HEART
gftho
SUNSET
r&? REX BEACH.
Author of14 The Spoilers, ” “7 he Iron Trail ”
“ The Silver Horde” Etc.
*-**r'*t* h «r jirMkM,
i
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER I—Set afoot anil alone bv an
accident ill the desert near the Rio Grande
Mrs. Aiaire Austin, mistress of Las Pal
mas and IA Feria ranches, meets have
haw, Texas Ranger, ai a water hole and
is compelled to spend the night there with
him, as he is in ambush for a murderer
and cannot leave his post.
CHAPTER II—Next day at evening the
murderer appears witii a companion.
CHAPTER III—I-aw captures the mur- I
derer but is compelled to kill his compan
ion, Paufllo Sanchez, who happens to be
a cousin of Mrs. Austin's iiorsebreaker,
Jose Sanchez,
CHAPTER IV—At Las Palmas Aiaire
tells her husband, Ed, that Ills carousals
and inebriety must stop. Her cattle
at i>a Feria, the Mexican ranch, are con- ■
f,seated by Longorio, Mexican federal
general, and she finds that it is because
Ed has been helping the rebel junta.
CHAPTER VI—Entertained at their
home by Blaze Jones and his daughter
Paloma, Have hears something about the
Tad Lewis outfit, which is suspected of
cattle stealing. With Ricardo Guzman and
ills boys Dave and Blaze go on a scout
alter cattle thieves.
CHAPTER VII—Law catches two of the
Lewis outfit branding a stolen calf and in
a fight kills one and has his Iiorse shot
under him. He trails the other thief to
Las Palmas, where he is insulted bv Ed
Austin, whom he knows to be very friend
ly with the Lewis outfit.
CHAPTER VIII—I,aw follows up ti,«
trail of Urbina, the escaped thief, to no
purpose except to confirm Austin's con
nection with the Lewis outfit.
“Good! Sec that you keep your
word. On the day that yon forget for
tile first time Luis Longorio will gome
to see you. And then what!" lie
scowled at them fiercely.
“We will not forget,” the Garcias
chorused.
There was a murmur 'run the on
lookers; someone cried, “Viva Longo
rio !”
Tlie general bowed smilingly; then,
taking AI a ire’s arm, he waved the
Idlers out of his path with a magnifi
cent gesture.
When, later in tin* day, Mrs. Austin
came to say good-by and thank the
Mexican for his courtesies, he hnninly
begged permission to pay his respects
that evening at her hotel, and she
could not refuse.
As the coach went bouncing across
the International bridge, Dolores said
spitefully: "it will take more than ihe
pardon of poor Juan Garcia to unlock
heaven for that bandit. Do you notice
the way he looks at you? It is enough
to damn him for all eternity."
1 pen her arrival at the hotel Alalre
received an agreeable surprise, for as
her vehicle paused at the curb David
Law stepped forward, hat hi hand.
"What bloodthirsty business brings
you to I’ueblo?" she (pierled. when they
had exchanged greetings.
Law smiled at her. “I came to of- I
fer free hoard and lodging to a pooi j
Greaser. But lie ain't here. And you.
ma’am?”
When Dave learned that she was |
counting upon General I.uis Longnrlo’s !
aid in securing justice, lie regarded her
with some curiosity as lie inquired:
"Isn’t Longorlo tin* very man who
robbed you?”
“Yes.”
"Mexicans are peculiar ppople,” Law
said slowly. "At least we don’t under- j
stand their business methods or their
habits of mind. From my experience
with them, I wouldn't put much confi
dence in this Longorio's word. I say
this, and I’m supposed to have a little
Mexican blood In me."
During this brief conversation they
had entered the hotel, and she gave i
her hand to Law.
“I hope we shall see eaou otner
again,” she murmured.
“That's mnro’n likely: I’m located In
your neighborhood now," he informed
her. “I’m leaving for Janesville In the
morning.”
“Ry train?”
“No’m. I'm coin’ to follow the river
road if T can get an nutomoblle.”
