The Ypsilanti daily press. (Ypsilanti, Mich.) 1928-1962, 1943-07-27
CHAPTER FIVE

SQUIRTING into the brightness
OF the MONDAY sun, Miguel, the
grizzled peon who tended Parkin-
sons horses, saw Curley's pinto
and a strange sorrel coming at
slow canter up the desert road. He
swung wide the handsome wrought
iron gate that opened into the
courtyard. Then he watched Cur
ley's quick dismounting, his turn to
lift the girl from her saddle.
Jean was pale but protesting
coldly I'm not that helpless, real
ly." She was irritated at his high
handed determination to bring her
here. And she certainly could have
dismounted by herself!
Curley made a sweeping bow in
true Castillian fashion. 1T is the
code Of the Conquistadores. The
women in Mexico, the extranjeros,
the ones from foreign lands, are
treated so, my her'nosa nina" His
knocking smile told her she was
stupid but beautiful. Miguel led the
horses away toward the corral.
jeans angry gaze lifted toward
the house-then stopped SPELL
bound Her eyes widened, feasted
on the beauty Of Rancho Gasoline.
The spacious patio was bordered by
flowers in a riot Of brilliant color.
The flaming bougainvillea, luxuri-
ant hibiscus, crimson FIRE trees that
blazed in the sun. The dazzling
whiteness of the hacienda made a
perfect backdrop for the splashes
| Of color. Curley was watching her
with consuming amusement
you like 1t, senorita ?" he asked.
Il think it's the loveliest spot
ever have seen" Jean breathed.
You'll like the owners as we'll
as the place"
At the cocky sureness Of his
tone, jeans anger rose again. She
was tired and disheveled; her
white riding habit was crushed, her
hair loosened. She said coldly, IF.
you'll order my horse, I'll go now.
I have no wish to meet your-your
employers today"
But Why" he cried like hurt
boy.
Why Because I have to 90
home"
He laughed and shrugged his
broad shoulders. There's always
manana."
She was walking briskly toward
he gate. Z" There's always mana
IA to meet your friends, too" she
retorted.
But abruptly his hands were on
her arms, his dark eyes bent COM
pellingly on her face. But I think
you'd really enjoy meeting them"
he said.
Almost without conscious voli-
ton, Jean found herself moving to-
ward the hacienda with him.
through the arched doorway into
the coolness of the interior. The
lbrick-red tile floor was generously
dotted with Indian rugs in many
colors. The furniture was dark
with age, heavily carved. the chairs
and divan covered with rich, red
Morocco leather.
Most Of this furniture was
brought over from Spain before the
days Of Diaz," Curley spoke softly,
lest he disturb her fascination. 1T
first belonged to a Spanish grandee
who was given a large grant Of
land in Mexico by the king of
Spain"
Jean drew long, rapturous
breath as her eyes swept from one
object TO another. Finally her
glance rested on a finely-carved
saddle and silver spurs that hung
from the nommel That saddle ?"
she cried To whom did that be.
long?
Curley grinned You pick EN-. |
senorita. That's probably the most |
cherished relic in all Mexico. The
favorite saddle and spurs Of Pancho |
Villa"
THE Mexican bandit"
"Ard semi-saint," amended Cur
ley. Most Of the poems around
here hold him close TO their hearts
the greatest Of all Mexicans.
Gran hombre,' they whisper with |
reverence when his names men
toned He swung around then
with a gay, Hello" And Jean, turn