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Updated: May 14, 2025
Seizing his prisoner by the throat, he pinned him to the wall; then with his free hand he cocked Longorio's revolver and thrust its muzzle against José's body. "Tell me!" he repeated. His countenance was so distorted, his expression so maniacal, that José felt his hour had come.
"And perhaps it would be well for one to stay here and watch." The tall Brazilian's eyes narrowed. "There is no danger of loss," he asserted, with dignity. "We men of the coronel are not thieves." The slight emphasis of his last sentence might have been taken as an intimation that some one else not far away would bear watching. José's mouth tightened.
José's head vaquero was in town when the Vigilantes returned with their Captain and those others, and there were many rumors. This morning I sent Valencia to learn the truth, and if you were in danger Perhaps I could have done little, but I should have tried to save you," he added simply. "I should not like a clash with the gringos pardon, Señors; I speak of the class whom you also despise."
This time he returned with a fine basket of Indian workmanship, and this was filled in part by glittering stones and in part by flowers. All these he deposited on the bed beside the lamb, and folded his arms behind him in profound satisfaction. He had done his very best. He had given the sick one all his things. If that didn't cure him it would be no further business of José's.
He got hold of Jose's bridle, and before I could catch my breath he said I was a peach, and that he wanted to make a date with me, that his name was Chase, that he owned a gold mine in Mexico. He said a lot more I didn't gather, but when he called me 'Dearie' I well, I lost my temper. "I jerked on the bridle and told him to let go. He held on and rolled his eyes at me.
"It will be better not to show any distrust," he whispered; "at the same time, it might be hazardous to lead Jose to our retreat." "What are we to do, then?" I asked. "We will tell him to go and find your father, and conduct him to this spot: if he comes, we need no longer have any doubts about Jose's fidelity."
I think there is not one here," continued the padre, looking around him impressively, "who is not entirely satisfied of Don Jose's reason and competency to arrange his own affairs." "Entirely," "truly," "perfectly," eagerly responded the others with affecting spontaneity. "Nay, more.
It was Antonio's voice, it was José's arm, it was the field of wild oats, the sky above his head, all unchanged. "What has happened?" said the priest feebly. "A giddiness seized your reverence just now, as we were coming to seek you." "And you met no one?" "No one, your reverence." Father Pedro passed his hand across his forehead.
I have never showed it to anybody yet except to a drunken old Portuguese trader who translated it for me, and had forgotten all about it by the next morning. The original rag is at my home in Durban, together with poor Dom José's translation, but I have the English rendering in my pocket-book, and a facsimile of the map, if it can be called a map. Here it is."
The Greaser admits he may have busted off the fastenin' of that single blinder down Pinto's nose. Anyhow, Pinto runs a few short jumps, and then stops, lookin' troubled. The next minute he hides his face on the Greaser and there is a glimpse of bright, glad sunlight on the bottom of Jose's moccasins.
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