locked, and they lifted the latch and tiptoed inside.
Up past the stalls they crept with cat-like
stealth, gained the door leading into the corral,
came to a pause, and gazed outside. The horse
was still in his corner, his black coat glistening
in the sunlight, and Felipe once more burst into
comment, excited, but carefully subdued.

"A-fine! A-fine!" he breathed, rapturously.
"He's lookin' joost lak a circus horse! You know,
Franke," he added, turning to the other, "I haf
see thee pictures on thee fences--" He interrupted
himself, for the man had disappeared.
"Franke!" he called, whispering. "You coom
here. You all thee time--" He checked himself
and smiled at the other's forethought. For Franke
was emerging from a stall, carrying a halter.
"Good!" he murmured. "I am forgettin' thot,
_compadre_!" Then once more he turned admiring
eyes upon the horse. "Never -- _never_ -- haf I see
a horse lak thot! Mooch good luck is comin'
now, Franke! Why not?"

They stepped bravely forth into the corral.
Yet their hour had been well timed. The house
was still, quiet in its morning affairs, while the
countryside around, wrapped in pulsating quiet,
gave off not a sound. Cautiously approaching
the horse, Franke slipped the halter into position,
the while Felipe once more uttered his admiration.
He was a little more direct and personal, however,
this time.

"Well, you black devil!" he began, doubling
his fist under Pat's nose. "You haf run away

[[89]]

p088 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p089w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p090

v?