he recognized none which had not the
approval of his own conscience. Where others were content to follow, he
blazed his own pathways--immaterial to him whether they were followed by
others or even noticed. In his business relations and in his own way, he
was exact himself and likewise exacting of others. Some there are who
might criticise him for an episode which occurred about four years after
my advent at Las Palomas.

Mr. Whitley Booth, a younger man and a brother-in-law of the old
ranchero by his first wife, rode into the ranch one evening, evidently
on important business. He was not a frequent caller, for he was also a
ranchman, living about forty miles north and west on the Frio River, but
was in the habit of bringing his family down to the Nueces about twice a
year for a visit of from ten days to two weeks' duration. But this time,
though we had been expecting the family for some little time, he came
alone, remained over night, and at breakfast ordered his horse, as if
expecting to return at once. The two ranchmen were holding a conference
in the sitting-room when a Mexican boy came to me at the corrals and
said I was wanted in the house. On my presenting myself, my employer
said: "Tom, I want you as a witness to a business transaction. I'm
lending Whit, here, a thousand dollars, and as we have never taken any
notes between us, I merely want you as a witness. Go into my room,
please, and bring out, from under my bed, one of those largest bags of
silver."

The door was unlocked, and there, under the ranchero's bed,
dust-covered, were possibly a dozen sacks of silver. Finding one tagged
with the required amount, I brought it out and laid it on the table
between the two men. But on my return I noticed Uncle Lance had turned
his chair from the table and was gazing out of the window, apparently
absorbed in thought. I saw at a glance that he was gazing into the past,
for I had become used to these reveries on his part. I had not been
excused, and an embarrassing silence ensued, which was only broken as he
looked over his shoulder and said: "There it is, Whit; count it if you
want to."

But Mr. Booth, knowing the oddities of Uncle Lance, hesitated.
"Well--why--Look here, Lance. If you have any reason for not wanting to
loan me this amount, why, say so."

"There's the money, Whit; take it if you want to. It'll pay for the
hundred cows you are figuring on buying. But I was just thinking: can
two men at our time of l