w old is your father, Farrel?"

"Seventy-eight."

"And he rides a horse!"

"He does worse than that." Farrel laughed. "He rides a horse that would
police you, sir. On his seventieth birthday, at a rodeo, he won first
prize for roping and hog-tying a steer."

"I'd like to meet that father of yours, Farrel."

"You'd like him. Any time you want to spend a furlough on the Palomar,
we'll make you mighty welcome. Better come in the fall for the
quail-shooting." He glanced at his wrist-watch and sighed. "Well, I
suppose I'd do well to be toddling along. Is the captain going to remain
in the service?"

The captain nodded.

"My people are hell-benders on conforming to custom, also," he added.
"We've all been field-artillerymen.

"I believe I thanked you for a favor you did me once, but to prove I
meant what I said, I'm going to send you a horse, sir. He is a chestnut
with silver points, five years old, sixteen hands high, sound as a
Liberty Bond, and bred in the purple. He is beautifully reined, game,
full of ginger, but gentle and sensible. He'll weigh ten hundred in
condition, and he's as active as a cat. You can win with him at any
horse-show and at the head of a battery. _Dios_! He is every inch a
_caballero_!"

"Sergeant, you're much too kind. Really--"

"The things we have been through together, sir--all that we have been to
each other--never can happen again. You will add greatly to my happiness
if you will accept this animal as a souvenir of our very pleasant
association."

"Oh, son, this is too much! You're giving me your own private mount.
You love him. He loves you. Doubtless he'll know you the minute you
enter the pasture."

Farrel's fine white teeth, flashed in a brilliant smile, "I do not desire
to have the captain mounted on an inferior horse. We have many other
good horses on the Palomar. This one's name is Panchito; I will express
him to you some day this week."

"Farrel, you quite overwhelm me. A thousand thanks! I'll treasure
Panchito for your sake as well as his own."

The soldier extended his hand, and the captain grasped it.

"Good-by, Sergeant. Pleasant green fields!"

"Good-by, sir. Dry camps and quick promotion."

The descendant of a _conquistador_ picked up his straw suitcase, his
helmet, and gas-mask. At the door, he stood to attention, and saluted.
The captain leaped to his feet and returned this salutation of warriors;
the door opened and closed, and t