"Those Mexicans at the little-goat ranch."

"Balli. So you walked in from Arroyo Grande. Lord! It's a good ten
miles straightaway, and I reckon you came crooked. Eh?"

"Yes. And it was very hot. I was never here but once, and--the
country looks different when you're afoot."

"It certainly does," the man nodded. Then he continued, musingly:
"No water there, eh? I figured there might be a little." The fact
appeared to please him, for he nodded again as he went on with his
meal. "Not much rain down here, I reckon."

"Very little. Where are you from?"

"Me? Hebbronville. My name is Law."

Evidently, thought the woman, this fellow belonged to the East
outfit, or some of the other big cattle-ranches in the
Hebbronville district. Probably he was a range boss or a foreman.
After a time she said, "I suppose the nearest ranch is that Balli
place?"

"Yes'm."

"I'd like to borrow your horse."

Mr. Law stared into his plate. "Well, miss, I'm afraid--"

She added, hastily, "I'll send you a fresh one by Balli's boy in