Pablo leaned against the adobe wall, thoughtfully drew forth tobacco bag and brown cigarette paper and, while shaking his head and appearing to ponder Kay’s question, rolled a cigarette and lighted it.  “We-l-l, senorita,” he began presently, “I theenk first mebbeso eet ees because Don Miguel find heem one leetle piece paper on the trail.  I am see him peeck those paper up and look at heem for long time before he ride to me and ask me many question about the senorita and Senor Beel Conway those day we ride to Agua Caliente.  He say to me:  ’Pablo, you see Senor Beel Conway give to the senorita a writing?’ ‘Si, senor.’  ‘You see Senorita Parker give to Senor Beel Conway a writing?’ ’Si, senor.’  Then Don Miguel hee’s don’ say sometheeng more, but just shake hees cabeza like thees,” and Pablo gave an imitation of a muchly puzzled man wagging his head to stimulate a flow of ideas.

A faintness seized the girl.  “Didn’t he say—­anything?” she demanded sharply.

“Oh, well, yes, he say sometheeng.  He say:  ‘Well, I’bedam!’ Then that leetle smile he don’ have for long time come back to Don Miguel’s face and hee’s happy like one baby.  I don’ understand those boy ontil I see thees business”—­Pablo wiggled his tobacco-stained thumb and forefinger—­“then I know sometheeng!  For long time those boy hee’s pretty parteecular.  Even those so beautiful senorita, ’Nita Sepulvida, she don’ rope those boy like you rope it, senorita.”  And with the license of an old and trusted servant, the sage of Palomar favored her with a knowing wink.

“He knows—­he knows!” the girl thought.  “What must he think of me!  Oh, dear, oh, dear! if he mentions the subject to me I shall die.”  Tears of mortification were in her eyes as she turned angrily upon the amazed Pablo.  “You—­you—­old sky-blue idiot!” she charged and fled to her room.

CHAPTER XXVIII

Kay’s first coherent thought was to claim the privilege of her sex—­a headache—­and refrain from joining Don Mike and her parents at dinner.  Upon consideration, however, she decided that since she would have to face the issue sooner or later, she might as well be brave and not try to evade it.  For she knew now the fate of the promissory note Bill Conway had given her and which she had thrust into the pocket of her riding coat.  It had worked out of her pocket and dropped beside the trail to Agua Caliente Basin, and fate had ordained that it should be found by the one person in the world not entitled to that privilege.  Kay would have given fifty thousand dollars for some miraculous philter which, administered surreptitiously to Miguel Farrel, would cause him to forget what the girl now realized he knew of her secret negotiations with Bill Conway for the salvation of the ranch.  Nevertheless, despite her overwhelming embarrassment and distress, the question occurred to her again and again:  What would Don Miguel Farrel do about it?  She hadn’t the slightest doubt but that his tremendous pride would lead him to reject her aid and comfort, but how was he to accomplish this delicate procedure?  The situation was fraught with as much awkwardness and embarrassment for him as for her.