day, but _manana_----"

"To-morrow they will be higher. It's just a matter of arithmetic,
Fernando. There are seventeen million less cattle in the country than
there were eight years ago. The government reports say so. Our
population is steadily increasing. The people must eat. Since there are
fewer cattle they must pay more for their meat. We shall have meat to
sell. Is that not simple?"

"_Si, Dona_, but----"

"But in the main we have always been sheep-herders, so we ought always
to be? We'll run cattle and sheep, too, Fernando. We'll make this ranch
pay as it never has before."

"But the feed--the winter feed, _Senorita_?"

"We'll have to raise our feed. I'm going to send for engineers and find
what it will cost to impound, water in the _cordilleras_ and run ditches
into the valley. We ought to be watering thousands of acres for alfalfa
and grain that now are dry."

"It never has been done--not in the time of Don Alvaro or even in that
of Don Bartolome."

"And so you think it never can?" she asked, with a smile.

"The Rio Chama Valley is grazing land. It is not for agriculture.
Everybody knows that," he insisted doggedly.

"Everybody knows we were given two legs with which to walk, but it is an
economy to ride. So we use horses."

Fernando shrugged his shoulders. Of what use to argue with the _dona_
when her teeth were set? She was a Valdes, and so would have her way.

That had been a year ago. Now the ditches were built. Fields had been
planted to alfalfa and grain. Soon the water would be running through
the laterals to irrigate the growing crops. Quietly the young woman at
the head of things was revolutionizing the life of the valley by
transforming it from a pastoral to a farming community.

This morning, having arranged with the major domo the work of the day,
Valencia appeared on the porch dressed for riding. She was going to see
the water turned on to the new ditches from the north lateral.

The young mistress of the ranch swung astride the horse that had just
been brought from the stables, for she rode man-fashion after the
sensible custom of the West. Before riding out of the plaza she stopped
to give Pedro some directions about a bunch of yearlings in the corral.

The mailman in charge of the R.F.D. route drove into the yard and handed
Valencia a bunch of letters and papers. One of the pieces given her was
a rather fat package for which she had to sign a registry receipt.

She handed the m