to force a wounded ex-service-man to pay a high price for his
sentiment."

"Oh, I understand now," her father assured her. "Very well, little
daughter; I have my orders and will obey them."

"Precious old darling!" she whispered, gratefully, and pursed her
adorable lips to indicate to him that he might consider himself kissed.
His stern eyes softened in a glance of father-love supreme.

"Whose little girl are you?" he whispered, and, to that ancient query
of parenthood, she gave the reply of childhood:

"Daddy's."

"Just for that, I'll offer the soldier a tremendous profit on Panchito.
We'll see what his sentiment is worth."

"Bet you a new hat, angel-face, you haven't money enough to buy him,"
Kay challenged.

"Considering the cost of your hats, I'd be giving you rather long odds,
Kay. You say this young man comes from the San Gregorio valley?"

"So he informed me."

"Well, there isn't a young man in the San Gregorio who doesn't need a
couple of thousand dollars far worse than he needs a horse. I'll take
your bet, Peaches. Of course you mentioned to him the fact that you
wanted this horse?"