himself of the contempt of these provincial people by asserting his manhood in no uncertain terms. When Don Felipe had spoken of the impossibility of escape from that country by one under peonage, Henderson had not been entirely convinced. True, the mayordomo's picture of the thousand hands that would reach out to restore a man to his master, for the reward impelling the deed; the more direct and personal emphasis that Simon had added in his own picturesque manner; the charge of ingratitude laid to him by Don Abrahan himself—all this had worked to the deferment of Henderson's intention. But to deferment only, not the abandonment for a moment. There was a means of escape for a man of the right temper. The time was approaching near when he intended to prove this in the face of their hostility and contempt of the Yankee breed.
How did his account with Don Abrahan and his petulant, overbearing, shallow son stand by now? he wondered. Certainly, not a dollar less than at the beginning. There was no telling what they had charged up against him for this abandoned finery, but if the sum stood in proportion te the jeans and brogans, it would be sufficient to bind him a peon all the rest of his life.
He had been on Don Abrahan's ranch almost five months now. Putting his services at twenty dollars a month—surely he was worth as much as Simon—the original debt, outrageous as it was, had been paid long since. As for gratitude, that
