“Why not hang the _cuero_ in the old drying shed, Pancho? Russ has mended up the doors and windows and neither skunks nor dogs can get in there.” Pancho nodded. As he turned to go Raquel asked carelessly, “By the way, Pancho, Russell tells me that ‘A. B.’ has bought La Bolsa, the _ranchito_ of Elena’s aunt, over by our north reservoir. Is that so?” “_Si, señorita._ It was a worthless place and it was sold to him.” Raquel nodded, and went on with her roping, spreading wide loops over Panchito’s burro. “Why did they not sell to my father last year when he offered to buy?” Pancho shrugged. As he turned away there was an expression of annoyed speculation on his face. Raquel grinned. She was pleased with herself that she had disconcerted Esquibal, but she knew that some day she would have to have it out with him. But although it was the conviction of Ranchos justice that if you let a bad hombre have rope enough he would hang himself, Raquel did not want Pancho to steal the rope, nor to achieve that desirable end at her expense if it could be avoided. She could not be sure that he had had anything to do with the rebranded, stolen heifer. Had she known then, or suspected, what was to come to light later on, she would not have waited for events to solve the matter. CHAPTER VII CHRISTMAS Christmas week came upon Los Ranchos suddenly, and, although there were so few to celebrate it this year, Jami and Raquel and Georgie went out in the car to gather mistletoe, according to the custom. The scrub oak was covered with the pretty parasite, and they gathered great bundles, thick with pearly berries, mixing it with sprays of silver spruce and ground holly from the mountains. Raquel did up large boxes and sent Russell in to town to mail packages off to the Marvins, and to The Towers in care of Miss Carter. With the rest she decorated the house, and three days before Christmas she and her mother drove into town to do their Christmas shopping. For Ole Hossfoot, who would be down Christmas Eve as usual, she got a leather jacket, composed mainly of pockets. For her mother she bought a quilted satin dressing gown, fleece-lined, to wear elegantly as she sat before her fire on winter nights after the last dish had been dried and set back on the table for breakfast, after the cats had been fed and put out and let back in again. It never took Raquel long to decide about anything, and in a short time there was a gift for every one but Anne and Jimmy. Anne’s gift would be late of course. As Raquel strode along the main street she saw in a curio window _the_ gift--a string of graduated, polished turquoise wampum, a lovely thing that Anne could wear beautifully. What for Jimmy? Impulsively Raquel pointed to a red leather frame and, slipping a large kodak picture of herself out of her bag, she tucked it in with a Christmas card, “Love to Jimmy.”