Mindful of the Ranger’s courtesy to
her on their previous meeting, Alaire
said: “Won’t you go with us? We in
tend to start early."
Dave was nearly speechless with de
light, and when the mistress of Las
Palmas had gone upstairs he felt in
clined to pinch himself to see if he
were dreaming. He had pursued a
fruitless quest' during the past few
days, nnd his resentment had grown
ns he became certain that Tad Lewis
hnd sent him on a wild-goose chase;
but 'the sight of Alaire miraculously
restored his good spirits, and the pros
pect of a long, intimate ride in her
company changed the whole trend of
his thoughts. His disappointment at
not seeing her upon his visit to Las
Palmas had only served to enhance
his memories of their first meeting, and
time now had deepened his Interest
tenfold. Yes. she was “The Lone
Star," the estrella brillante of his
empty sky. There could be.no doubt
about his feelings: he was more than
romantically Interested, the mere sight
ot her had electrified him. The discov
ery distressed him. and he ver\ prop
erly decided that the affair should end
here, siuce It could lead to nothlug
ex< opt disappointment.
At the time of this story, relations
between the United States and the es
tabllshed government of Mexico were
such that a hostility had sprung tip
between the troops fronting eaeli other
along the Rio Grande, and in conse
quence their officers no longer crossed
the boundary, even when off duty. It
created a flurry of suppressed excite
ment, therefore, when Luis I.ongorio,
the autocrat of the Potosista forces,
boldly crossed the bridge, traversed
the streets of Pueblo, and entered the
Hamilton hotel.
From bis seat in the lobby Law
heard the general inquire for Mrs, Aus
tin. nftd then saw him ascend in the
direction of the parlor. He rose and
at rolled restlessly about the hotel. A
half-hour pass'd and I.ongorio did not
reappear; an hour dragged by. and
then Dave took occasion to go to his
room. A glance through the open par
lor door showed the foreigner in closest
Conversation with Mrs. Austin. They
were laughing: they were alone' even
Dolores was nowhere to he seen. He
chewed several cigars viciously before
realizing that he was jealous—yes.
madly, unreasonably jealous.
yo! His divinity was not as unap
proachable as he had Imagined. Doubt
less I.ongorio was mad over her, which
explained the fellow's willingness to
help her exact reparation from his gov
ernment. Fine doings for a respect
able married woman! It was wrong,
scandalous, detestable!
Had Dave only known the truth, he
would have gulned a grim comfort
from It, for Alairc Austin was not en
Joying herself that evening. Iler call
er stayed on Interminably, and she he
cnine restive tinder the flow of bis con
versation. For some reason or other.
I.ongorio was not the romantic figure
he had been: In his citizen’s clothes
he was only a dandified Mexican gal
lant like any number of others. The
color was gone from the picture; this
quixjdlc guerrilla hero, this elegant
Ituy Jilas, was nothing more than n
tall, olive-skinned foreigner, whose ar
dor was distasteful. Longorlo was
tiresome.
CHAP c.R X.
Jose Sanchez Swears an Oath.
Jose Sanchez mad*- use of the delfi
nt Pueblo to lnstltut< further Inqulrl
regarding his missin ’ousin. but
where could he find tl ’lghtest 1
Jose swore an oath thu ’
the truth If it required u. .ue
time, and. If it should turn out that
his sainted relative had indeed met
with foul play—well! Jose told his
friends they could Judge, by looking at
him, the sort of mail he was. He proud
ly displayed Longorio’s revolver, and
called It his cousin's little avenger. The
weapon had slain many; it had a duty
still to perform, so he said.
Jose intended to confide his purpose
to Mrs. Austin, but when it came time
to start for Las Palmas there was a
fourth passenger in the automobile,
and lie was obliged to hold his tongue
for the moment. Alaire was in good
humor, and expressed her relief at
escaping from everything Mexican.
‘T haven't seen a newspaper for
ages, and 1 don’t know what is going
on at Jonesville or anywhere else,” she
confided.
Dave told her of the latest develop
ments In the Mexican situation, of
home happenings, and when she asked
i him about his own doings, he informed
her of the affair widely had brought
him to Pueblo.
