Juan
Valdez was the son of the candidate who was opposing the
reelection of Megales, and Manuel Garcia was his bosom friend,
and the young man to whom his sister was engaged. They were both
excellent types of the honorable aristocratic young Mexican. They
were lightly built, swarthy your men, possessed of that perfect
grace and courtesy which can be found at its best in the Spanish
races. Gay, handsome young cavaliers as they were, filled with
the pride of family, Bucky thought them almost ideal companions
for such a harebrained adventure as this. The ranger was a social
democrat to the marrow. He had breathed in with the Southwest
breezes the conviction that every man must stand on his own
bottom, regardless of adventitious circumstance, but he was not
fool enough to think all men equal. It had been his experience
that some men, by grace of the strength in them, were born to be
masters and others by their weakness to be servants. He knew that
the best any civilization can offer a man is a chance. Given
that, it is up to every man to find his own niche.
But though he had no sense of deference to what is known as good
blood, Bucky had too much horse sense to resent the careless,
half-indifferent greeting which these two young sprouts of
aristocracy bestowed on the rest of the party.
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