Part 107 (2/2)

”Excuse me, senorita,” said he, his glance directed more upon her steed than herself; ”I know it's very rude thus to interrupt your ride; especially on the part of a stranger, as with sorrow I am compelled to call myself.”

”It needs no apology, senor. If I'm not mistaken, we have met before-- upon the prairie, out near the Nueces.”

”True--true!” stammered Calhoun, not caring to dwell upon the remembrance. ”It was not of that encounter I wished to speak; but what I saw afterwards, as you came galloping along the cliff. We all wondered what became of you.”

”There was not much cause for wonder, cavallero. The shot which some of your people fired from below, disembarra.s.sed me of my pursuers. I saw that they had turned back, and simply continued my journey.”

Calhoun exhibited no chagrin at being thus baffled. The theme upon which he designed to direct his discourse had not yet turned up; and in it he might be more successful.

What it was might have been divined from his glance--half _connoisseur_, half horse-jockey--still directed toward the steed of Isidora.

”I do not say, senorita, that I was one of those who wondered at your sudden disappearance. I presumed you had your own reasons for not coming on to us; and, seeing you ride as you did, I felt no fear for your safety. It was your riding that astonished me, as it did all of my companions. Such a horse you had! He appeared to glide, rather than gallop! If I mistake not, it's the same you are now _astride of_. Am I right, senora? Pardon me for asking such an insignificant question.”

”The same? Let me see? I make use of so many. I think I was riding this horse upon that day. Yes, yes; I am sure of it. I remember how the brute betrayed me.”

”Betrayed you! How?”

”Twice he did it. Once as you and your people were approaching. The second time, when the Indians--_ay Dios_! not Indians, as I've since heard--were coming through the chapparal.”

”But how?”

”By neighing. He should not have done it. He's had training enough to know better than that. No matter. Once I get him back to the Rio Grande he shall stay there. I shan't ride _him_ again. He shall return to his Pastures.”

”Pardon me, senorita, for speaking to you on such a subject; but I can't help thinking that it's a pity.”

”What's a pity?”

”That a steed so splendid as that should be so lightly discarded. I would give much to possess him.”

”You are jesting, cavallero. He is nothing beyond the common; perhaps a little pretty, and quick in his paces. My father has five thousand of his sort--many of them prettier, and, no doubt, some faster than he.

He's a good roadster; and that's why I'm riding him now. If it weren't that I'm on my way home to the Rio Grande, and the journey is still before me, you'd be welcome to have him, or anybody else who cared for him, as you seem to do. Be still, _musteno mio_! You see there's somebody likes you better than I do.”

The last speech was addressed to the mustang, who, like its rider, appeared impatient for the conversation to come to a close.

Calhoun, however, seemed equally desirous of prolonging, or, at all events, bringing it to a different termination.

”Excuse me, senorita,” said he, a.s.suming an air of businesslike earnestness, at the same time speaking apologetically; ”if that be all the value you set upon the grey mustang, I should be only too glad to make an exchange with you. My horse, if not handsome, is estimated by our Texan dealers as a valuable animal. Though somewhat slow in his paces, I can promise that he will carry you safely to your home, and will serve you well afterwards.”

”What, senor!” exclaimed the lady, in evident astonishment, ”exchange your grand American _frison_ for a Mexican mustang! The offer is too generous to appear other than a jest. You know that on the Rio Grande one of your horses equals in value at least three, sometimes six, of ours?”

Calhoun knew this well enough; but he knew also that the mustang ridden by Isidora would be to him worth a whole stableful of such brutes as that he was bestriding. He had been an eye-witness to its speed, besides having heard of it from others. It was the thing he stood in need of--the very thing. He would have given, not only his ”grand _frison_” in exchange, but the full price of the mustang by way of ”boot.”

Fortunately for him, there was no attempt at extortion. In the composition of the Mexican maiden, however much she might be given to equestrian tastes, there was not much of the ”coper.” With five thousand horses in the paternal stables, or rather straying over the patrimonial plains, there was but slight motive for sharp practice; and why should she deny such trifling gratification, even though the man seeking it was a stranger--perhaps an enemy?

She did not.

”If you are in earnest, senor,” was her response, ”you are welcome to what you want.”

”I am in earnest, senorita.”

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