s pride; while he felt that her loving interest and
sympathy, so tremendously manifested, was in itself a debt he would
always rejoice in because he never could hope to repay it, it did irk
him to be placed in the position of never being able to admit his
knowledge of her action. He prayed that Bill Conway would be enabled
to complete the dam as per his contract; that Judge Morton would then
rush to trial Conway's suit for damages against Parker for
non-performance of contract; that Conway would be enabled immediately
to reimburse himself through Parker's assets which he had attached,
repay Kay and close the transaction.

On November fifteenth Danny Leighton announced that Panchito was "right
on edge" and, with a few weeks of experience in professional company,
fit to make the race of his career. The winter meeting was already on
at Tia Juana and, with Farrel's consent, Panchito was lovingly
deposited in a well-padded crate mounted on a motor truck and
transported to El Toro. Here he was loaded in an express car and,
guarded by Don Mike, shipped not to Tia Juana, as Parker and his
trainer both supposed he would be, but to San Diego, sixteen miles
north of the international boundary--a change of plan originating with
Farrel and by him kept a secret from Parker and Danny Leighton. With
Panchito went an ancient Saratoga trunk, Pablo Artelan, and little
Allesandro Trujillo, ragged and bare-footed as usual.

Upon arriving in San Diego Don Mike unloaded Panchito at the Santa Fe
depot. Gone now were the leg bandages and the beautiful blanket with
which Danny Leighton had furnished Panchito at starting. These things
proclaimed the race-horse, and that was not part of Don Mike's plan.
He led the animal to a vacant lot a few blocks from the depot and,
leaving him there in charge of Pablo, went up town to the Mexican
consulate and procured passports into Baja California for himself and
Allesandro. From the consulate he went to a local stock-yard and
purchased a miserable, flea-bitten, dejected saddle mule, together with
a dilapidated old stock saddle with a crupper, and a well-worn
horse-hair hackamore.

Returning to the depot, he procured his old Saratoga trunk from the
station master and removed from it the beautiful black-leather,
hand-carved, silver-mounted stock saddle he had won at a _rodeo_ some
years previous; a pair of huge, heavy, solid silver Mexican spurs, with
tan carved-leathern straps, and a finely plaited