"God protect us, now!" murmured Dolores, crossing herself
devoutly.
VIII
BLAZE JONES'S NEMESIS
Blaze Jones rode up to his front gate and dismounted in the shade
of the big ebony-tree. He stepped back and ran an approving eye
over another animal tethered there. It was a thoroughbred bay mare
he had never seen, and as he scanned her good points he reflected
that the time had come when he would have to accustom himself to
the sight of strange horses along his fence and strange
automobiles beside the road, for Paloma was a woman now, and the
young men of the neighborhood had made the discovery. Yes, and
Paloma was a pretty woman; therefore the hole under the ebony-tree
would probably be worn deep by impatient hoofs. He was glad that
most of the boys preferred saddles to soft upholstery, for it
argued that some vigor still remained in Texas manhood, and that
the country had not been entirely ruined by motors, picture-shows,
low shoes, and high collars. Of course the youths of this day were
nothing like the youths of his own, and yet--Blaze let his gaze
linger fondly on the high-bred mare and her equipment--here at
least was a person who knew a good horse, a good saddle, and a
good gun.
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