Will
that do?"
Her raillery met his.
"That ought to do, I should think. I suppose you have brought
genealogical proofs with you?"
"I clean forgot. Won't you please get on and ride now? I feel like a
false alarm, playing the invalid on you, ma'am."
"No; I'll walk. We're almost at the ranch. It's just under this hill.
But there's one thing I want to ask of you as a favor."
"It's yours," he replied briefly.
She seemed to struggle with some emotion before she spoke:
"Please don't mention Valencia Valdes while you are at the ranch. I--I
have reasons, sir."
"Certainly; I'll do as you prefer."
To himself he thought that there was probably a feud of some kind
between the two families that might make a mention of the name
unpleasant. "And that reminds me that I don't know what your name is.
Mine is Muir--Richard Muir."
"And mine is Maria Yuste."
He offered her his brown hand. "I'm right happy to meet you, Senorita
Maria."
"Welcome to the Yuste _hacienda, senor_. What is ours is yours, so long
as you are our guest. I pray you make yourself at home," she said as
they rode into the courtyard.
Two Mexican lads came running forward; and one whom she called Pedro
took the horse, while the other went into the house to attend to a quick
command she gave in Spanish.
The man who had named himself Richard Muir followed his hostess through
a hall, across an open court, and into a living-room carpeted with
Navajo rugs, at the end of which was a great open fireplace bearing a
Spanish motto across it.
Pages:
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42