Of course all three of his companions
were breathlessly interested in the
s iry of Pino Garza's death; Dolores!
and Jose did not allow a word to
escape them.
“Caramha! It required bravery to
1 ride alone into that rincon,” Jose de
clared. “I know Pino Garza well, and
! he could shoot like the devil.”
“You said your horse saved your
life," Mrs. Austin went on. “How do1
you mean?" When Dave had explained,
she cried, quickly, “You weren’t rid
ing—Bessie Belle?”
“Yes. She’s burled where she
dropped. I've been right lonesome
since she went away.”
Alaire turned a quick glance upon
the speaker to find his face set and
his eyes miserable. Impulsively site
laid her hand upon his arm, saying:
“I know how you must feel. Do you
know what has always been my dear
est wish? To he able to talk with ani
mals and make friends of them.”
Dave smiled absentinindedly.
“There’s a wonderful book about a
icar-sighted old Frenchman who was
•asi away on a penguin Island, lie saw
the big birds walking around, and
.bought they were human beings."
“How did you happen to read ,'na
[ole France?” Alaire asked, with a
■Jiarp stare of surprise.
The Hanger stirred hut lie (lid tot
meet iter eyes. "Well,” said he, "I
read 'most anything"! ran get. A~(Vi
ler meets up with strange books just
like he meets up with strange people.”
“Not books like—that.” There was
a brief silence. “Mr. Law, you went
to school in the East, didn’t you?
Where?” The man hesitated, at which
she insisted, “Where?”
I have reluctantly turned upon her a
pair of eyes in the depths of which
■pt-AlTiyJ
VAi_fNTe
“Yog Went to School in the East,
Didn’t You?"
there lurked the faintest twinkle.
“Cornell,” said he.
Aluire gnsped. After a while she re
marked, stiffly, “You have a peculiar
sense of humor.”
“Now don't he offended,” he begged
her. “I'm a good deal like a chame
leon ; i unconsciously change my color
to suit my surroundings. When we
first met 1 saw that you took me for
one thing, and since then I’ve tried not
to show you your mistake.”
“Why did you let me send you those
silly hooks? 1 dare say you’ve had a
tine laugh at my expense?”
“Xu!” gravely denied the man.
They had come to an arroyo contain
ing a considerable stream of muddy
water, find Law was forced to get out
to plug the carburetor and stop the oil
intakes to the crank-case. This done,
Alaijv ran the machine through on tin
self-starter. When Jose’s “C'aram
bus!” and Dolores’ shrieks had sub
sided, and they w,ere again under way,
Mrs. Austin, it seemed, had regained
her good humor.
“You will receive no more of my fa
vorite authors,” she told Dave, spite
fully. "I’ll keep them to read my
self.”
"Do you still believe In chivalry?”
Alai re turned her eyes upon the
<iuostioner. and there were no girlish
illusions in them. "Do you?” she quer
ied, with a faint curl of her lip.
“Why—yes.”
She shook her head. “Men have
••hanged. Nowadays they are all self
ish and sordid. Hut—I shouldn't gen
eralize. for I’m a notorious man-hater,
you know.”
He nodded, whereupon she eyed him
speculatively. “Let us see. You are
a man—how far would you go for the
woman you loved?”
“The limit!”
Mrs. Austin frowned at this light
seeming answer. “I suppose you mean
hat you would make any sacrifice?”
“Yes; that’s it."
“Would you give up the woman her
self. if you considered it your duty?"
“No. There couldn't he any duty
higher than love—to my -way of think
ing. But you shouldn’t take me as
a specimen. I’m not a good represen
tative of my sex.”
“I think you are a very good one,”
Alaire said quietly, and Dave realized
that no flattery was intended.
Despite the rough roads, they made
fair time, and the miles of cactus and
scrawny brush rolled swiftly past. The
morning sun swung higher, and by
midday the metal of the automobile
bad become as hot as a frying pan.
They stopped at various goat ranches
to inquire about Adolfo Urbina, and at
noon halted beside a watercourse for
lunch.
nave was reniung tne radiator wnen
he overheard Jose in conversation with
Mrs. Austin.
