yellow tide that cannot be
stemmed? Why do you taunt me with my aversion to sacrifice for my
country--I who have sacrificed two years of my life and some of my
blood and much of my happiness?"

Suddenly she put her little gauntleted hand up to her face and
commenced to weep. "Oh, Don Mike, please forgive me! I'm sorry.
I--I--have no right to demand such a sacrifice, but oh, I
thought--perhaps--you were different from all the others--that you'd be
a true--knight and die--sword in--hand--oh, dear, I'm such a--little
ninny--"

He bit his lower lip but could not quite conceal a smile.

"You mean you didn't think I was a quitter!" His voice was grim and
crisp. "Well, in the dirty battle for bread and butter there are no
decorations for gallantry in action; in that conflict I do not have to
live up to the one that Congress gave me. And why shouldn't I quit? I
come from a long line of combination fighter-quitters. We were never
afraid of hardship or physical pain, danger or death, but--we couldn't
face conditions; we balked and quit in the face of circumstance; we
retired always before the economic onslaught of the Anglo-Saxon."

"Ah, but you're Anglo-Saxon," she sobbed. "You belong to the race that
doesn't quit--that somehow muddles through."

"If I but possessed blue eyes and flaxen hair--if I but possessed the
guerdon of a noble lady's love--I might not have disappointed you, Kay.
I might still have been a true knight and died sword in hand.
Unfortunately, however, I possess sufficient Latin blood to make me a
little bit lazy--to counsel quitting while the quitting is good."

"I'm terribly disappointed," she protested. "Terribly."

"So am I. I'm ashamed of myself, but--a contrite heart is not hockable
at the only pawnshop in El Toro. Buck up, Miss Parker!"

"You have called me Kay three times this afternoon, Miguel--"

He rode close to her, reached over and gently drew one little hand from
her crimson face. "You're a dear girl, Kay," he murmured, huskily.
"Please cease weeping. You haven't insulted me or even remotely hurt
my little feelings. God bless your sweet soul! If you'll only stop
crying, I'll give you Panchito. He's yours from this minute. Saddle
and bridle, too. Take him. Do what you please with him, but for
heaven's sake don't let your good mother think we've been
quarreling--and on the very second day of our acquaintance."

She dashed the tears away and beamed up at him. "You giv