The Red Mustang

a, the ranch wore a very peaceful appearance. No cavalry were camped near it. There was not now any American flag floati

n without first explaining himself. There was reason in it, for Santa Lucia now contained only one man to strengthen the brave female garrison which had held it against t

the veranda, and there were two or three c

f these curtains stood Mrs. Evans, with her arms around her daughter. If anything were troubling Vic's mind, the face she was looking into must have had comfort in it. Mrs. Evans was one of those women who are remarkable, and have no need of proving it to make people believe it. She was of medium height and not at all robust in appearance, although in excellent health. There was hardly a tinge of gray in her auburn hair, h

such a building could be made. Colonel Evans had refused to count up how many head of ca

ed table, and her kitchen garden in one corner of the stockade, with her hen-coops, provided somethin

declared it "good medicine," not understanding that his own race was

ta Lucia, remarking of Cal's mother: "Very uncommon woman

r, and had decided that no melon or bean or hill of corn or other ve

lady, with all her refinement and cultivation, should say that she pr

her, but for a tinge of red in her hair and something saucy about her nose and mout

ung. The Indians, mother, and there may be fighting. I almost

l never c

hem from the roof. Some of them co

ched anything of ours. If everybody had dealt with the

y angry enou

Indian without necessity. If

e could kill anybody, or be

maller mark than your father, and not half so likely to g

n, mother. Were you ever

get our soldier scarecrows ready before the Apaches came. Then, too, they might have met your fat

rue that Colonel Evans and Cal and a dozen cowboys had gone with Captain Moore and the cavalry to trail the thieving Mescal

en," said Mrs. Evans; but Victoria did