La Leyenda

The Mark of Zorro
by Johnston McCulley

One: Pedro, The Boaster
Two: On The Heels Of The Storm
Three: Senor Zorro Pays A Visit
Four: Swords Clash--And Pedro Explains
Five: A Ride In The Morning
Six: Diego Seeks A Bride
Seven: A Different Sort Of Man
Eight: Don Carlos Plays A Game
Nine: The Clash Of Blades
Ten: A Hint At Jealousy
Eleven: Three Suitors
Twelve: A VisitThirteen: Love Comes Swiftly
Fourteen: Captain Ramon Writes A Letter
Fifteen: At The Presidio
Sixteen: The Chase That Failed
Seventeen: Sergeant Gonzales Meets A Friend
Eighteen: Don Diego Returns
Nineteen: Captain Ramon Apologizes
Twenty: Don Diego Shows Interest
Twenty-One: The Whipping
Twenty-Two: Swift Punishment
Twenty-Three: More Punishment
Twenty-Four: At The Hacienda OfDon Alejandro
Twenty-Five: A League Is Formed
Twenty-Six: An Understanding
Twenty-Seven: Orders For Arrest
Twenty-Eight: The Outrage
Twenty-Nine: Don Pulido Feels Ill
Thirty: The Sign Of The Fox
Thirty-One: The Rescue
Thirty-Two: Close Quarters
Thirty-Three: Flight And Pursuit
Thirty-Four: The Blood Of The Pulidos
Thirty-Five: The Clash Of Blades Again
Thirty-Six: AllAgainst Them
Thirty-Seven: The Fox At Bay
Thirty-Eight: The Man Unmasked
Thirty-Nine: "Meal Mush And Goat's Milk!"

Chapter One:
Pedro, The Boaster

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AGAIN THE SHEET of rain beat against the roof of red Spanish tile, and the wind shrieked like a soul in torment, and smoke puffed from the big fireplace as thesparks were showered over the hard dirt floor.

"Tis a night for evil deeds!" declared Sergeant Pedro Gonzales, stretching his great feet in their loose boots toward the roaring fire and grasping the hilt of his sword in one hand and a mug filled with thin wine in the other. "Devils howl in the wind, and demons are in the raindrops! Tis an evil night, indeed -- eh, senor?"

"It is!" The fatlandlord agreed hastily; and he made haste, also, to fill the wine mug again, for Sergeant Pedro Gonzales had a temper that was terrible when aroused, as it always was when wine was not forthcoming.

"An evil night," the big sergeant repeated, and drained the mug without stopping to draw breath, a feat that had attracted considerable attention in its time and had gained the sergeant a certainamount of notoriety up and down El Camino Real, as they called the highway that connected the missions in one long chain.

Gonzales sprawled closer to the fire and cared not that other men thus were robbed of some of its warmth. Sergeant Pedro Gonzales often had expressed his belief that a man should look out for his own comfort before considering others; and being of great size and strength, andhaving much skill with the blade, he found few who had the courage to declare that they believed otherwise.

Outside the wind shrieked, and the rain dashed against the ground in a solid sheet. It was a typical February storm for southern California. At the missions the frailes had cared for the stock and had closed the buildings for the night. At every great hacienda big fires were burning inthe houses. The timid natives kept to their little adobe huts, glad for shelter.

And here in the little pueblo of Reina de Los Angeles, where, in years to come, a great city would grow, the tavern on one side of the plaza housed for the time being men who would sprawl before the fire until the dawn rather than face the beating rain.

Sergeant Pedro Gonzales, by virtue of his rank and size,hogged the fireplace, and a corporal and three soldiers from the presidio sat at table a little in rear of him, drinking their thin wine and playing at cards. An Indian servant crouched on his heels in one corner, no neophyte who had accepted the religion of the frailes, but a gentile and renegade.

For this was in the day of the decadence of the missions, and there was little peace between...