“Nowherg a trace!” the horse
lirenker was saying. “No one has seen
him. Poor Kosa Morales will die of
a broken heart.”
Alafre explained to her {rues' : “.Tost
Is worried about his cousin Pantile, it
seems lie lias disappeared."
“So! You are Pantile's cousin?'
Have eyed the Mexican with new in
terest.
, “Si !”
“You remember the man?” Alaire
went on. “He was with that fellow
you arrested at the water-hole."
“Oh, yes. 1 remember him.” Wilt
steady fingers Dave shook some to
! bacon into a cigarette paper. He felt
! Alaire's eyes upon him, and they wort
eloquent of Inquiry, but he did noi
meet them.
Jose frowned. “No one at La Fort a
; has seen him, and in Pueblo there was
not a word. It is strange.”
“Panfllo was in had company when
T saw him.” Law finished rolling his
cigarette and lit it. still conscious ot
Alaire's questioning gaze. “He may
have had trouble.”
“He was a good man,” the horse
breaker asserted. “If he is dead—’’
The Mexican’s frown deepened to a
scowl.
“Wlmt then?”
Jose significantly patted the gift re
volver at his hip. “This little fellow
will have something to say."
Dave looked him over idly, from
head to heel, then murmured: “You
would do well to go slow, compadre,
Panfllo made ids own quarrels."
“We were like brothers, and I do
not know of any quarrels. Hut I shall
find out. I am not given to boast lag.
senor, but I am a devilish bud man in
my way.”
Nothing morn wos said during the
luncheon. but when Alaire had finished
eatlng^md her two employees had be
gun their meal, she eliinbed the bank
of the nrroyo ostensibly to find a cool
spot. Having succeeded, she called to
Dave:
“There Is a nice breeze tip here.”
The Hunger's face sot; rising slow
ly. he climbed the bank after her.
When they stood face to face in the
shade of a gnarly oak tree, Aluire
asked him point-blank:
“Where is Pantile Sanchez?”
Dave met her eyes squarely; bis
own were cold and hard, “lie’s where
he dropped at my second shot,” said
he.
lie could hear bis companion’s shorn '
Inhalation. He did not flinch at the
look she turned upon him.
“He was practically unarmed! What
do you call—such an act?"
Dave’s lips slowly whitened, his face
became stony. He felt himself piti
lessly condemned.
“Why didn’t you tell me nf the
time?” she asked. “Why didn’t you
report it?”
“I'll report it when you give me per
mission.”
“1—? What—?” She wheeled to
face him.,
“Think a moment. I can't tell half
the truth. And If I toll everything,
it will lead to—gossip.”
“Ah! 1 think I understand. Mr.
Law. von can he insulting—”
For the first time the man lost mus
cular control of his features; they
twitched, and* under their tan his
cheeks became sickly yellow.
“You’ve no right to say that,” he told
her harshly. “You’ve plumb over
stepped yourself, ma’am, and—I reck
on you’ve formed quite a wrong opin
ion. Panfilo had his six-shoofer and
he ust'd it: he intended to ambush me
and release his companion, hut I
forced his hand : so it ain’t what I’d
call murder; I haven’t lost any sleep
over it. I—”
“You are utterly ruthless.”
Yes ni! I in not what you would
consider a nice person; the death of
Panfllo Sanchez means nothing what
ever to me. If you can grasp that fact,
you’ll see that your own reputation
weighed heavier in my mind that the
lives of a dozen Mexicans—or whites,
for that matter.”
“I go anywhere, everywhere. No one
has ever had the effrontery to ques
tion my actions,” Alaire told him.
stiffly.
“And I don’t aim to give ’em a
chance." Dave was stubborn.
There was another interval of si
lence.
“You heard what .Tose said. What
are you going to do?”
Dave made a gesture of indiffer
ence. “It doesn’t greatly matter. I ll
toll him the truth, perhaps. You might
I warn him against any foolishness.
[ Jose has some sense.”
Thi' woman looked up curiously.
