The master became thus aware for the first time that the elder Bromly girl, in “the sincerest form of flattery” to her idol, was wearing a yellow rose in her tawny locks, and, further, that Master Bromly with exquisite humor had burlesqued his sister’s imitation with a very small carrot stuck above his left ear.  This the master promptly removed, adding an additional sum to the humorist’s already overflowing slate by way of penance, and returned to Concha.  “But wouldn’t you like to be as clever as she?—­you can if you will only learn.”

“What for should I?  Look you; she has a devotion for the tall one—­the boy Brown!  Ah!  I want him not.”

Yet, notwithstanding this lack of noble ambition, Concha seemed to have absorbed the “devotion” of the boys, big and little, and as the master presently discovered even that of many of the adult population.  There were always loungers on the bridle path at the opening and closing of school, and the vaquero, who now always accompanied her, became an object of envy.  Possibly this caused the master to observe him closely.  He was tall and thin, with a smooth complexionless face, but to the master’s astonishment he had the blue gray eye of the higher or Castilian type of native Californian.  Further inquiry proved that he was a son of one of the old impoverished Spanish grant holders whose leagues and cattle had been mortgaged to the Hoovers, who now retained the son to control the live stock “on shares.”  “It looks kinder ez ef he might hev an eye on that poorty little gal when she’s an age to marry,” suggested a jealous swain.  For several days the girl submitted to her school tasks with her usual languid indifference and did not again transgress the ordinary rules.  Nor did Mr. Brooks again refer to their hopeless conversation.  But one afternoon he noticed that in the silence and preoccupation of the class she had substituted another volume for her text-book and was perusing it with the articulating lips of the unpracticed reader.  He demanded it from her.  With blazing eyes and both hands thrust into her desk she refused and defied him.  Mr. Brooks slipped his arms around her waist, quietly lifted her from the bench—­feeling her little teeth pierce the back of his hand as he did so, but secured the book.  Two of the elder boys and girls had risen with excited faces.

“Sit down!” said the master sternly.

They resumed their places with awed looks.  The master examined the book.  It was a little Spanish prayer book.  “You were reading this?” he said in her own tongue.

“Yes.  You shall not prevent me!” she burst out.  “Mother of God!  They will not let me read it at the ranch.  They would take it from me.  And now you!”

“You may read it when and where you like, except when you should be studying your lessons,” returned the master quietly.  “You may keep it here in your desk and peruse it at recess.  Come to me for it then.  You are not fit to read it now.”