ssed between us at the gate. But
when Esther thanked me for the Christmas remembrance I had brought her,
I felt that I would take a chance on her, win or lose. Assuring her that
I would make it a point to call on my return, I gave the black a free
rein and galloped out of sight.

I reached home late on Christmas eve. My two elder brothers, who also
followed cattle work, had arrived the day before, and the Quirk family
were once more united, for the first time in two years. Within an hour
after my arrival, I learned from my brothers that there was to be a
dance that night at a settlement about fifteen miles up the river.
They were going, and it required no urging on their part to insure the
presence of Quirk's three boys. Supper over, a fresh horse was furnished
me, and we set out for the dance, covering the distance in less than
two hours. I knew nearly every one in the settlement, and got a cordial
welcome. I played the fiddle, danced with my former sweethearts, and,
ere the sun rose in the morning, rode home in time for breakfast. During
that night's revelry, I contrasted my former girl friends on the
San Antonio with another maiden, a slip of the old Scotch stock,
transplanted and nurtured in the sunshine and soil of the San Miguel.
The comparison stood all tests applied, and in my secret heart I knew
who held the whip hand over the passions within me.

As I expected to return to Las Palomas for the New Year, my time was
limited to a four days' visit at home. But a great deal can be said in
four days; and at the end I was ready to saddle my black, bid my adieus,
and ride for the southwest. During my visit I was careful not to betray
that I had even a passing thought of a sweetheart, and what parents
would suspect that a rollicking, carefree young fellow of twenty
could have any serious intentions toward a girl? With brothers too
indifferent, and sisters too young, the secret was my own, though Wolf,
my mount, as he put mile after mile behind us, seemed conscious that his
mission to reach the San Miguel without loss of time was of more than
ordinary moment. And a better horse never carried knight in the days of
chivalry.

On reaching the McLeod ranch during the afternoon of the second day, I
found Esther expectant; but the welcome of her mother was of a frigid
order. Having a Scotch mother myself, I knew something of arbitrary
natures, and met Mrs. McLeod's coolness with a fund of talk and stories;
yet I could see