“Don’t you know how to he afraid?
Haven’t you any fear?” she asked.
Dave’s gray eyes were steady as he
answered: “Yes’ra! I’m afraid this
thing Is going to spoil our friendship.
I’ve been desperately afraid, all along,
that I might have hurt your reputa
tion. Even now I’m afraid, on your
account, to make public Panfllo San
chez’s death. Yes’m, I know what it
is to he afraid.”
It became evident to Dave, as the
afternoon progressed, that they would
be very late in arriving at Las Palmas,
and he began to fear that his hostess
would feel in duty ImiuikI to insist upon
his spending the night at her home.
Hut as if his thoughts were telepa
thic messages, she did the very thing
he feared.
“We won’t be in before midnight.”
she said, "but I’ll send you to Jones
vllle in the morning.”
“Thank you. ma’am—I’ll have to go
right through.”
“I’ll get you there in time for busi
ness. We’re gained a reputation for
ip hospitableness at Las Palmas that
1 want to overcome. Mr. Austin ought
to know.” she added, “about this—mat
ter we were discussing, and I want him
to meet you.’
•He has!’ Dave said, shortly; and
at his tone Alalre looked lip.
“So!’ She studied his grim face.
"And you quarreled'/”
“I’d really prefer to go on. ma’am.
I’ll get to .lonesviile somehow.”
“You refuse—to stay under his
roof?”
"That's about it.”
“I’m sorry.” She did not ask for
further explanation.
The windows of I.as Palmas were
black, the house silent, when they
arrived at their .journey’s end; Dolo
res was fretful, and her mistress nehed
In every hone. When Jose had helped
Ids countrywoman into the house.
Alaire said:
“If you insist upon going through,
you must take the ear. You can re
turn it tomorrow.”
“And—about l’anfilo?" Dave queried.
“Walt. Perhaps I’ll decide what is
best to do in the meantime. Good
night.”
Law took her extended hand. Alalre
was glad that he did not fondle it in
that detestable Mexican fashion of
which she had lately experienced so
much ; glad that the grasp of his long,
strong fingers was merely firm and
friendly. When he stepped hack into
the car and drove off through the
night, she stood for some time looking
after him.
*******
Plar.o Jones had insisted that Dave
live at his house, and the Ranger had
norep!od the invitation; but as it was
late when the latter arrived at .Jones
vtlle, he went to the hotel for a few
hours’ rest. When he drove his bor
rowed machine up to the Jones house,
'breu'kfast lime, "Both Glaze anil
Pit lorna wore delighted to see him.
“Say. now! What you doing rolling
1 around in n gasoline go-devil?” the
older man inquired, and Law was
forced to explain.
“Lather has never learned to drive
a car without yelling ‘Gee’und‘Haw,’”
1 laughed l’ah.mn. “And he thinks he
has titli; to the whole road, too. You
know these Mexicans are slow about
pulling their wagons to one side. Well,
lather got mad one day, and when a
team refused him the right of way. he
| whipped out his revolver and fired.”
Blaze smiled broadly. “It worked
great. And believe me, thorn Greasers
took to the ditch. I went through like
a hot wind, hut 1 shot up sixty-five
i e.a't ridges la-tween here and town.”
“Why didn't Mrs. Austin nsk you to
! stay all night at Las Palmas?” the
girl inquired of Dave.
“Slit- did.”
“Wonderful 1” Paloma’s surprise
was evidently sincere. “I suppose you
refused because of the way Ed treated
you. Tell me, is she nice?”
“She's lovely.”
This vehement declaration brought
a sudden gleam of Interest Into the
iptest ioner’s eyes.
“They say she has the most won
derful gowns and jewels, and dresses
for dinner every night. Well”—Palo
ma tossed her head—“I’m going to
have some nice clothes, too. You
wait!”
“Now don't you start riggin’ yonr
self up for meals,” Blaze said, wnrn
Ingly. “First thing I know, you’ll have
me in n full-dress suit, spillin’ soup
on my shirt.” Then to his guest he
complained, feelingly: “I don’t know
what’s come over Paloma lately; this
new dressmaker has plumb stampeded
her. Somebody’d ought to run that
feline out of town before she ruins 1
me.”
