Don Andres Picardo was as clean, as honest, and as kindly as the sunshine that mellowed the dim distances behind him.

The two came to their feet unconsciously and received his handclasp with inner humility.
Don Andres held Dade's hand a shade longer than the most gracious hospitality demanded, while his eyes dwelt solicitously upon his face, browned near to the shade of a native son of those western slopes.
"I heard of your brave deed, Senor--of how you rode into the midst of the Vigilantes and snatched your friend from under the very shadow of the oak.

I did not hear that you escaped their vengeance afterwards, and I feared greatly lest harm had befallen you.

Dios! It was gallantly done, like a knight of olden times--" "Oh, no.

I didn't rescue any lady, Don Andres.