a waiter at 'El Monico,' up in Chihuahua, he hit me
in the face!"

"Give Camilla the roan mare," Demetrio ordered Pan-
cracio, who was already saddling the horses.

"Camilla can't go!" said War Paint promptly.

"Who in hell asked for your opinion?" Demetrio re-
torted angrily.

"It's true, isn't it, Camilla? You were sore all over,
weren't you? And you've got a fever right now?"

"Well--anything Demetrio says."

"Don't be a fool! say 'No,' come on, say 'No,"' War
Paint whispered nervously into Camilla's ear.

"I'll tell you, War Paint. . . . It's funny, but I'm be-
ginning to fall for him. . . . Would you believe it!" Ca-
milla whispered back.

War Paint turned purple, her cheeks swelled. Without
a word she went out to get her horse that Blondie was
saddling.



IX