mber. On an open range like ours, it was not
expected that everything would be branded; but on quitting, it is safe
to say we had missed less than one per cent of our calf crop.

The cattle finished, we turned our attention to the branding of the
horse stock. The Christmas season was approaching, and we wanted to get
the work well in hand for the usual holiday festivities. There were some
fifty _manadas_ of mares belonging to Las Palomas, about one fourth of
which were used for the rearing of mules, the others growing our saddle
horses for ranch use. These bands numbered twenty to twenty-five brood
mares each, and ranged mostly within twenty miles of the home ranch.
They were never disturbed except to brand the colts, market surplus
stock, or cut out the mature geldings to be broken for saddle use. Each
_manada_ had its own range, never trespassing on others, but when they
were brought together in the corral there was many a battle royal among
the stallions.

I was anxious to get the work over in good season, for I intended to ask
for a two weeks' leave of absence. My parents lived near Cibollo Ford on
the San Antonio River, and I made it a rule to spend Christmas with my
own people. This year, in particular, I had a double motive in going
home; for the mouth of San Miguel and the McLeod ranch lay directly on
my route. I had figured matters down to a fraction; I would have a good
excuse for staying one night going and another returning. And it would
be my fault if I did not reach the ranch at an hour when an invitation
to remain over night would be simply imperative under the canons of
Texas hospitality. I had done enough hard work since the dance at
Shepherd's to drive every thought of Esther McLeod out of my mind if
that were possible, but as the time drew nearer her invitation to call
was ever uppermost in my thoughts.

So when the last of the horse stock was branded and the work was drawing
to a close, as we sat around the fireplace one night and the question
came up where each of us expected to spend Christmas, I broached my
plan. The master and mistress were expected at the Booth ranch on the
Frio. Nearly all the boys, who had homes within two or three days' ride,
hoped to improve the chance to make a short visit to their people. When,
among the others, I also made my application for leave of absence, Uncle
Lance turned in his chair with apparent surprise. "What's that? You want
to go home? Well, now, that's a n