They paused now, the foremost turkeys having stopped to explore a manzanita thicket. Austin took a closer look at her than he had had before, his wonder growing over her delicate beauty. Never had he seen its equal. And yet she seemed unconscious of it, and had none of the smirking and simpering and obvious showing-off of her prettiness that marred most girls. Then, for some reason, there rose up before him a certain, doll-like face, pretty and petulant, but distinguished by eyes that were purposefully eloquent. The hazel pair at hand were watching the valley. Austin looked and saw a horseman threading the lane by the creek. At that great distance, the horse looked to him scarcely more than a rabbit in size. Vincenza’s face lighted as she looked. “Ah!” she exclaimed presently; “it is Guido!” And shaping her slim hands to form a mouth-trumpet, she sent down a long, clear halloo. The horseman reined sharply and, taking off his hat, waved it about his head. Then he rode on, with a trail of dust rising like smoke behind him. Between the galloping horseman and the hill, two people on foot were moving slowly. Austin studied them a moment. One was a woman, in a white dress, the other a man--Heaton, surely, for there was no mistaking that broad sombrero. But who was the girl? Vincenza now hurried forward, all anxiety for her flock. “Fantana,” she called, “oh, where are the babies?” Spying them out, all safe, she came back to give the ever-lagging gobbler a smart cuff. “Why, _why_ do you not stay with the little ones and take care of them?” she demanded in a scold. “You bad Dewey!” Austin was delighted. He gave over watching the couple in the valley and helped her circle the flock and keep them from spreading. Then, together, they freed a little turk that had tangled his over-long legs among some vines. The next four days passed with amazing swiftness for Austin. His mornings were spent among the oaks upon the hill, where the turkeys never failed to make their appearance. He took a shotgun with him, Hal having suggested that the ranch could spare an occasional coyote or rabbit--or even a wildcat! But the afternoons were devoted to High Court, and billiards or bridge made the warm hours go quickly. In the evening there was a drive, perhaps, or a stroll. As a rule, after dinner, Austin walked with Dorothy, the others rather pairing off or grouping so that this might be the case. One night, however, toward the end of his stay, Miss Scott fell to his lot. The first half-hour with her he contrived to spend agreeably. Once you knew her, he had come to think, she was really a nice enough girl. Her pertness grew out of her natural sharpness rather than out of any intent to be caustic or malicious. But--did it? They had arrived at a palm-bordered turn in the road that led to the valley. There they paused, looking back at the low, white house, the wide windows of which were all brilliantly alight.