“Come, I came to take you for a ride. I see you were intending to go anyway,” he said tactfully. Half reluctantly she permitted him to lead her to the gate and assist her in mounting. Immediately, as she felt her horse under her, her usual happy spirit returned and in a short time she was laughing and merry as could be. The warm breeze blew her white veil about her face and tossed her hair about in sweet confusion. What a picture they made as their horses moved swiftly along in rhythmic motion! He sat his horse well and rode without any awkwardness, now that his ankle was strong once more. It seemed to him that he had never seen such perfect grace before, as he saw how beautifully the girl rode her splendid horse. “If it were not so hot down across the flat,” said Bess, “I would show you that Mauchacho can go twice as fast as that cayuse you are riding,” and the twinkle in her eye was inconsistent with her assumed, contemptuous smile. “This is the first ride we have had together for so long that I could not bear to hurry it,” replied Davis, as he placed a restraining hand on Mauchacho’s bridle. “It seems to be growing dreadfully hot! Go to the right beyond those rocks and we shall find shade and a spring,” said the girl, as she noticed tiny beads of sweat trickling down the horses’ necks. Suddenly, Mauchacho, who was leading, gave a quick snort and sprang sidewise into the air and landed several feet to the side of the trail, nearly throwing Bess from the saddle. Astonished at the unusual performance of her horse, she glanced quickly about to discern the cause of this fear. The next instant she snatched the 38 Smith and Wesson from her skirt and a sharp crack sounded as the shot created a squirming, writhing mass in the trail only a few feet in front of her. Davis’ horse had also become frightened at the coiled rattler and was now almost uncontrollable. Bess sprang from Mauchacho, who had the sense to know that the snake was now harmless, firing another shot into the quivering streaks of drab and it lay still. “Well, upon my word, Miss Fletcher, I take off my hat to you!” said Davis, as he succeeded in quieting his horse. “Who taught you to be such a ‘crack shot’ and where did you get that pretty gun? Where did you conceal it, may I ask?” “Come, cut the rattles off for me and put them in my hat-band, Mr. Davis! This is the first thing I’ve shot with my pistol which Henry West gave me only today as a present, because I had learned to shoot so well under his directions,” answered the excited girl. “Eleven rattles and a button! Just like his!” She could not resist a tiny shudder of aversion as she placed the sombrero with its new decoration upon her head. Yet she knew that Henry West’s face would light up with gratification when he saw her trophy. CHAPTER XVIII MAUCHACHO WINS THE RACE “Come, folks, hurry, hurry! I can hear the Indians’ drums already!” cried Bess, as she ran through the hall and downstairs.