n. The embrace was so unexpected,
for the ranch mistress was never a demonstrative woman, that its
recipient was, for the instant, speechless; the next, she had turned
herself about and demanded:

"Gabriella Trent, have you had a bite to eat?"

"No. Have you, Mrs. Benton?"

"Not a morsel. I'm as empty as a bubble. No more has the captain
touched a thing. She's here, there and everywhere, among her precious
'boys,' yet not a one of 'em has the decency to say: 'Share my supper,
Lady Jess.' If they were my 'boys,' I'd----"

"No, you wouldn't, mother. And I'm glad to see you two women resting a
spell. Keep on sitting there. We're going to wait on you now, and
don't you believe we haven't put by the pick of the pies for you all!
The captain is fetchin' the tackers, and Pasqual's fetchin' the food.
But what about old Pedro and the coyote?"

"John, don't call names, 'specially hard ones. They always come home
to roost. But I'm glad you do some credit to your upraisin', and did
remember that somebody else, except yourself, might be hungry. Wait,
Gabriell'. Don't you worry about that Indian. I'll just step in and
fix him somethin'."

"You'd better not, mother. He's got all the company he wants at this
present writing."

This was sufficient to spur Mrs. Benton's energy afresh. Curiosity was
her besetting sin, and she could not endure that anything should go on
about the ranch in which she had no hand. Rising rather hastily from a
chair that was much too frail for her weight, she and it came to
grief, and the fact diverted her attention for the time.

John was glad of this, though outwardly he sympathized with her slight
mishap, and facetiously offered her a dose of her own picra.

Mrs. Trent also rose, saying:

"I will go to Pedro. Though I did try to thank him, when he first
came, I had but a moment to give him then, and I fear he will feel he
has been neglected. As if I could ever neglect one to whom I owe my
darling's restoration!"

Mrs. Benton looked after her, and sighed.

"There she goes again! and that woman hasn't tasted a mouthful in a
dog's age!"

"How long's a 'dog's age,' Aunt Sally?" demanded Ned as he helped
himself to a buttered biscuit which Pasqual had just placed on the old
lady's plate.

"Age as long as a dog," commented Luis, seizing the biscuit from his
mate and running away with it. Of course, Ned gave chase, and the
usual battle ensued, after which they dropped down upon the spot where
t