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Este estudiante me escribió pocos dias despues preguntándome por el libro: yo no le respondí, porque no hubo con quien, ni despues acá he sabido ni oido mas dél, porque no volvió mas á Salamanca, ni yo me he acordado dél hasta este punto. No me acuerdo bien si me dijo un dia que quien le habia dado aquel libro habia experimentado lo de los conjuros.
So many don't dine till five or six, that one cannot begin before eight or nine; and then it takes a long time to get into the spirit of the evening. It is always more pleasant after supper than before." "Well, I'm too tired to-night to reform the world in the matter of dances or balls. What are you copying, Amy?" "Only that little Spanish air you sing, 'Quien quiera."
Now he had work to accomplish in the open; he was going to stay with the Kid after that, quien sabe? So he smiled somewhat soberly, swore softly to himself, and strode on. He had never yet thrown down his cards merely because luck had taken a bad turn.
Further, as innocent as a fool, I carried a message to them in a cut and tied saddle string. A message that was a passport for me; what other significance it carried, quién sabe? There's a red tassel on my horse's bridle; that might be another sign, as far as you and I know.
He had had no time to formulate a plan since that morning, when, tortured with thirst, he had ventured near the spring at the headwaters of Broderson Creek, on Quien Sabe, and had all but fallen into the hands of the posse that had been watching for that very move.
She laughed and teasingly said: "Quien sabe, senor," but seeing my real anxiety on this point, she assured me that she was not leaving for the present. The Colonel, she said, had a strange belief that once a man had served on the Flanders Front, and especially on the Ypres salient, he always came back to die there.
If this paroxysm of sorrow was to assail him again that night, there was but one place for him to be. He would go to the Mission he would see Father Sarria; he would pass the night in the deep shadow of the aged pear trees in the Mission garden. He struck out across Quien Sabe, his face, the face of an ascetic, lean, brown, infinitely sad, set toward the Mission church.
The master of Quien Sabe, in top laced boots and campaign hat, a cigar in his teeth, followed along beside the carry-all. Hilma and Mrs. Derrick were on the back seat, young Vacca driving. Harran and Presley bowed, taking off their hats. "Hello, hello, Pres," cried Annixter, over the heads of the intervening crowd, standing up in his stirrups and waving a hand, "Great day! What a mob, hey?
It had been one of the Kid's pastimes to shoot Mexicans "to see them kick": if he demanded from them moribund Terpsichorean feats, simply that he might be entertained, what terrible and extreme penalties would be certain to follow should they anger him! One and all they lounged with upturned palms and shrugging shoulders, filling the air with "/quien sabes/" and denials of the Kid's acquaintance.
Alicia interrupted her friend, exclaiming: "What a little fool you are, to be sure! We were only joking. Do you think Enrique would really do any such crazy thing for me? What nonsense!" Proudly the student repeated: "¿Quién sabe?" Then, after a little silence, he added: "I don't know what makes you talk that way. You've never proved me. You don't know what kind of a man I am!"
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