carlos cried.
    â€œI am here!” assented Señor Zorro.
    The servant brought a tray of food and placed it before the highwayman, retreating as soon as possible, his eyes big with fear and his hands trembling, for many weird tales had been told of this same Señor Zorro and his brutality, none of which were true.
    â€œI am sure that you will pardon me,” Señor Zorro said, “when I ask you to sit at the far end of the room. As I take each bite, I must raise the bottom of my mask, for I have no wish to become known. I put the pistol before me on the table, so, to discourage treachery. And now, Don Carlos Pulido, I shall do justice to the meal you have furnished.”
    Don Carlos and his daughter sat where they had been directed, and the bandit ate with evident relish. Now and then he stopped to talk to them, and once he had Don Carlos send out for more wine, declaring it to be the best he had tasted for a year.
    Don Carlos was only too glad to oblige him. He was playing to gain time. He knew the horse the native rode, and judged that he had reached the presidio at Reina de Los Angeles before this, and that the soldiers were on their way. If he could hold this Señor Zorro until they arrived!
    â€œI am having some food prepared for you to carry with you, señor ,” he said. “You will pardon me while I get it? My daughter will entertain you.”
    Señor Zorro bowed, and Don Carlos hurried from the room. But Don Carlos had made a mistake in his eagerness. It was an unusual thing for a girl to be left alone in the company of a man in such fashion, especially with a man known to be an outlaw. Señor Zorro guessed at once that he was being delayed purposely. For, again, it was an unusual thing for a man like Don Carlos to go for the package of food himself when there were servants that could be called by a mere clapping of the hands. Don Carlos, in fact, had gone into the other room to listen at a window for sounds of galloping horses.
    â€œSeñor!” Lolita