The cowboy said, "Inglés," and nodded to one of his companions, who,

with a sudden flush, said-"Thought you were a fellow-countryman. On the tramp, mate, eh? Well,

I've done that myself, and, between you and me, there's many a better

job." He filled up Derrick's mug and eyed him with friendly questioning.

"What's your line?"

"Oh, anything," said Derrick, with a smile. "Tramps can't be choosers.

You have a ranch here, I suppose?"

The other Englishman nodded.

"Yes, we're on Donna Elvira's ranch, three miles out." He jerked his

head in a westerly direction, then looked round at his mates. "Do you

think there's any room for him?"

"Might be," replied one. "He'd better go up and see Don José."

The English cowboy translated this for Derrick, adding:-"That's the overseer. Better go up and see him when you've rested and

eaten. My name's Tom Dalton; they call me Tomas, of course. What's

yours, and what's your county?"

Derrick said, "Sydney Green," and added, "London."

"Big county that," said Tom, with a grin. "Know anything about cattle?

Not much use your going to Don José if you don't."

"I've worked with them on the road a bit," replied Derrick; "and I'm

accustomed to horses."

The young man thought that Derrick might stand a chance, and again

advised him to eat and rest; and, having proffered more wine, the

cowboys presently moved off and left him alone. He engaged a bed of the

landlord, got something to eat, and was dropping off to sleep in the

moist, warm evening air, when he saw a cloud of dust rising down the

road, and presently a carriage, drawn by a pair of magnificent horses,

came tearing towards him. At the sound of the carriage the landlord

hurried out, and stood beside Derrick, waitingly. The vehicle was of

Spanish build, but had a touch of something English about it, and seated

in it was an elderly lady, dressed in the local fashion.

There was something in her appearance so arresting that Derrick woke up

fully and leant forward to peer at her; as she came nearer he saw that

she was not so old as he had thought; for though her hair was

snow-white, her dark eyes were bright and lustrous; she was very pale

and there were deep lines on her face, which must, in her youth, have

been exceedingly beautiful, and was even now handsome, though thin and

careworn. She was leaning back, almost reclining, with an air at once

graceful and haughty; it was evident to Derrick that she was a personage

of some importance, and he was not surprised to see the landlord whip

off his hat and bow low, with a gesture of extreme deference.




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