“She Is a very nice woman,” coin
plaeentjy declared the daughter; but
her father snorted loudly.
“I wouldn’t associate with such a
critter.”
“My ! But you’re proud.”
“It ain’t that,” Blaze defended him
self. “I know her husband, and he's
a had hotnbre. He hacked me up
against a waterin’ trough and told my
fortune yesterday. He said I'd be
married twice and have many children.
He said I loved widows, and unless I
was poisoned by a dark lady I’d live
to be eighty years old. If I'd had a tfun
on me, I’d have busted him for some
of the things he said. ‘A dark lady!'
That's his wife. I give you warnin’,
Baloma, don’t you ask her to stay for
meals. People like them are danger
ous."
“You’re too silly!” said Paloma.
“Nobody believes in such things.”
“They don’t, eh? Well, he’s got
all .lonesville walkin’ around ladders,
and spiffin' through crossed fingers,
and countin’ the spots on their nails.
He interprets their dreams and locates
lost articles.”
“Maybe he can tMl me where to find
Adolfo Urbina?” Dave suggested.
“Humph! If he can’t. Tad Lewis
can. Say, Dave, this case of yours
has stirred'lip a lot of footin' 'gainst
Tad. The prosecutin’ attorney says
lie’ll sure cinch him and Urbina both.
One of Lewis' men got on a bender
the other night and declared Adolfo
would never come to trial.”
“Whni did he mean?"
“It may have been mescal talk, but
witnesses sometimes have a way of
disappearin’. I wouldn’t put anything
past that gang.”
Not long after breakfast Don Ricar
do Guzman appeared at the Jones
house and warmly greeted his two
friends. To Dave he explained:
“Last night I came to town, and this
morning I heard you had returned, so
I rode out at once. You were unsuc
cessf ul?”
“Our man never went to Pueblo.”
“Exactly. 1 thought as much. How
ever, 1 go to meet Blanco today, and
perhaps I shall discover something.”
“Wliat takes you over there?” Blaze
Inquired.
“Wait until I tell you. Senor David,
here, brings me good fortune at every
turn. He honors my poor, thirsty
rancho with a visit and brings a glori
ous rain; then he destroys my enemies
like it thunderbolt. No sooner is this
done ; ban 1 receive from the Federals
an offer for fifty of my best horses.
Cnramba! Such a price, too. They
are in it great burry, which looks us
if they expected an attack from the
('andt loristas at Matainoros. | hope
so. (hid grant these traitors are de
feated. Anyhow, the horses have gone,
and today I go to get my money in
gold.”
“Who’s going with yon?’' asked Law.
Uieardo shrugged. “Nobody. There
Is no dangt r.”
Blaze shook his head. “They know
you are a red-lmt rebel. 1 wouldn’t
trust them.’
“They know. also, that I am an
American, like you gentlemen," proud
ly asserted Ctizmau. "That makes ttj
difference. 1 supported the Liberate'
-—(hid rest bis soul !—and 1 secretly
assist those who fight Ids fUJ':isslns
lint so does everybody else, 1 r(..
oeiving a tine price for thuse horses,
so it is worth a little risk, Now, se
nor,” he addressed himself to the
Banger, "I have brought you a little
present. Day and ntglir my hoys and
I have worked tipou It, for we kuow
the good heart you have. It was fin
ishod yesterday., feee!” Uieardo un
wrapped a. bundle he had fetched, dis
playing a magnificent bridle iff plait
ed horsehair. It was cunningly
wrought, and lavishly decorated with
silver fittings. “You recognize those
hairs?” he queried. “They came from
the mane and tail of vour bonita."
“Bessie Belle!” Law accepted the!
handsome token, then held out his
band to the Mexican. “That was I
mighty flne "o? you, TtTcardo. I— You
couldn't hove pleased me more. We’re
going to be friends.”
