He was a man after a girl’s heart, this Custer Daniels--and after a man’s. A gay, undaunted adventurer, with a way about him that seemed to extend even to his roping. But alas for the peace of mind of the girl who, at a ranch ball or a blowout in La Cruz, took to heart the laughing flattery of his words, or believed what his eyes said! And alas for the luckless puncher who presumed on any one’s else range or reputation within Custer’s vicinity! Custer was courageous and handsome, and now there was a tempering of his spirits with a white fire of consecration to this cause on which he, along with the other youth of the country, had embarked so lightly. Raquel in her chaps would have been the same little sister to Custer, but now he looked at her again in amazement. Was this Raquel in the citified green dress? “Mountain cats! But ain’t she the prettiest thing this side San Antone!” He swung her off her feet and with one hand, held her up under the mistletoe, where he smacked her right heartily. Georgie was then properly cuffed, the hound dogs fondled, a packet of _cigarritos_ slipped Angel while Jami and Russ were wreathed with smiles, smoke emanating from large and murderous looking black cigars. “Mom’s the only one gets a present, a real present.” And he pulled from his pocket a dull square of folded silk that shook out into a gorgeous Spanish shawl, rare and strange, its golden brown embroidered in pale yellow and crimson roses. Amber and jade flecked its surface like sunshine on a shaded pool. “It’s too beautiful for me, son.” Mrs. Daniels spoke tremulously. “I danced in one something like this the night I met your father.” “Well, I’ll tell you something strange about my finding this,” said Custer. He had been looking for a gift to bring his mother, he said, and was wandering down through the curio shops in El Paso when suddenly he saw a face, the most beautiful girl! He knew he had seen her before, and then it came across him that she was just like that picture of Jimmy’s cousin, Lois, which he had always been so loco about. He’d have sworn it was she; so he followed her into a shop and saw her go up to look at a shawl. It was this one. She was with an elderly man, and Custer had just made up his mind to step up and speak to her when they turned suddenly, went out a side entrance and, before he could get into the street, stepped into a car and were a block away. So he went back and bought the shawl. And the next morning he dropped into the same shop, hoping to run across her again. But the shopkeeper said she had returned the same evening and had been fearfully put out, real angry, that the shawl was gone, and she and her father had gone on to the train. They had said they were leaving that night. Raquel heaved a sigh of relief. That must have been Lois all right! “I plumb forgot the mail,” said Custer. “Stopped by the post office early and made the boys give it to me. Bring it in from the car, Angel.”