Promptly at four o’clock Enrique Morano returned from the University. He found our friends taking it easy in the patio, in hammocks which Juan Greva had had strung there, under the giant palm.
“That is right, take it comfortably,” he said, with a smile. “I am glad to see it. It is so hard to get the Yankees to rest a little. They want constantly to be on the go—to do something—to keep their brain at work. Here, in this warm climate, it would kill a man to keep at such a pace.”
“It does make one lazy,” returned Darry, as he sat up. “But you won’t find me lazy when I get in the saddle.”
“Then you love to ride?”
“He’s crazy for a horse,” put in Mark. “You see, his father is a big cattle dealer from Chicago, and Darry has been out on the ranches more than once. I believe you once helped to break a bronco, didn’t you, Darry?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will have to provide you with an animal of spirit,” said Enrique Morano, with another smile. “Very well, you shall have such a one.”
“No, no, don’t give him a fiery, untamed steed, Morano,” interrupted Professor Strong. “Remember I am responsible for his well-being while we are in Venezuela.”
“But I don’t want an old—plug,” said Darry, with a crestfallen look. “If the horse is broken I’d like to ride him even if he has some ginger in him. Father lets me ride what I please at home.”
“Well, I’ll take a look at the horse first,” answered Professor Strong, slowly. “As to ‘plugs,’ as you term them, I don’t think our host keeps any such.”