“Me, I could with the caballo which I have in mind—­Noches—­I could pass Manuel upon the way, though he had two more hours the start of me!” English was too slow now for Valencia’s eagerness.  “Manuel is fat, and he is not young, and he will not ride too fast for his fat to endure.  Also he will stop at the Pacheco hacienda for breakfast, and to rest his bones.  Me, I can be at the rancho two hours before Manuel, Senor.”

Valencia was not a deceitful young man, as deceit goes; but he wanted very much to be sent in haste to the ranch, for he was itching with curiosity to know the truth of this matter and if he were indeed right.  If Manuel had gone bearing a challenge from Jose to the Senor Jack, then he wanted to know the answer as soon as possible.  Also there was Felice, the daughter of Carlos, whose lips lured him with their sweetness.  Truly, Valencia would promise any miracle of speed.

The pool lay calm as the face of a dead child.  Dade stooped and tossed a pebble into it as if that stillness troubled him.  He took his cigarette from his lips, looked at the glowing tip, and over it at the eager face of Valencia.

“We mustn’t let them fight.  Take Noches and ride like the devil was at your heels.  Get there ahead of Manuel and tell Jack—­” He stopped there and bit his lips to hurry his slow thoughts.  “Tell Jack he must go to town right away, because—­well, tell him Bill Wilson—­”

Valencia’s face had been lengthening comically, but hope began to live again in his eyes.  “If the senor would write what he wishes to say while I am making ready for the start, he will then have more time to think of what is best.  The moon will ride clear to-night; and the sun will find me at the rancho, Senor.  Me, I have ridden Noches one hundred miles without rest, before now; these sixty will be play for us both.”

“Gracias, Valencia.”  Dade dropped a hand gratefully upon the shoulder of the other.  “I’ll write a note, but you must do your part also.  You know your people, and I know Jack; if those two fight, the trouble will spread like fire in the grass; for Don Jose has many friends to take up the quarrel.  You’ve had a long day in the saddle, amigo, and the sixty miles will not be play.  I would not ask it if the need were less urgent—­but you must beat Manuel.  If you don’t, Jack will accept the challenge; and once he does that—­” he flung out both hands in his characteristic gesture of impatience or helplessness.

“Si, Senor.  If the saints permit, Manuel shall not see him first.”  It was like Valencia to shift the responsibility from his own conscience to the shoulders of the saints, for now he could ride with a lighter heart.  Perhaps he was even sincere when he made the promise; but there were sixty miles of moonlight in which his desire could ride with him and tempt him; and of a truth, Valencia did greatly desire to see those two come together in combat!