Toward the end of the evening, having been thoughtful for ten minutes, Elmer adopted Florrie’s tactics and remarked suddenly and in a voice to be heard much farther than his needed to carry: 

“Say, Fluff.  Saw an old friend of yours the other day.”  And when Florrie, “gun-shy” as Elmer called her, was too wise to ask any questions, he hastened on:  “Juanito Miranda it was.  Sent his best.  So did Mrs. Juanito.”

Whereupon it was Florrie’s turn to turn a scarlet of mortification and anger.  For Juanito had soft black eyes and almost equally soft black mustaches, with probably a heart to match, and only a year ago Florrie had been busied making a hero of him when he, the blind one, took unto himself an Indian bride and in all innocence heaped shame high upon the blonde head.  How Elmer unearthed such ancient history was a mystery to Florrie; but none the less she “hated” him for it.  They saw a very great deal of each other, each serving as a sort of balance-wheel to the other’s self-centred complacency.  Perhaps the one subject upon which they could agree was Jim Galloway; Elmer still liked to look upon the gambler as a colossal figure standing serene among wolves, while Florrie could admit to him, with no fear of a chiding, that she thought Mr. Galloway “simply splendid!”

When one evening, after having failed to show himself for a full month, Rod Norton came to the Engles’, found Elmer and Virginia there, and suggested the ride to the King’s Palace, he awakened no end of enthusiasm.  Elmer had a day off, thanks to the generosity of his employer, Mr. Engle, and had just secretly purchased a fresh outfit consisting of a silver-mounted Spanish bit, a new pair of white and unspeakably shaggy, draggy chaps, a wide hat with a band of snake hide, and boots that were the final whisper in high-heeled discomfort.  Florrie disappeared into her room to make her own little riding-costume as irresistible as possible.  They were to start with the first streaks of dawn to-morrow, just the four of them, since the banker and his wife, lukewarmly invited, had no desire for a forty-mile ride between morning and night.

It was Rod Norton’s privilege to lead his merry party into what for them was wonderland.  Even Florrie, though so much other life had been passed in San Juan, had never before visited the King’s Palace.  Clattering through the street while most folk were asleep, they took advantage of the cool of the dawn and rode swiftly.  Elmer and Florrie racing on ahead laid aside their accustomed weapons and were, for the once, utterly flattering to each other.  Each wishing to be admired, admired the other, and was paid back in the coveted coin.  Norton and Virginia, at first a little inclined toward silence, soon grew as noisily merry as the others, drawing deep enjoyment from the moment.