“But _el Medico_ he have said that the Englishman he must ride, ride, ride--or with the lungs he will surely die. And so he try and try, for he had the pluck, that Englishman. By and by, he grow strong--strong like the bull. The air of the hills is like the old wine of Oporto and makes the great miracles. _Carramba!_--the air it did not know. “When that Englishman he was strong to ride steady, Juan was happy no more. Wherever Chiquita was, there was Milord. He learned to throw the _riata_ and with the _vaqueros_ to ride the herd. They ride not badly, these cursed _Inglés_. This fellow he ride bob! bob! bob! up and down, always up and down--but he ride straight like the soldier. “How Juan hated that English Milord! Little fool, that Juan! He did not know that it was Juan that was too many in the riding of pleasure. Ah! he was the great fool--he thought it was the Englishman! For many days he thought this foolish thought. So it was, until one day Chiquita sent him away on a mission that was useless. When he came back, he saw her riding far away from the _hacienda_, far away in the hills. The Englishman he was beside her; so close to her he was that together their knees were touching. And then Juan knew! And then, so quick, like the lightning, grew he from boy to man--and such a man! “It runs hot, the blood of my people, _Señor_, and in the veins of none of his race had it ever run hotter than it ran that day in the veins of Juan. And bitter it ran, and everything it was red to the eyes of Juan. One thing only was there to do; the Englishman must die, and Juan he must kill him! “The next day again into the hills rode Chiquita. Milord, the cursed Milord, was as always beside her. Juan saw them at the corral in the starting, and taking his rifle he crawl, like _una serpiente_, on the belly through a gulch between the hills that open on the road at the turning. In the chapparal he crouched and waited, like the panther that is hungry. Nothing could save Milord, for when did Juan ever miss the mark? “But Chiquita made with the Englishman a race, and so swift was her mustang that far behind she left him. To the turn of the road she came alone. Juan heard the beating of the hoofs and thought it was time. He stood straight up behind the brush of the greasewood and manzanita, with his rifle at his shoulder--so! Chiquita saw, and all at once she knew. “So sudden it all was, and she ride so quick, that Juan was close--oh, so close--to killing Chiquita before he saw who was the rider. “Straight at him the mustang she rode, and then she stopped and looked into his eyes; oh, so sad she looked. For a long time she looked at him. He saw that she knew, and it was not the eyes of Chiquita that fell--it was Juan’s. And then she spoke: