her voice, high and clear, answering, "Here, dear," as he was plunging
into the thicket.

He had scarcely reached the madrono tree again and remounted his horse,
before he heard the sound of hoofs approaching from the road. In
his present uneasiness he did not care to be discovered so near the
rendezvous, and drew back into the shadow until the horseman should
pass. It was Peyton, with a somewhat disturbed face, riding rapidly.
Still less was he inclined to join or immediately follow him, but he was
relieved when his host, instead of taking the direct road to the rancho,
through the wild oats, turned off in the direction of the corral.

A moment later Clarence wheeled into the direct road, and presently
found himself in the long afternoon shadows through the thickest of the
grain. He was riding slowly, immersed in thought, when he was suddenly
startled by a hissing noise at his ear, and what seemed to be the
uncoiling stroke of a leaping serpent at his side. Instinctively he
threw himself forward on his horse's neck, and as the animal shied
into the grain, felt the crawling scrape and jerk of a horsehair lariat
across his back and down his horse's flanks. He reined in indignantly
and stood up in his stirrups. Nothing was to be seen above the level of
the grain. Beneath him the trailing riata had as noiselessly vanished
as if it had been indeed a gliding snake. Had he been the victim of a
practical joke, or of the blunder of some stupid vacquero? For he made
no doubt that it was the lasso of one of the performers he had watched
that afternoon. But his preoccupied mind did not dwell long upon it, and
by the time he had reached the wall of the old garden, the incident was
forgotten.