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Next came Joseph Mews, his shoulders humped, his head bobbing like a duck, for he had this habit of nodding when he walked. "Say, wot d'ye thinka that?" he asked. "Ain't that fine. He kin drawr jist as good as they do in them there magazines. I see them there things in them, now an' then. Ain't that swell? Lookit Suddsy back in there. Eh, Suddsy, you're in right, all right.
'E and the woman woman no good tell Meester Ashby they thinka 'im 'ere." The Girl felt the colour leave her cheeks, though she made a gesture for him to proceed. "Pedro not 'ere any longer," smiled the Mexican. "Me senda 'im to the devil. Serva 'im right." "An' the woman?" gasped the Girl. "She gone got away Monterey by this time," replied Castro with evident disappointment.
"You shall have them," he announced, while she nodded her head gravely. "But I mean a big wish, something big that you want." Her eyes sparkled good-naturedly. He was choosing to make fun with her, Maria, with whom few made fun these days. "Think hard," he cautioned, just as she was opening her mouth to speak. "Alla right," she answered. "I thinka da hard.
He said to the indifferent bartender who had just served him: "'F you knew what I know 'bout Germany, you'd be won'ful man! I'M won'ful man. I know something! Going tell, too. Going see 'thorities this afternoon. Going tell 'em great secret!... Grea' milt'ry secret! Tell 'em all 'bout it! Grea' secresh! Nobody knows grea'-sekresh 'cep m'self! Whaddya thinka that?
The Mexican's shifty eyes wandered all over the room as if to make certain that no inimical ears were listening; then he whispered: "I tella you something you lika the Maestro?" Unconsciously the Girl nodded, which evidently satisfied the Mexican, for he went on: "You thinka well of him yees. Now I tella you something. The man Pedro 'e no good. 'E wisha the reward the money for Ramerrez.
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