"I have been told she is beautiful."

"Beauty is in the beholder's eyes, _señor_. Valencia Valdés is as Heaven
made her."

"I have no doubt; but Heaven took more pains with some of us than
others--it appears."

Again the dark eyes under the long lashes swept him from the curly head
to the lean, muscular hands, and approved silently the truth of his
observation. The clean lithe build of the man, muscles packed so that
they rippled smoothly like those of a panther, appealed to her trained
eyes. So, too, did the quiet, steady eyes in the bronzed face, holding
as they did the look of competent alertness that had come from years of
frontier life.

"You are interested in Miss Valdés?" she asked politely.

"In a way of speaking, I am. She is one of the reasons why I came here."

"Indeed! She would no doubt be charmed to know of your interest," still
with polite detachment.

"My interest ain't exactly personal; then again it is," he contributed.

"A sort of an impersonal personal interest?"

"Yes; though I don't quite know what that means."