overlooking the corral. She saw the Mexican
bridle and saddle her pride, saw him carefully
tuck away her note, and saw him mount Pat with
a great show of importance, as though elated with
his commission. Then she saw him ride Pat out
of the corral, across into the river trail, and turn
toward town. Seeing her horse go from her, perhaps
for all time, she turned from the window
and flung herself across her bed, where she gave
way to her grief. Her Pat was gone! Her Pat -- heart
of her life -- was gone!

Miguel was indeed pleased with his commission.
Never before had he been astride this so-wonderful
horse. As he rode along, testing the
ease of Pat's gait, noting with what readiness he
responded to the reins, he fell to wishing that it
were not so near dusk, since then he might become
the object of envious eyes in town. But he
could not control the hour of day, even though
he could control the horse's movements. So he
cantered along until he reached the town proper,
when he slowed Pat into a walk. Lights were
being switched on along the avenue, and in their
glare he enjoyed to the full whatever admiring
glances were turned his way from the sidewalks.
But as he neared the hotel where Stephen was stopping
he urged Pat into a canter first, then into
a gallop, pulling up before the side entrance with
a quick reining that brought both the horse and
himself to a stop with a magnificent flourish.
It was good -- as he admitted to himself. Then
he slipped to earth. And now his magnificence

[[149]]

p148 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p149w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p150

v?