"
Dade's face managed to wrinkle humorously. "H-m. You are pretty
gorgeous, for a fact. Where's the riata?"
Jack had forgotten that he had ever wanted one. He lifted the heavy,
high-cantled saddle, flung it down upon the other side and untied the
new coil of braided rawhide from its place on the right fork.
"A six-strand, eh? I could tell Manuel a few things about riatas, if
he calls that the best! Four strands are stronger than six, any time.
I've seen too many stranded--"
"The senor is not pleased with the riata?"
Manuel, following Don Andres across to the veranda, had caught the
gesture and tone; and while his knowledge of English was extremely
sketchy, he knew six and four when he heard those numerals mentioned,
and the rest was easy guessing.
"The four strands are good, but the six are better--when Joaquin
Murieta lays the strands. From the hide of a very old bull was this
riata cut; perhaps the senor is aware that the hide is thus of the
same thickness throughout and strong as the bull that grew it. Not one
strand is laid tighter than the other strand; the wildest bull in the
valley could not break it--if the senor should please to catch him!
Me, I could have bought three riatas for the gold I gave for this one;
but the senor told me to get the best." His shoulders went up an inch,
though Don Andres was frowning at the tone of him. "The senor can
return it to the Mission and get the three, or he can exchange it with
any vaquero in the valley for one which has four strands.
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