"We always lived each day as if it were
the last, you know. But over in Siberia, far removed from all my
easy-going associations, both inherited and acquired, I commenced
dreaming of possibilities in the Agua Caliente basin."
"Well then, since you insist, let's go over there and have your
curiosity satiated," Parker agreed, with the best grace possible.
[Illustration: Here amidst the golden romance of the old mission, the
girl suddenly understood Don Mike.]
While the Parkers returned to the hacienda to change into their
riding-clothes, Miguel Farrel strolled over to the corral where Pablo
Artelan, wearing upon his leathery countenance the closest imitation of
a smile that had ever lighted that dark expanse, joined him and, with
Farrel, leaned over the corral fence and gazed at the horses within.
For a long time, neither spoke; then, while his glance still appraised
the horses, Don Mike stiffened a thumb and drove it with considerable
force into Pablo's ancient ribs. Carolina, engaged in hanging out the
Parker wash in the yard of her _casa_, observed Don Mike bestow this
infrequent accolade of approbation and affection, and her heart swelled
with pride. Ah, yes; it was good to have the child back on the rancho
again.
Carolina and Pablo had never heard that the ravens fed Elijah; they had
never heard of Elijah. Nevertheless, if they had, they would not have
envied him the friendship of those divinely directed birds, for the
Farrels had always fed Pablo and Carolina and their numerous brood, now
raised and scattered over the countryside.
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