to throw a rope at
me. But Surry took to it like a she-bear to honey, and he's got so he
can gauge distances to a hair, now, and dodge it every pass. I'm going
to ride him to-day with a hackamore; and you watch him perform, old
man! I can turn him on a tin plate, just with pressing my knees. That
horse will--"

"Say, you're stealing my thunder," drawled Dade, grinning. "That's my
privilege, to sing Surry's praises. Haven't I told you, right along,
that he's a wonder?"

"Well, you told the truth for once in your life, anyway. Get up, you
lazy devil, and come out and take a look at him. I'm going to have Diego
give him a bath, soon as the sun gets hot enough. I've got a color
scheme that will make these natives bug their eyes out! And Surry's got
to be considerably whiter than snow--"

"Huh!" Dade was watching him closely while he listened. For all Jack's
exuberance of speech, there was the hard look in his eyes still; and
there was a line between his eyebrows which Dade had never noticed there
before, except as a temporary symptom of anger. He had, Dade remembered,
failed to make any statement of his intentions toward Jose; which was
not like Jack, who was prone to speak impulsively and bluntly his mind.
Also, it occurred to Dade that he had not once mentioned Teresita,
although, before the rodeo his talk had been colored with references to
the girl.

"Oh, how's the senorita, by the way?" Dade asked deliberately.

"All right," returned Jack promptly, with a rising inflection, "Are you
going to get up, or shall I haul you out by the heels?"

Dade, observing an evasion of that subject also, did some hard thinking
while he obediently pulled on his clothes. But he said not a word more
about the duel, or Jose's love-tragedy, or Teresita.

Since the first flush of dawn the dismal squeal of wooden-wheeled
ox-carts had hushed the bird songs all up and down El Camino Real, and
the popping of the drivers' lashes, which punctuated their objurgations
to the shambling oxen, told eloquently of haste. Within canopies formed
of gay, patchwork quilts and gayer serapes, heavy-jowled, swarthy
senoras lurched resignedly with the jolting of the carts, and between
whiles counseled restive senoritas upon the subject of deportment or
gossiped idly of those whom they expected to meet at the fiesta.

The Picardo hacienda was fairly wiped clean of its, comfortable
home-atmosphere, so immaculate was it and so plainly held ready for
ceremo