horizon.

"You come home with me," she said quietly. "Nellie is not at the home
to-day. You rest, and then perhaps you go to the Concho."

As they entered the gateway of the Loring rancho, Corliss made as
though to dismount. The Señora Loring touched his arm. He shrugged
his shoulders; then gazed ahead at the peaceful habitation of the old
sheep-herder.

The Señora told the driver to tie the team and wait. Then she entered
the house. Corliss gazed about the familiar room while she made
coffee. Half starved, he ate ravenously the meal she prepared for him.
Later, when she came and sat opposite, her plump hands folded in her
lap, her whole attitude restful and assuring, he told her of the
robbery, concealing nothing save the name of Fadeaway.

Then he drew the canvas sack from his pocket. "I thought I could go
back and face it out, but now, I can't. Will you--return it--and--tell
John?"

She nodded. "Si! If you wish it so, my son. You would not do that as
I would tell you--so I say nothing. I can only--what you say--help,
with my hands," and she gestured gracefully as though leading a child.
"You have money to go away?"

"No, madre."

"Then I give you the money." And the Señora, ignoring his half-hearted
protests, stepped to an adjoining room and returned. "Here is this to