“I’ll tell Jack,” he said, as he started for the stables.  “I guess he’ll do it, all right.”

CHAPTER XIII

BILL WILSON GOES VISITING

“I Don’t know what you’ve been doing to Jose Pacheco, lately,” was Dade’s way of broaching the subject, “but Don Andres asked me to ‘persuade’ you not to go on rodeo, on account of some trouble between you and Jose.”

“He wants my scalp, is all,” Jack explained easily, picking burrs from the fringe of his sash—­burrs he had gotten when he ran a race with Teresita from the farther side of the orchard to the spring, a short time before.  “Valencia told me—­and he got it from Manuel—­that Jose is right on the warpath.  If it wasn’t for his being laid up—­”

“Oh, I know.  You’d like to go over and have it out with him.  But you can’t.  The Pachecos and the Picardos are almost like one family.  I don’t suppose Jose ever stayed away from here so long since he was a baby, as he has since we came.  It’s bad enough to keep old friends away, without mixing up a quarrel.  Have you seen Jose lately?  Don Andres seemed to think so, but I told him you’d have said something about it to me if you had.”

“I met him in the trail, a week or so ago,” Jack admitted with manifest reluctance.  “He wasn’t overly friendly, but there wasn’t any real trouble, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”  He looked sidelong at the other, saw the hurt in Dade’s eyes at this evidence of the constraint growing intangibly between them, and laughed defiantly.

“Upon my soul!” he exclaimed, “one would think I was simple-minded, the way you act!  D’you think a man never scowled my way before?  D’you think I’m afraid of Jose?  D’you think I don’t know enough to take care of myself?  What the devil do you think?  Can’t go on rodeo—­you’re afraid I might get hurt!  I ain’t crazy to go, for that matter; but I don’t know as I relish this guardian-angel stunt you’re playing.  You’ve got your hands full without that.  You needn’t worry about me; I’ve managed to squeak along so far without getting my light put out—­”

“By being a tolerably fair shot, yes,” Dade assented, his face hardening a little under the injustice.  “But since I’m hired to look after Don Andres’ interests, you’re going to do what I tell you.  You’ll stay here and boss the peons while I’m gone.  A friendship between two families that has lasted as many years as you are old, ain’t going to be busted up now, if I can help it.  It’s strained to the snapping-point right now, just because the don is friendly with us gringos.  Of course, we can’t help that.  He had his ideas on the subject before he ever saw me or you.  Just the same, it’s up to us not to do the snapping; and I know one gringo that’s going to behave himself if I have to take him down and set on him!”

“Whee-ee!  Somebody else is hitting the war-post, if I know the signs!” Dade stirred to anger always tickled Jack immensely, perhaps because of its very novelty, and restored him to good humor.  “Have it your own way, then, darn you!  I don’t want to go on rodeo, nohow.”