Carmen became more enraged.
"Why did you want to take Uncle Victor's property, then?" she asked
triumphantly.
"I don't know that it is your uncle's property."
"You--don't--know? Have you seen the application with Governor
Micheltorena's indorsement? Have you heard the witnesses?" she said
passionately.
"Signatures may be forged and witnesses lie," said Thatcher quietly.
"What is it you call 'forged'?"
Thatcher instantly recalled the fact that the Spanish language held no
synonym for "forgery." The act was apparently an invention of el Diablo
Americano. So he said, with a slight smile in his kindly eyes:
"Anybody wicked enough and dexterous enough can imitate another's
handwriting. When this is used to benefit fraud, we call it 'forgery.' I
beg your pardon,--Miss De Haro, Miss Carmen,--what is the matter?"
She had suddenly lapsed against a tree, quite helpless, nerveless, and
with staring eyes fixed on his. As yet an embryo woman, inexperienced
and ignorant, the sex's instinct was potential; she had in one plunge
fathomed all that his reason had been years groping for.
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