er for them! No, siree, said "Red." He
wouldn't hear of it. And everything had been as amicable as possible.

It was curious to see the change in Uncle Henry since the arrival of little
Pancho. Gilbert got him a brand-new wheel chair--sent all the way to
Phoenix for it--to celebrate the great event; and Uncle Henry loved
nothing better than to take the chap on his knee and give him a ride in the
courtyard whenever Lucia would trust him to his care. He never complained
now. He was deliriously happy, and with the new era of prosperity that had
struck the household, he was given a Mexican boy as his own personal
attendant, and he grew to take a kindly interest in him. He taught him to
read and write English. Thus busily occupied, and loving Lucia because she
loved his nephew so, his health improved, as well as his temper. He could
even tolerate "Red's" harmonica; in fact, he often begged him to play it
when the latter came over to midday dinner, and his legs had so improved
that he could actually jiggle them to some merry tune.

"If you don't look out, you'll be dancin' soon!" "Red" used to say on these
happy occasions. "You can shimmy now!"

"Shet your head!" Uncle Henry cried; but not angrily--not now. He laughed
when he said it, and was secretly flattered that anyone thought he had such
pep at his age and in his condition of semi-invalidism (for that is all it
could be called now).

It was five o'clock when the Giddings family came. They used the faithful
little Ford for the short run; but they too had a big roadster, painted a
flaming red, "to match the master's hair," Mrs. Quinn put it.

Angela, radiant in her motherhood, instantly compared notes with Lucia as
to infant symptoms--not that anything was the matter with either child; but
she loved to be ready for any emergency, and had a natural fear that
Panchita might be taken ill in the night sometime; and was everything in
her home medicine-chest, that should be?

Uncle Henry begged to take both children on his lap; and, holding them
firmly, he made his boy push the chair here and there, got "Red" to play
the once detested harmonica, and had a gay time of it all around the ranch
house.

"We'd better eat indoors this afternoon," Lucia said. "I was going to
spread the table under the pergola; but it may turn cooler."

It was not long before they were all seated at an extended table in the big
living-room--that same room which had been the scene of tragedy and
s