The latter read it, and approached the gate carelessly.
"Well, what do you want ?" "I am afraid you have the advantage of me in being able to transact business through bars," said Clarence, with slow but malevolent distinctness, "and as mine is important, I think you had better open the gate to me." The slight laugh that his speech had evoked from the bystanders was checked as the leader retorted angrily:-- "That's all very well; but how do I know that you're the man represented in that letter?
Pancho Robles may know you, but I don't." "That you can find out very easily," said Clarence.

"There is a man among your party who knows me,--Mr.Hooker.

Ask him." The man turned, with a quick mingling of surprise and suspicion, to the gloomy, imperturbable Hooker.

Clarence could not hear the reply of that young gentleman, but it was evidently not wanting in his usual dark, enigmatical exaggeration.

The man surlily opened the gate.
"All the same," he said, still glancing suspiciously at Hooker, "I don't see what HE'S got to do with you." "A great deal," said Clarence, entering the courtyard, and stepping into the veranda; "HE'S ONE OF MY TENANTS." "Your WHAT ?" said the man, with a coarse laugh of incredulity.
"My tenants," repeated Clarence, glancing around the courtyard carelessly.