“Crickey! but I wish his horse would throw him!” grunted Rose. “If he isn’t a brute I never saw one. But how about it, Ramona? Will he be able to catch up with the Indian? I guess not, with all the start he has, and his horse is better than theirs, too.”
“It will be a long time before he catches the Indian that way,” smiled Ramona. “That trail leads into a blind cañon, and after they have ridden to the end, which will take them all day, they will have to ride back. They will be three sick men before they get back where they came from.”
“Ramona, you’re a wonder!” Rose laughed for the joy of it, Ruth joining in delightedly. “Won’t they be mad clean through, though! It makes me feel good to think of it!”
“That is all very well,” remarked Ramona, laughing too, “but it is getting late, and time we were home. Here, this is where we turn into the orchard.”
Under the trees they hastened their steps, and presently saw a boy on horseback coming toward them. He waved his hat on catching sight of them, and spurred his horse in their direction.
“It’s Felipe,” explained Ramona. “The Señora has perhaps sent after us, and he has been seeking. Are we late, Felipe?” she called, as he came nearer.
He rode up, bowing and smiling. A handsome boy, dark of feature and hair and slender of build, graceful as a cat.
“The Señora is troubled at your long absence, and sent me out to find you, Ramona,” he told her. “These, then, are your friends? It is a pleasure to meet them.” Dismounting, he kissed the girls’ hands gallantly and yet with entire absence of affectation.
Hooking his reins over his arm, he joined them in the short walk that remained to the house.
“It was lucky my riding in this direction,” he remarked, “but the orange trees are so sweet now, and I know how Ramona loves them, so I thought she might have led you this way.”