blame Jack for not seeking for some obstacle in the path of his
desires.

"She says I'm lazy and got these callouses grabbing the soft snaps
last summer in the mines," Jack called lightly, when finally it
occurred to him that the world held more than two persons. "I'm always
getting the worst of it when you and I are compared. But I believe
I've got the best of you on riding outfit, old man. Take a look at
that saddle, will you! And these spurs! And this bridle! The senorita
says the cattle will fall on their knees when I ride past; we're going
to take a gallop and find out. Want to come along?"

"Arrogant one! The senorita did not agree to that ride! The senorita
has something better to do than bask in the glory of so gorgeous a
senor while he indulges his vanity--and frightens the poor cattle so
that, if they yield their hides at killing time, there will be little
tallow for the ships to carry away!"

The Senorita Teresita would surely never be guilty of a conscious
lowering of one eyelid to point her raillery, but the little twist she
gave to her lips when she looked at Dade offered a fair substitute;
and the flirt of her silken skirts as she turned to run back into the
house was sufficient excuse for any imbecility in a man.

Jack looked after her with some chagrin. "The little minx! A man might
as well put up his hands when he hears her coming--huh? Unless he's
absolutely woman-proof, like you. How do you manage it, anyway?"

"By taking a squint at myself in the looking-glass every morning."
Dade's face managed to wrinkle humorously. "H-m. You are pretty
gorgeous, for a fact. Where's the riata?"

Jack had forgotten that he had ever wanted one. He lifted the heavy,
high-cantled saddle, flung it down upon the other side and untied the
new coil of braided rawhide from its place on the right fork.

"A six-strand, eh? I could tell Manuel a few things about riatas, if
he calls that the best! Four strands are stronger than six, any time.
I've seen too many stranded--"

"The senor is not pleased with the riata?"

Manuel, following Don Andres across to the veranda, had caught the
gesture and tone; and while his knowledge of English was extremely
sketchy, he knew six and four when he heard those numerals mentioned,
and the rest was easy guessing.

"The four strands are good, but the six are better--when Joaquin
Murieta lays the strands. From the hide of a very old bull was this
riata cut; perhaps the senor is aw