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This etext was produced by Judy Boss.
The Valiant
Runaways
By
GERTRUDE
ATHERTON
TO
GEORGE AND GILBERT JONES
Of New York
WITHOUT WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT THIS YARN WOULD
NEVER HAVE BEEN FINISHED
The Valiant Runaways
I
Roldan Castanada walked excitedly up and down the verandah of his
father's house, his thumbs thrust into the red silk sash that was
knotted about his waist, his cambric shirt open at the throat as if
pulled impatiently apart; the soft grey sombrero on the back of his
curly head making a wide frame for his dark, flushed, scowling face.
There was nothing in the surroundings to indicate the cause of his
disturbance. The great adobe house, its white sides and red tiles
glaring in the bright December sun, would have been as silent as a tomb
but for the rapid tramping of Roldan and the clank of his silver spurs
on the pavement.
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