Again the rifle cracked. A second chicken flopped down, this one with
its head shot off at the neck.

The eyes of the minister of war were large with amazement. The distance
had been seventy yards, if it had been a step. When little Jimmie
Corbett came running forward with the two dead cockerels a slight
examination showed that the first had also been shot through the neck.

Dick smiled.

"Shall I shoot another and send it for a present to Don Manuel, Jimmie?"
he pleasantly inquired.

Mr. Ainsa met his persiflage promptly.

"I do assure you, _senor_, it will not be at all necesair. Don Manuel
can shoot chickens for himself--and larger game."

"I'm sure he'll find good hunting," the other gave him back, looking up
genially.

"He is a good hunter, _senor_."

"Don't doubt it a bit," granted the cordial Anglo-Saxon. "Trouble is
that even the best hunters can't tell whether they are going to bring
back the bear, or Mr. Bear is going to get them. That's what makes it
exciting, I reckon."

"Is Don Manuel going bear-hunting?" asked Jimmie, with a newly aroused
boy interest.

"Yes, Jimmie. One's been bothering him right considerable, and he's
going gunning for it," explained Dick.

"Gee! I hope he gets it."

"And I hope he don't," laughed Gordon. "Must you really be going,
colonel? Can't I do a thing for you in the refreshment line first? Well,
so long. Good hunting for your friend. See him later."

Thus cheerfully did the irrepressible Gordon speed Mr. Ainsa on his way.

That young man had somehow the sense of having been too youthful to cope
with the gay Gordon.

* * * * *

Valencia Valdes had not ridden far when she met Ramon Ainsa returning
from his mission. He was a sunny young fellow, whom she had known since
they had been children together.

It occurred to her that he bore himself in a manner that suggested
something important on hand. His boyish mouth was set severely, and he
greeted her with a punctilio quite unusual. At once she jumped shrewdly
to a conclusion.

"Did you bring our mail back with you from Corbett's?" she innocently
inquired.

"Yes, _senorita_."

"Since when have I been '_senorita_' to you, Ramon?"

"Valencia, I should say." He blushed.

"Indeed, I should think so. It hasn't been so long since you called me
Val."

"Ah! Those happy days!" he sighed.

"Fiddlesticks!" she promptly retorted. "Don't be a goose. You're not in
the sere and yel