r.

Antonia came out to be sure that the cherished _rebozo_ was tied to the
pommel of Sylvia's saddle, and then Harboro and Sylvia went back into the
house to get into their riding things. When they returned Harboro lifted
her to her saddle with a lack of skill which brought a frown to her brows.
But if she regretted the absence of certain established formalities in
this performance, she yielded herself immediately to the ecstasy of being
in the saddle. She easily assumed a pretty and natural attitude which made
Harboro marvel at her.

She watched when it came time for him to mount. The horse moved uneasily,
as horses have done since the beginning of time beneath the touch of
unpractised riders. Harboro gathered the reins in too firm a grip, and the
animal tried to pull away from him.

The boy from the stable sprang forward. "Let me hold his head," he said,
with a too obvious intimation that Harboro needed help.

"Never mind," said Harboro crisply; and he achieved his place in the
saddle by sheer force rather than by skill. Neither did he fall into an
easy position; though under ordinary circumstances this fact would not
have been noted. But Sylvia swiftly recalled the picture of a dun horse
with golden dapples, and of a rider whose very attitude in the saddle was
like a hymn of praise. And again she sighed.

She had seen Runyon often since the afternoon on which he had made his
first appearance on the Quemado Road. Seemingly, his duties took him out
that way often; and he never passed without glancing toward Sylvia's
window--and looking back again after he had passed. Nor had he often found
that place by the window vacant. In truth, it was one of Sylvia's
pleasures in those days to watch Runyon ride by; and the afternoon seemed
unduly filled with tedium when he failed to appear.

* * * * *

The little picture in front of Harboro's house dissolved. The three riders
turned their horses' heads to the north and rode away. Antonia stood at
the gate an instant and looked after them; but she did not derive any
pleasure from the sight. It was not a very gallant-appearing group. Sylvia
was riding between the two men, and all three were moving away in silence,
as if under constraint. The stable-boy went somewhat dispiritedly back
along the way he had come.

Sylvia was the first of the three riders to find herself. There were
certain things which made the springs of gladness with