ates they got down, followed by the sympathetic glances of the
others.

To all appearance their escapade, albeit fraught with dangerous
possibilities, had happily ended. But in the economy of human affairs,
as in nature, forces are not suddenly let loose without more or less
sympathetic disturbance which is apt to linger after the impelling
cause is harmlessly spent. The fright which the girls had unsuccessfully
attempted to produce in the heart of their escort had passed him to
become a panic elsewhere. Judge Peyton, riding near the gateway of his
rancho, was suddenly confronted by the spectacle of one of his vacqueros
driving on before him the two lassoed and dusty ponies, with a face that
broke into violent gesticulating at his master's quick interrogation.

"Ah! Mother of God! It was an evil day! For the bronchos had run away,
upset the buggy, and had only been stopped by a brave Americano of an
ox-team, whose lasso was even now around their necks, to prove it, and
who had been dragged a matter of a hundred varas, like a calf, at their
heels. The senoritas,--ah! had he not already said they were safe, by
the mercy of Jesus!--picked up by the coach, and would be here at this
moment."

"But where was Pedro all the time? What was he doing?" demanded Peyton,
with a darkened face and gathering anger.

The vacquero looked at his master, and shrugged his shoulders
significantly. At any other time Peyton would have remembered that
Pedro, as the reputed scion of a decayed Spanish family, and claiming
superiority, was not a favorite with his fellow-retainers. But the
gesture, half of suggestion, half of depreciation, irritated Peyton
still more.

"Well, where is this American who DID something when there wasn't a
man among you all able to stop a child's runaway ponies?" he said
sarcastically. "Let me see him."

The vacquero became still more deprecatory.

"Ah! He had driven on with his team towards San Antonio. He would not
stop to be thanked. But that was the whole truth. He, Incarnacion, could
swear to it as to the Creed. There was nothing more."

"Take those beasts around the back way to the corral," said Peyton,
thoroughly enraged, "and not a word of this to any one at the casa, do
you hear? Not a word to Mrs. Peyton or the servants, or, by Heaven, I'll
clear the rancho of the whole lazy crew of you at once. Out of the way
there, and be off!"

He spurred his horse past the frightened menial, and dashed down the