call a peon and order the horses saddled.

He turned from watching proudly the glitter of the trimmings on his
new saddle as the peon bore it away on his shoulder, and confronted
Dade with a tinge of defiance in his manner.

"Well, what have I done now?" he challenged. "Anything particularly
damnable about talking five minutes to a girl in plain sight of her--"

Dade threw out both hands in a gesture of impatience. "That isn't the
only important thing in the world," he pointed out sarcastically. If
the inner hurt served to sharpen his voice, he did not know it. "Don
Andres wants to make me his majordomo."

Jack's eyes bulged a little; and if Dade had not wisely side-stepped
he would have received another one of Jack's muscle-tingling slaps on
the shoulder. "Whee-ee! Say, you're getting appreciated, at last, old
man. Good for you! Give me a job?"

"I'm not going to take it," said Dade. "I was going to ask you if you
want to pull out with me to-morrow."

Jack's jaw went slack. "Not going to take it!" He leaned against the
adobe wall behind him and stuck both hands savagely into his pockets.
"Why, you darned chump, how long ago was it that you talked yourself
black in the face, trying to make me say I'd stay? Argued like a man
trying to sell shaving soap; swore that nobody but a born idiot would
think of passing up such a chance; badgered me into giving in; and now
when you've got a chance like this, you--Say, you're loco!"

"Maybe." Dade's eyes went involuntarily toward the veranda, where
Teresita appeared for an instant, looking questioningly towards them.
"Maybe I am loco. But Manuel's mad because the don offered me the
place, and has quit; and he says half the vaqueros will leave, that
they won't work under a gringo."

Jack's indignant eyes changed to a queer, curious stare. "Dade Hunter!
If I didn't know you, if I hadn't seen you in more tight places than
I've got fingers and toes, I'd say--But you aren't scared; you never
had sense enough to be afraid of anything in your life. You can't
choke that down me, old man. What's the real reason why you want to
leave?"

The real reason came again to the doorway sixty feet away and looked
out impatiently to where the senors were talking so earnestly and
privately; but Dade would have died several different and unpleasant
deaths before he would name that reason. Instead:

"It will be mighty disagreeable for Don Andres, trying to keep things
smooth," he said. "And