er sailor-hat, set well down on her head, her wistful brown
eyes looked up at Don Mike, and caught the quick glance of approval with
which he appraised her, before turning to her mother.

"The black mare for you, Mrs. Parker," he suggested. "She's a regular
old sweetheart and single-foots beautifully. I think you'll find that
stock-saddle a far more comfortable seat than the saddle Miss Kay is
using."

"I know I'm not as light and graceful as I used to be, Mike," the amiable
soul assured him, "but it irks me to have men notice it. You _might_
have given me an opportunity to decline Kay's saddle. There is such a
thing as being too thoughtful, you know."

"Mother!" Kay cried reproachfully.

Don Mike blushed, even while he smiled his pleasure at the lady's
badinage. She observed this.

"You're a nice boy, Michael," she murmured, for his ear alone. "Why, you
old-fashioned young rascal!"--as Don Mike stooped and held out his hand.
She placed her left foot in it and was lifted lightly into the saddle.
When he had adjusted the stirrups to fit her, he turned to aid Kay, only
to discover that the gallant Panchito had already performed the honors
for that young lady by squatting until she could reach the stirrup
without difficulty.

Parker rode the gray horse, and Farrel had appropriated a pinto cow pony
that Pablo used when line-riding.

With the hounds questing ahead of them, the four jogged up the San
Gregorio, Don Mike leading the way, with Kay riding beside him. From
time to time she stole a sidelong glance at him, riding with his chin on
his breast, apparently oblivious of her presence. She knew that he was
not in a mood to be entertaining to-day, to be a carefree squire of
dames; his mind was busy grappling with problems that threatened not only
him but everything in life that he held to be worth while.

"Do we go through that gate?" the girl queried, pointing to a five-rail
gate in a wire fence that straggled across the valleys and up the
hillside.

He nodded.

"Of course you do not have to go through it," he teased her. "Panchito
can go over it. Pie for him. About five feet and a half."

"Enough for all practical purposes," she replied, and touched her
ridiculous little spurs to the animal's flank, took a firm grip on the
reins with both hands, and sat down firmly in the saddle. "All right,
boy!" she cried, and, at the invitation, Panchito pricked up his ears and
broke into an easy canter, gradu