e chagrin of
having to wage for the nonce a losing battle, Parker laughed heartily
and with genuine sincerity. Don Mike joined with him and the charged
atmosphere cleared instantly.

"Bill Conway, you're twenty-four carat all through." Farrel laid a hand
affectionately on his father's old friend. "Be sure to come down to
the hacienda tomorrow night and get your check. We dine at six-thirty."

"As is?" Conway demanded, surveying his rusty old business suit and
hard, soiled hands.

"'As is,' Bill."

"Fine! Well, we've come to a complete understanding without falling
out over it, haven't we?" he demanded of Kay and her mother. "With
malice toward none and justice toward all--or words to that effect.
Eh?"

"Oh, get back into your office, Conway, and cast up the account against
me. Figure a full day for the men and the mules, although our break
came at half-past three. I'm a contrary man, but I'm not small. Come
on, Mr. Farrel, let's go home," Parker suggested.

"Little birds in their nest should agree," old Conway warned, as, with
a sweep of his battered old hat to the ladies, he turned to re-enter
his office. With a nod of farewell, John Parker and his wife started
riding down the draw, while Farrel turned to unloosen his saddle-girth
and adjust the heavy stock-saddle on the pinto's back. While he was
thus engaged, Kay rode up to the door of Conway's rough little office,
bent down from Panchito, and peered in.

"Bill Conway!" she called softly.

Bill Conway came to the door.

"What's the big idea, Miss Parker?"

The girl glanced around and saw that Don Mike was busy with the latigo,
so she leaned down, drew her arm around the astounded Conway's neck,
and implanted on his ruddy, bristly cheek a kiss as soft--so Bill
Conway afterward described it--as goose-hair.

"You build that dam," she whispered, blushing furiously, "and see to it
that it's a good dam and will hold water for years. I'm the reserve in
this battle--understand? When you need money, see me, but, oh, please
do not tell Don Mike about it. I'd die of shame."

She whirled Panchito and galloped down the draw, with Miguel Farrel
loping along behind her, while, from the door of his shack of an
office, old Bill Conway looked after them and thoughtfully rubbed a
certain spot on his cheek. Long after the young folks had disappeared
round the base of El Palomar, he continued to gaze. Eventually he was
brought out of his reverie when a cur