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Updated: June 15, 2025
I have a very excellent reason for not selling Panchito to you, but never let it be said that I was such a poor sport I refused to loan him to you provided, of course, Kay agrees to this course. He's her mount, you know, while she's on El Palomar." Parker turned to his daughter. "Kay," he demanded, "do you love your poor old father?"
In this gear he arrayed Panchito, and then mounted him. Allesandro mounted the flea-bitten mule, the old Saratoga trunk was turned over to Pablo, and with a fervent "Adios, Don Miguel. Go with God!" from the old majordomo, Don Mike and his little companion rode south through the city toward the international boundary.
"John, this is simply delicious. That rascal of a Don Miguel has reverted to type. He has put aside his Celtic and Gaelic blood and turned Mexican. He tells people the truth about his horse and a reporter with a sense of humor has advertised these truths by writing a funny story about him and Panchito and the Indian imp."
Both of you will go to the judge's stand immediately and vouch for Don Mike and Panchito. If you do not I shall and I fancy John Parker's daughter's testimony will be given some consideration, Mr. John Parker being very well known to every racing judge in America." "There are days," murmured John Parker sadly, "when I find it impossible to lay up a cent. I have nurtured a serpent in my bosom."
Thees animal, Loustalot, hee's go crazy with the fear, so he grab thees gray horse from the Señorita Parker and hee's ride away fast like the devil just when Don Miguel arrive with the hounds. Then Don Miguel, hee's take Panchito and go get thees man." "But where are Don Miguel and Miss Parker now?" "Mees Parker, she take the automobile; the señorita and Don Miguel go to El Toro.
Parker willingly consented, and the following morning Farrel and his guests repaired to the race-track. Kay, mounted on Panchito in racing gear, was, by courtesy, given a position next to the rail.
I'm the girl to whom you were kind enough to give a ride on Panchito one day in El Toro." The glowering glance of suspicion and resentment faded slowly from old Pablo's swarthy countenance. He scrambled to his feet and swept the ground with his old straw sombrero, "I am at the service of the señorita," he replied, gravely. "Thank you, Pablo.
"An Indian named Pablo rode him into El Toro to be shod one day while we were living at the hotel there. He's perfectly adorable." "Pablo? Hardly. I know the old rascal." "Be serious. Panchito I was passing the blacksmith's shop, and I simply had to step in and admire him." "That tickled old Pablo to death of course." "It did.
Of course we understand perfectly, but well you understand, don't you, Miguel?" "I understand that I cannot afford to have your father suspect that I am unmindful of certain conditions," he answered her, and flushed with embarrassment. "If you do not want Panchito as a gift I shall not insist " "I think it would be a good idea for you to permit Dad to buy him for me.
"Sancho Panza leads on Panchito!" the book-maker, Joe, declared as the field swept past the grand-stand. He was following the flying horses through his racing glasses. "Quarter horse," he informed his companion. "Beat the gate like a shot out of a gun. King Agrippa, the favorite, second by two lengths. Sir Galahad third. At the quarter! Panchito leads by half a length, Sir Galahad second.
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