"Come over to the saddle-house," he commanded afterward. "And take
that truck off the senora's front steps before she sees it and has a
fit. I want to talk to you."
"Oh, Lord!" wailed Jack, under his breath, but he shouldered the heavy
saddle obediently, leaving Dade to bring what remained. "Cut it short,
then; she's gone to dress and ask her dad; and I'm supposed to order
the horses and get you started. What's the trouble?"
Dade first went over to the steps before their sleeping-room and
deposited Jack's personal belongings; and Jack seized the minute of
grace to call a peon and order the horses saddled.
He turned from watching proudly the glitter of the trimmings on his
new saddle as the peon bore it away on his shoulder, and confronted
Dade with a tinge of defiance in his manner.
"Well, what have I done now?" he challenged. "Anything particularly
damnable about talking five minutes to a girl in plain sight of her--"
Dade threw out both hands in a gesture of impatience. "That isn't the
only important thing in the world," he pointed out sarcastically. If
the inner hurt served to sharpen his voice, he did not know it. "Don
Andres wants to make me his majordomo."
Jack's eyes bulged a little; and if Dade had not wisely side-stepped
he would have received another one of Jack's muscle-tingling slaps on
the shoulder. "Whee-ee! Say, you're getting appreciated, at last, old
man.
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