“An’ who’s been makin’ ye cry, this fine mornin’, Miss Carlota?”
“Nobody. Nobody, at all. It was foolish, but see? I am not now,” and she smiled into his troubled face.
“But where is the little gossoon, me dear? Sure, I’ve a mind to go halves with him in this creatur’ o’ mine. That boy Jack, beyant, who doesn’t know horse from mule nor t’other from which, is so set up an’ flairboyant, I must take him down a peg. Never mind, says I to myself. Wait a bit, Dennis, me boy, says I. ’Tis a half of a horse master Carlos shall have now, but a whole one bime-by.”
“Why, Dennis! What do you mean? How do you know? I thought it was to be a surprise!” cried Carlota.
“Sure, an isn’t it? We’ll speak never a word, you an’ me, till we meets up with a beast what wants to be sellin’ himself an’ then—out goes the wind from Jack’s sails—kerflump!”
“Oh! is that all? I thought you meant something different;” and she smiled again, anticipating the moment when Carlos should return, riding a beautiful animal which had cost him nothing but his own prowess. “But, Dennis, what is your broncho’s name!”
“Name, says you? Humph! That’s more nor I know meself. But, bein’s he’s a new master why not a new name? Eh? An’ is it yourself will be doin’ the honor to speak it?”
“Oh! I thank you, but I couldn’t. I’ve named one animal already to-day and I may have to name another—I mean—I’d rather you did it yourself. Dennis, though it was kind of you to think I might. What shall it be?”
“Belike—it may not be—anything! Whoa, there! Whoa, I tell ye!”
“You’re pulling too tight on that bridle. Maybe, he thinks you want him to stand on his head—drawing him like that! Oh, Dennis, Dennis! Don’t. Do take it easily. Your fingers are clinched and your teeth set as if you were in terror. That’s not the way to ride, no, no; and I’ve told you once, already.”