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Updated: June 2, 2025
He failed to meet me at the rendezvous set, but was effusive when I ran across him in the evening round of the plaza: "Ah, amigo mio. Muy buenas noches. Como 'sta uste-e-e? So delighted! I was grieved beyond measure to miss you. I live in the Calle Reforma, number 83. There you have your own house. I am going there now. Do you not wish to accompany me? I have...."
When Holmes arrived at the Company headquarters the General Manager shifted his cigar to the corner of his mouth and cocked his head to one side, looking him over critically. "Buenas dias, Senor," cried the engineer gaily, throwing his sombrero, quirt and gloves on the floor and helping himself from the box of cigars on the desk. Holmes was still thinking in the language of Barbara's land.
I asked Raoul. "La Magdalena." "That will do. Now onward." "Buenas noches, Senor!" "Buenas noches!" returned the man in a gruff voice. We stole cautiously along the streets, keeping in the darker ones to avoid observation. The citizens were mostly in their beds; but groups of soldiers were straggling about, and patrols met us at every corner.
In the back of the wagon sat a young squaw and two papooses, and beside them were stacked three or four of the gay, handwoven rugs for which the white people will pay many dollars. "Buenas dias," said the driver of the wagon, who was an oldish Indian with a true picture-postal face. And: "Hello," said the other, who was young and wore a bright blue coat, such as young Mexicans affect.
"Don Carlos can count upon one powerful partisan already in Sonora, and there will soon be many. But it is getting late, Don Vicente, and I have yet much business to do before I can go to sleep. You will excuse me, then, if I bid good-night to you." After exchanging the usual buenas noches, the Senator returned to his own chamber and couch, to dream of his future riches and grandeur.
As soon as it was over, which was not very soon, for I could have gone on eating a long while for the very pleasure of meeting the pretty little fingers in the plate, we rose, the mats and dishes were cleared away, and we resumed the dancing, and it was at a late hour that we made our buenas nochas to the fair girls of Samboangan. We remained in this delightful little place for two days.
MY DEAR SIR: I beg permission to inform you that there is in my house as a temporary guest a young man who arrived in Buenas Tierras from the United States some days ago. Without wishing to excite any hopes that may not be realized, I think there is a possibility of his being your long-absent son. It might be well for you to call and see him.
"Buenas noches, Señor," said the rider, a Mexican, swinging himself from the saddle and ascending the steps to where Dick stood. "Good evening," replied the latter in Spanish, eyeing the man curiously. "I wish," continued the stranger, "to speak with one Señor Yankton who, I was told, lives in Santa Fé. Perhaps, Señor, you can tell me where I may find him?" "I am Señor Yankton. What do you want?"
It is important. You may be watched and followed; you understand?" The man nodded. They are a taciturn people in Aragon and Navarre so taciturn that in politely greeting the passer on the road they cut down the curt good-day. "Buenas," they say, and that is all. "Go with God," said the Count, and the messenger left the room noiselessly, for they wear no shoe-leather in this dry land.
He was a Mexican of the lowest and most brutal type, with a swarthy skin, black hair and a bullet-shaped head. Ramon walked toward him. “Buenas Dias, amigo,” he saluted. The man looked up with eyes full of patient suffering, like the eyes of a hurt animal. He did not seem either surprised or frightened. He nodded and went on binding up his leg. Ramon watched him a minute.
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