but
something tasty; red, white and blue, mebby--a real American windmill,
and in the front of the house a flagpole with the American flag. And
he would keep the sign "American Hotel" above the gate. There was
nothin' like bein' paterotic. Mexican ranches--some of 'em--was purty
enough in a lazy kind of style, but he was goin' to let folks know that
a white man was runnin' the water-hole ranch!

And all unknown to him, Anita stood in the doorway of one of the
herder's 'dobes, more than ever impressed by the evident importance of
her beau-ideal of chivalry, who took the kick of horses as a matter of
course, and rose smilingly from such indignities to present flowers to
her with eyes which spake of love and lips that expressed, as best they
could, admiration. Anita was a bit disappointed and perhaps a bit
pleased that he had not as yet seen her. As it was she could worship
from a distance that lent security to her tender embarrassment. The
tall one must, indeed, be a great caballero to be made welcome at the
patron's home. Assuredly he was not as the other vaqueros who visited
the patron. _He_ sat upon the veranda and smoked in a lordly way,
while they inevitably held forth in the less conspicuous latitude of
the bunk-house and its environs. Anita was happy.

Sundown, elated by the righteousness of his mission as harbinger of
peace, met Loring returning from one of the camps with gracious
indifference to the other's gruff welcome.

They sat at the table and ate in silence for a while. With the
refreshing coffee Sundown's embarrassment melted. His weird command of
language, enhanced by the opportunity for exercise in a good cause,
astonished and eventually interested his hearers. He did not approach
his subject directly, but mounted the metaphorical steps of his rostrum
leisurely. He discoursed on the opportunities afforded by the almost
limitless free range. He hinted at the possibility of internecine
strife eventually awakening the cupidity of "land-sharks" all over the
country. If there was land worth killing folks for, there was land
worth stealing. If the Concho Valley was once thrown open to
homesteaders, then farewell free range and fat cattle and sheep. And
the mention of sheep led him to remark that there was a small band at
the water-hole, uncared-for save by himself. "And he was no sheep-man,
but he sure hated to see any critters sufferin' for water, so he had
allowed the sheep to drink at t