He had even now a touch of pride at the recollection how, when his older companions had failed to get Tamale Jose, he with his undeveloped strategy had gained that end.

The fight would never be forgotten, as it was his first, and no sight of wounds would ever affect him as did those of Red Connors as he lay huddled up in the dark corner of that old adobe hut.
He came to himself and laughed again as he thought of Carmencita, the first girl he had ever known--and the last.

With a boy's impetuosity he had wooed her in a manner far different from that of the peons who sang beneath her window and talked to her mother.

He had boldly scaled the wall and did his courting in her house, trusting to luck and to his own ability to avoid being seen.

No hidden meaning lay in his words; he spoke from his heart and with no concealment.