“And when I got ready to sell to some one else rather than the man whom ‘A. B.’ dealt with, and had managed to get the cars which Pancho said he didn’t think I would get for a long time, Pancho got a message from ‘A. B.’ to keep the cattle from being shipped. “He and her first cousin--the La Bolsa sheepherder, brother of the half-wit we met the day of the hunt, Georgie,--well, they did it. Were going to do it, she said. “It was the poor innocent half-wit who had taken the sheep over to La Bolsa. They hadn’t been stolen by the lion at all! Pancho had made Gabriel drive them over in the old oxcart. Remember how Old Cap carried on, Georgie, at the start of the hunt, and how he wanted to chew Gabriel up?” “Yes, yes, but get on and tell about the _bank_ part!” “I’m coming to it! Jimmy! Will you keep still a minute! Well, poor Elena, she nearly had an _ataque_ when she found we’d already gone. I tell you I _am_ getting to the bank part! “So I told the boys to go ahead and ship what was there, because the boys at the station had orders not to hold the cars longer than twelve hours. Jami and Angel went along with ’em and arrived in Kansas City Thursday all right. “I guess even that was a disappointment to some folks, ’cause that meant thirty thousand dollars, and any one can raise five or ten thousand, some way. But I didn’t have to! Yes, some folks were sure disappointed that day.” Jimmy exploded in a curdling yell of impatience, but Raquel continued, ignoring the interruption placidly. “When I walked into the bank at ten-thirty in the morning, April first, lookin’ very sour, and handed out a draft on the National City Bank, New York City, for thirty-five thousand dollars, signed by Barry C. Marvin, Sr., of Boston, there was surely some surprise. I wish you could have seen Mr. A. B. Meyers’ face, and Mr. Putnam looked pleased in spite of himself, though he was actually apologetic to ‘A. B.’” “You see, that was the idea that came to me the night Mom and I were motoring home from La Cruz. I said to myself, ‘I’ll tell Anne’s father all about it. Maybe he’ll advance me the money. He can’t lose in the long run. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll help. So I wrote him a letter right away. “I didn’t dare to hope for it, or scarcely think about it, even. I went ahead to ship our cattle, so that whatever happened we’d be all right. “Then, when they did finally manage to break up our herd that morning and I was trying to think there in the hotel--I just couldn’t admit failure, even though it seemed to stare me in the face--why, that wonderful letter of Mr. Marvin’s came pokin’ under the door. “It meant that I didn’t fail Dad; and that we could let half our range rest for the next year. That even if we get another dry year we’ll have fresh pasture. And we’ve got the calves to put on it and that’s more than ‘A. B.’ has. And if this war lasts those calves are goin’ to be badly needed next winter.”