its gala best of yellows.

"You've got that fine," he told her enthusiastically.

She shook her head, unmoved by praise which did not approve itself to
her judgment as merited.

"No, I didn't get it at all. A great artist might get the wonder of it;
but I can't."

"It looks good to me," he said.

"Then I'm afraid you're not a judge," she smiled.

From where they stood a trail wound along the ridge and down into a
valley beyond. At the farther edge of this, nestling close to the hills
that took root there, lay the houses of a ranch.

"That is where I live," she told him.

He thought it a lovely spot, almost worthy of her, but obviously he
could not tell her so. Instead, he voiced an alien thought that happened
to intrude:

"Do you know Senorita Valdes? But of course you must."

She flung a quick glance at him, questioning.

"Yes, I know her."

"She lives somewhere round here, too, does she not?"

Her arm swept round in a comprehensive gesture. "Over that way, too."

"Do you know her well?"

An odd smile dimpled her face.

"Sometimes I think I do, and then again I wonder."

"I have been told she is beautiful."

"Beauty is in the beholder's eyes, _senor_. Valencia Valdes is as Heaven
made her."

"I have no doubt; but Heaven took more pains with some of us than
others--it appears."

Again the dark eyes under the long lashes swept him from the curly head
to the lean, muscular hands, and approved silently the truth of his
observation. The clean lithe build of the man, muscles packed so that
they rippled smoothly like those of a panther, appealed to her trained
eyes. So, too, did the quiet, steady eyes in the bronzed face, holding
as they did the look of competent alertness that had come from years of
frontier life.

"You are interested in Miss Valdes?" she asked politely.

"In a way of speaking, I am. She is one of the reasons why I came here."

"Indeed! She would no doubt be charmed to know of your interest," still
with polite detachment.

"My interest ain't exactly personal; then again it is," he contributed.

"A sort of an impersonal personal interest?"

"Yes; though I don't quite know what that means."

"Then I can't be expected to," she laughed.

His laughter joined hers; but presently he recurred to his question:

"You haven't told me yet about Miss Valdes. Is she as lovely as they say
she is?"

"I don't know just how lovely they say she is. Sometimes I have thought
her very passa