holding this cool, self-reliant girl in high
admiration. She never once thought of fainting; but along toward morning
she did say that she was scared then at thinking of it.

Early in the morning a party of herders, with Josephine's father ahead,
rode into sight. They were hunting for her. Josephine got up on the
tender to attract their attention, and soon she was in her father's
arms. Her frightened pony had gone home as fast as his legs would carry
him, and a relief party swam their horses at the ford and rode forward
at once.

The old Don was profuse in his thanks, and would not leave us until
Billy and I had agreed to visit his ranch and enjoy a hunt with him, and
actually set a date when we should meet him at the big corral. I wanted
a rest anyway, and it was perfectly plain that Billy was beyond his
depth in love with the girl at first sight; so we were not hard to
persuade when she added her voice to her father's.

Early in September Billy and I dropped off No. 1 with our guns and
"plunder," as baggage is called there, and a couple of the old Don's men
met us with saddle and pack animals. I never spent a pleasanter two
weeks in my life. The quiet, almost gloomy, old Don and I became fast
friends, and the hunting was good. The Don was a Spaniard, but
Josephine's mother had been a Mexican woman, and one noted for her
beauty. She had been dead some years at the time of our visit. Billy
devoted most of his time to the girl. They were a fine looking young
couple, he being strong and broad-shouldered, with laughing blue eyes
and light curly hair, she slender and perfect in outline, with a typical
Southern complexion, black eyes--and such eyes they were--and hair and
eyebrows like the raven's wing.

A few days before Billy and I were booked to resume our duties on the
deck of the "Mary Ann," Miss Josephine took my arm and walked me down
the yard and pumped me quietly about "Mr. Howell," as she called Billy.
She went into details a little, and I answered all questions as best I
could. All I said was in the young man's favor--it could not, in truth,
be otherwise. Josephine seemed satisfied and pleased.

When we got back to headquarters, I was given the care of a cold-water
Hinkley, with a row of varnished cars behind her, and Billy fell heir to
the rudder of the "Mary Ann." We still roomed together. Billy put in
most of his lay-over time writing long letters to somebody, and every
Thursday, as regular as a clock, one