I dare say we shall meet again in the very near
future, and when we do, I am going to arrange matters so that I may
have the honor of being properly introduced." He pocketed his change.
"Until some day in the San Gregorio, then," he finished, "_adios_!"
Despite his smile, her woman's intuition told her that something more
poignant than the threatened Japanese invasion of the San Gregorio
valley had cast a shadow over his sunny soul. She concluded it must
have been the news of the death of his childhood chum, the beloved Don
Mike.
"What a wonderful fellow Don Mike must have been!" she mused. "White
men sing his praises, and Indians and mixed breeds cry them. No wonder
this ex-soldier plans to outbid me for Panchito. He attaches a
sentimental value to the horse because of his love for poor Don Mike.
I wonder if I ought to bid against him under the circumstances. Poor
dear! He wants his buddy's horse so badly. He's really very nice--so
old-fashioned and sincere. And he's dreadfully good-looking."
"Nature was overgenerous with that young lady," Farrel decided, as he
made his way up to the smoking-car. "As a usual thing, she seldom
dispenses brains with beauty--and this girl has both. I wonder who she
can be? Well, she's too late for Panchito. She may have any other
horse on the ranch, but--"
He glanced down at the angry red scar on the back of his right hand and
remembered.
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