encouraged them to buck whenever our guest was sighted on the gallery.  What gave special vim to our work was the fact that Miss Frances was a horsewoman herself, and it was with difficulty that she could be kept away from the corrals.  Several times a day our guest prevailed on Uncle Lance to take her out to witness the roping.  From a safe vantage place on the palisades, the old ranchero and his protege would watch us catching, saddling, and mounting the geldings.  Under those bright eyes, lariats encircled the feet of the horse to be ridden deftly indeed, and he was laid on his side in the sand as daintily as a mother would lay her babe in its crib.  Outside of the trio, the work of the gang was bunglesome, calling for many a protest from Uncle Lance,—­they had no lady’s glance to spur them on,—­while ours merited the enthusiastic plaudits of Miss Frances.

[Illustration:  GAVE THE WILDEST HORSES THEIR HEADS]

Then came Sunday and we observed the commandment.  Miss Jean had planned a picnic for the day on the river.  We excused Tiburcio, and pressed the ambulance team into service to convey the party of six for the day’s outing among the fine groves of elm that bordered the river in several places, and afforded ample shade from the sun.  The day was delightfully spent.  The chaperons were negligent and dilatory.  Uncle Lance even fell asleep for several hours.  But when we returned at twilight, the ambulance mules were garlanded as if for a wedding party.

The next morning our guest was to depart, and to me fell the pleasant task of acting as her escort.  Uncle Lance prevailed on Miss Frances to ride a spirited chestnut horse from his mount, while I rode a grulla from my own.  We made an early start, the old ranchero riding with us as far as the river.  As he held the hand of Miss Vaux in parting, he cautioned her not to detain me at their ranch, as he had use for me at Las Palomas.  “Of course,” said he, “I don’t mean that you shall hurry him right off to-day or even to-morrow.  But these lazy rascals of mine will hang around a girl a week, if she’ll allow it.  Had John or Theodore taken you home, I shouldn’t expect to see either of them in a fortnight.  Now, if they don’t treat you right at home, come back and live with us.  I’ll adopt you as my daughter.  And tell your pa that the first general rain that falls, I’m coming over with my hounds for a cat hunt with him.  Good-by, sweetheart.”

It was a delightful ride across to the Frio.  Mounted on two splendid horses, we put the Nueces behind us as the hours passed.  Frequently we met large strings of cattle drifting in towards the river for their daily drink, and Miss Frances insisted on riding through the cows, noticing every brand as keenly as a vaquero on the lookout for strays from her father’s ranch.  The young calves scampered out of our way, but their sedate mothers permitted us to ride near enough to read the brands as we met and passed.  Once we rode a mile out of our way to look at a manada.  The stallion met us as we approached as if to challenge all intruders on his domain, but we met him defiantly and he turned aside and permitted us to examine his harem and its frolicsome colts.