"Hope to die there, too. You leave the train at El Toro, I suppose?"
"My father has telegraphed mother to have the car meet us there. We shall motor out to the ranch. And are you alighting at El Toro also?"
"No. I plan to pile off at Sespe, away up the line, and take a short cut via a cattle-trail over the hills. I'll hike it."
She hesitated slightly. Then:
"I'm sure father would be very happy to give you a lift out from El Toro, Sergeant. We shall have oodles of room."
"Thank you. You are very kind. But the fact is," he went on to explain, "nobody knows I'm coming home, and I have a childish desire to sneak in the back way and surprise them. Were I to appear in El Toro, I'd have to shake hands with everybody in town and relate a history of my exploits and———"
"I understand perfectly. You just want to get home, don't you?" And she bent upon him a smile of complete understanding—a smile all-compelling, maternal. "But did you say you'd hike it in from Sespe? Why not hire a horse?"
"I'd like to have a horse, and if I cared to ask far one, I could borrow one. But I'll hike it instead. It will be easy in light marching-order."
"Speaking of horses," she said abruptly. "Do you know a horse in the San Gregorio named Panchito?"
"A very dark chestnut with silver mane and tail, five-gaited, and as stylish as a lady?"