"The very same."
"I should say I do know that horse! What about him?"
"My father is going to buy him for me."
This was news, and Farrel's manner indicated as much.
"Where did you see Panchito?" he demanded.
"An Indian named Pablo rode him into El Toro to be shod one day while we were living at the hotel there. He's perfectly adorable."
"Pablo? Hardly. I know the old rascal."
"Be serious. Panchito—I was passing the blacksmith's shop, and I simply had to step in and admire him."
"That tickled old Pablo to death—of course."
"It did. He put Panchito through all of his tricks for me, and, after the horse was shod, he permitted me to ride the dear for half an hour. Pablo was so kind! He waited until I could run back to the hotel and change into my riding-habit."