During the remainder of the afternoon, in view of the possibility that Esther might take her sister, Mrs. Martin, into our secret and win her as an ally, I cultivated that lady’s acquaintance, dancing with her and leaving nothing undone to foster her friendship.  Near the middle of the afternoon, as the three sisters, Miss Jean, and I were indulging in light refreshment at a booth some distance from the dancing arbor, I sighted my employer, Dan Happersett, and the two stage men returning from the store.  They passed near, not observing us, and from the defiant tones of Uncle Lance’s voice, I knew they had been tampering with the ‘private stock’ of the merchant at Shepherd’s.  “Why, gentlemen,” said he, “that ambulance team is no exception to the quality of mules I’m raising at Las Palomas.  Drive up some time and spend a few days and take a look at the stock we’re breeding.  If you will, and I don’t show you fifty mules fourteen and a half hands or better, I’ll round up five hundred head and let you pick fifty as a pelon for your time and trouble.  Why, gentlemen, Las Palomas has sold mules to the government.”

On the return of our party to the arbor, Happersett claimed a dance with Esther, thus freeing me.  Uncle Lance was standing some little distance away, still entertaining the mail contractors, and I edged near enough to notice Oxenford’s florid face and leery eye.  But on my employer’s catching sight of me, he excused himself to the stage men, and taking my arm led me off.  Together we promenaded out of sight of the crowd.  “How do you like my style of a man herder?” inquired the old matchmaker, once we were out of hearing.  “Why, Tom, I’d have held those mail thieves until dark, if Dan hadn’t drifted in and given me the wink.  Shepherd kicked like a bay steer on letting me have a second quart bottle, but it took that to put the right glaze in the young Yank’s eye.  Oh, I had him going south all right!  But tell me, how did you and Esther make it?”

We had reached a secluded spot, and, seating ourselves on an old fallen tree trunk, I told of my success, even to the using of his horse.  Never before or since did I see Uncle Lance give way to such a fit of hilarity as he indulged in over the perfect working out of our plans.  With his hat he whipped me, the ground, the log on which we sat, while his peals of laughter rang out like the reports of a rifle.  In his fit of ecstasy, tears of joy streaming from his eyes, he kept repeating again and again, “Oh, sister, run quick and tell pa to come!”

As we neared the grounds returning, he stopped me and we had a further brief confidential talk together.  I was young and egotistical enough to think that I could defy all the rivals in existence, but he cautioned me, saying:  “Hold on, Tom.  You’re young yet; you know nothing about the weaker sex, absolutely nothing.  It’s not your fault, but due to your mere raw youth.  Now, listen to me, son:  Don’t underestimate any rival,