“Go to jail if necessary. Go anywhere but the place you went. The horses were jaded on a fifty-mile ride, were they? Either one of them was good for a hundred without unsaddling, and you know it. Haven’t I told you that this ranch would raise horses when we were all dead and gone? Suppose you had killed a couple of horses? What would that have been, compared to your sneaking into the ranch this way, like a whipped cur with your tail between your legs? Now, the countryside will laugh at us both.” “The country may laugh,” I answered, “but I’ll not be here to hear it. Enrique has gone after my horse, and as soon as he gets in I’m leaving you for good.” “You’ll do nothing of the kind. You think you’re all shot to pieces, don’t you? Well, you’ll stay right here until all your wounds heal. I’ve taken all these degrees myself, and have lived to laugh at them afterward. And I have had lessons that I hope you’ll never have to learn. When I found out that my third wife had known a gambler before she married me, I found out what the Bible means by rottenness of the bones with which it says an evil woman uncrowns her husband. I’ll tell you about it some day. But you’ve not been scarred in this little side-play. You’re not even powder burnt. Why, in less than a month you’ll be just as happy again as if you had good sense.” Miss Jean now interrupted. “Clear right out of here,” she said to her brother and the rest. “Yes, the whole pack of you. I want to talk with Tom alone. Yes, you too—you’ve said too much already. Run along out.” As they filed out, I noticed Uncle Lance pick up my saddle and throw it across his shoulder, while Theodore gathered up the rancid blankets and my fancy bridle, taking everything with them to the house. Waiting until she saw that her orders were obeyed, Miss Jean came over and sat down beside me on the bed. Anita stood like a fawn near the door, likewise fearing banishment, but on a sign from her mistress she spread a goatskin on the floor and sat down at our feet. Between two languages and two women, I was as helpless as an ironed prisoner. Not that Anita had any influence over me, but the mistress of the ranch had. In her hands I was as helpless as a baby. I had come to the ranch a stranger only a little over a year before, but had I been born there her interest could have been no stronger. Jean Lovelace relinquished no one, any more than a mother would one of her boys. I wanted to escape, to get away from observation; I even plead for a month’s leave of absence. But my reasons were of no avail, and after arguing pro and con for over an hour, I went with her to the house. If the Almighty ever made a good woman and placed her among men for their betterment, then the presence of Jean Lovelace at Las Palomas savored of divine appointment.