Now the silver crescents which Teresita ridiculed were winking up at him to show they could grow no brighter, and he was attacking vigorously the "milky way" that rode behind the high cantle.

Diego grinned bashfully when Jack's shadow flung itself across the saddle and so announced his coming, and stood up and waited humbly before the white senor who had fought for him, a mere peon, born to kicks and cursings rather than to kindness, and so had won the very soul of him.
"Bueno," praised Jack patronizingly.

"Now I have some real work for you, Diego, and it must be done quickly and well." "Gracias, Senor," murmured Diego, abashed by such favor, and bowed low before his god.
"The riata must be dressed now, Diego, and dressed until it is soft as a silken cord, sinuous as the green snakes that live in the streams, and not one strand must be frayed and weakened.

Sabe?
Too long have I neglected to have it done, and now it must be done in haste--and done well.

Can you dress it so that it will be the most perfect riata in California, Diego ?" A twinkle was in Jack's eyes, but Diego was too dazzled by the graciousness of his god to see it there.