n simulated
anger and nipped at her sleeve. "Straighten your ears up, pronto!" she
commanded, nevertheless laughing. Then a strain of her father's blood
was apparent as she seized the reins and stood back from the horse.
"Because you're bluffing this morning, I'm going to make you do your
latest trick. Down!" she commanded. The pony extended his foreleg and
begged to shake hands. "No! Down!" With a grunt the horse dropped to
his knees, rolled to his side, but still kept his head raised. "Clear
down! Dead, Challenge!" The horse lay with extended neck, but
switched his tail significantly. "Don't you dare roll!" she said, as
he gave evidence of getting up. Then, at her gesture, he heaved
himself to his feet and shook himself till the stirrups clattered. The
girl dropped the reins and turned to the old herder. "I taught him
that, Fernando. I didn't make him do it just to show off. He
understands now, and he'll behave."

Old Fernando grinned. "He always have the good manner, being always
with the Senorita," he said bowing.

"Thanks, Fernando. You always say something nice. But I can't let you
get ahead of me. What a pretty scarf. It's just right. Do you wear
it always, Fernando?"

"It is--I know--what the vaquero of the Concho call the 'josh' that you
give me, but I am yet not too old to like it. It is muy pleasure, si!
to be noticed when one is old--by the Senorita of especial."

The girl's dark eyes flashed and she laughed happily. "It's lots of
fun, isn't it--to 'josh'? But I came to see if you needed anything."

"Nothing while still the Senorita is at thees camp."

"Well, you'd better think up something, for I'm going in a minute.
Have to make the rounds. Dad is down with the rheumatism and as cross
as a grizzly. I was glad to get away. And then, there's Madre."

Fernando smiled and nodded. He was not unfamiliar with the patron's
temper when rheumatism obliged him to be inactive. "He say nothing,
the patron--that we cross the sheep to the west of the river, Senorita?"

"No. Not lately. I don't know why he should want to. The feed is
good here."

"I have this morning talk with the vaquero Corlees. He tell me that
the South Fork is dry up."

"John Corliss is not usually interested in our sheep," said the girl.

"No. Of the sheep he knows nothing." And the old herder smiled. "But
many times he look out there," he added, pointing toward the Loring
rancho.

"He was afraid fa