While they rode together up the valley, Jack told the details of the encounter with Jose, and declared that he was doing all that even Dade could demand of him by resisting the desire to ride down to Santa Clara and make Jose swallow his words.

“I’d have done it anyway, as soon as I brought Teresita home,” he added, with a hint of apology for his seeming weakness.  “But, darn it, I knew all the time that she made him think she was running away from me.  It did look that way, when she stopped as soon as she met him; I can’t swear right now whether Tejon was running away, or whether he was just simply running!” He laughed ruefully.  “She’s an awful little tease—­just plumb full of the old Nick, even if she does look as innocent and as meek as their pictures of the Virgin Mary.  She had us both guessing, let me tell you!  He was pretty blamed insulting, though, and I’d have licked the stuffing out of him right then and there, if she hadn’t swung in and played the joker the way she did.  Made Jose look as if he’d been doused with cold water—­and him breathing fire and brimstone the minute before.

“It was funny, I reckon—­to Teresita; we didn’t see the joke.  Every time I bring up the subject of that runaway, she laughs; but she won’t say whether it was a runaway, no matter how I sneak the question in.  So I just let it go, seeing Jose is laid up now; only, next time I bump into Jose Pacheco, he’s going to act pretty, or there’s liable to be a little excitement.

“I wish I had my pistols.  I wrote to Bill Wilson about them again, the other day; if he doesn’t send them down pretty soon, I’m going after them.”  He stopped, his attention arrested by the peculiar behavior of a herd of a hundred or more cattle, a little distance from the road.

“Now, what do you suppose is the excitement over there?” he asked; and for answer Dade turned from the trail to investigate.

“Maybe they’ve run across the carcass of a critter that’s been killed,” he hazarded, “though this is pretty close home for beef thieves to get in their work.  Most of the stock is killed north and east of Manuel’s camp.”

The cattle, moving restlessly about and jabbing their long, wicked horns at any animal that got in the way, lifted heads to stare at them suspiciously, before they turned tail and scampered off through the mustard.  From the live oak under which they had been gathered came a welcoming shout, and the two, riding under the tent-like branches, craned necks in astonishment.

“Hello, Jack,” spoke the voice again.  “I’m almighty glad to see yuh!  Hello, Dade, how are yuh?”

“Bill Wilson, by thunder!” Jack’s tone was incredulous.

Bill, roosting a good ten feet from the ground on a great, horizontal limb, flicked the ashes from the cigar he was smoking and grinned down at them unabashed.

“You sure took your time about getting here,” he remarked, hitching himself into a more comfortable posture on the rough bark.  “I’ve been praying for you, two hours and more.  Say, don’t ever talk to me about hungry wolf-packs, boys.  I’ll take ’em in preference to the meek-eyed cow-bossies, any time.”