Guzman’s delight was keen, his
grizzled face beamed, and he showed
his white teeth In a smile. “Say no
more. What is mine Is yours—my
house, my cattle, my right hand. I
and my sons will serve you, and yon
must come often to see us. Now I
must go.” He shook hands heartily
and rode away, waving his hat.
“There’s a good Greaser,” Blaze said
with conviction, and Dave agreed feel
ingly.
“Yes! I’d about do nnything for
him. after this." Then he took the
bridle In for Paloma to admire.
CHAPTER XI.
The Rodeo.
It was with a feeling of some reluc
tance that Dave drove up to Las Pal
mas shortly after the lunch hour, for
he had no desire to meet “Young Ed.”
However, to his relief, Austin did not
appear, and Inasmuch as Alaire did
not refer to her husband In any way,
Dave decided that he must he absent,
perhaps on one of his notorious sprees.
The mistress of the big ranch was
in tier harness, having at once assumed
her neglected duties. She came to
welcome her enller in a short khaki
riding suit; her feet were incased in
tan boots; she wore a mannish felt,
lint and gantlet gloves, showing that
she had spent the morning in the
saddle. Dave thought she looked ex
ceedingly capable and businesslike,
and not less beautiful In these clothes;
lie feasted his eyes covertly upon her.
“I expected you for luncheon,” she
smiled; and Dave could have kicked
himself. “I’m Just going out now. If
you’re not in too great a burry to go
home, you may go with me.”
“That would be flue,” he agreed.
“Come, then. I have a horse for
you." As she led the way back toward
the farm buildings, she explained:
“I’m selling off a bunch of cattle. Be
nito is rounding them up and cutting
out flip best ones.”
mu net-p mem, i reoKon,
"Always. That’s how I improve the
grade. You will see a splendid herd
of animals, Mr. Law—the best In
%>uth Texas. I suppose you’re inter
ested in such things.”
“I’d rather wateh a good herd or
stock than the best show in New
York,” he told her.
When they came to the corrals, nrr
intricate series of pens and chutes at
the reur of the outbuildings, Law ho
held two thoroughbred horses standing
at the hitching rail.
“I'm proud of my horses, too,” soldi
Alalre.
“You have reason to be.” With his
eyes alight, Dave examined the fine
points of both animals. He ran a ca
ressing hand over them, and they rec
ognized in him a friend.
“These beauties were raised on*
Kentucky Wuegrass. Brother and sis
ter. aren't they?”
“Yes. Montrose and Montrosa are*
their names. The horse Is tnlup. the
mnre Is yours.” Seeing that Dave did
not comprehend the full import of tier
words, she added: “Ynurs to keep,' I
mean. Y'ou must make another Bessie
Belle out of her.”
“Mine? Oh—ma’am !” Law turned'
his eyes from Alaire to the mure, then
hack again. “You’re too kind. I can’t,
take her.”
“You must.” v
Dave made as if to say something,
bnt was too deeply embarrassed. Irn
able to tear himself away from the
mare’s side, lie continued to stroke her
shining coat while she turned an intel
ligent face to him, showing a solitary
white star In the center of her fore
head.
“See! She is nearly the same color
as Bessie Belle.”
“Yes’ni! I—I want her, ma'am; Vim
just sick from wanting her, hut—wwn't
you let me buy her?”
"Oh, I wouldn t sell her. ’ Then, ns
Pave continued to yearn over the aid
inal, like a small boy tempted beyond!
his strength, Alalre laughed. "I owe
you something, Mr. Law, and a horse
more or less means very little to me."
He yielded; he could not possibly
continue his resistance, and in his
huppy face Alnire took her reward.
The mare meanwhile was doubtfully
VAcCM7/Ne<!.
' I \ ▼ |
"You Do Speak Their Language,"'
Alaire Said.
nosing her new master, O^oidfniT
whether or not she Mketl him; hut:
when lie offered her h cube of sugar,
her uncertainties dlsupitenred, an<l
they became friends then and there.
He talked to her. too. in n way that
would have won any female heart, and
It was plain to anyone who knew
horses that she begun to consider him
"h'dlv delightful,.
(Continued Next Week.)