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Updated: June 3, 2025
Melissy, sitting on the porch with her foot resting on a second chair, knew a slight quickening of the blood as she watched him approach. "Good evenin', Miss M'lissy," he cried, sweeping his sombrero as low as the stirrup. "Buenos tardes, Señor Norris," she flung back gayly. Sitting at ease in the saddle, he leisurely looked her over with eyes that smoldered behind half-shuttered lids.
The thing moved, stirred and finally galvanized into life. It was finally revealed as the figure of a rather ill-favored Mexican, unusually tall for one of his race who are, as a rule, squat and small. "Buenas tardes, Juan!" greeted Buck Bellew. "Buenas tardes, senors," was the response. "But what for do you disturb me in thees way.
The greeting was never a hearty, individual phrase of the speaker's own choosing, but always the invariable "Adios, Buenos dias, tardes or noche," even though I had already addressed some inquiry to them. Replies to questions of distance were as stereotyped, with the diminutive ito beloved of the Central Americans tacked on wherever possible: "Larguita 'sta! A la vueltita no mas! Esta cerquita!
Tony Moreno, on his part, doffed his shabby sombrero with his right hand and murmured courteously, "Buenas tardes, Don Miguel." Pablo he ignored. With his left hand, he caught a yellow envelope as it fell from under the hat. "Good-afternoon, Moreno." Don Miguel returned his salutation with a gravity he felt incumbent upon one of his station to assume when addressing a social inferior.
Merriam to come out for just a few moments that I may speak with him?" Tio Pancho bowed as an elephant bows. "Buenas tardes, Senora Conant," he said, as a cavalier talks. And then he went on, less at his ease: "But does not the senora know that Senor Merriam sailed on the Pajaro for Panama at three o'clock of this afternoon?"
With the characteristic ease and grace of a Spanish woman, she gave the usual salutation for the hour of the day, "Buenas tardes, senores caballeros;" to which we responded by a suitable salutation. We requested of our hostess some water, which she furnished us immediately, in an earthen bowl.
He pushed the brush aside and came out. "Buenos tardes, señorita. Didn't know you were comin' back again to-day." "You've been seen," she told him hurriedly as she dismounted. "Dad's gathering his men. He means to make you trouble." Billie looked away in the direction of the town. A mile or more away he saw a cloud of dust. It was moving toward them. "I see he does," he answered quietly. "Quick!
"Que hay, Roderico?" responded Ignacio, coming to lean languidly against the veranda post. He removed his hat elaborately, his liquid eyes doing justice to Virginia's dainty charm. "Buenos tardes, señorita," he greeted her. "What is new, Ignacio?" queried Norton, "No bells for you to ring for the last ten days! You grow fat in idleness, amigo mio." Ignacio sighed and rolled his cigarette.
The impulse was on him to cut across to the cottonwood grove on the dead run, but he knew this would never do. Instead, he sauntered easily into the moonlight with the negligence of one who has all night before his casual steps. The sharp command of the guard outside slackened his stride. "Gabriel," he called back over his shoulder without stopping. "Si, señor. Buenos tardes." "Buenos."
The superstructure of the Tardes viaduct had already withstood the tempest of the 23d and the 24th of January, 1884, and neither any alteration in its direction nor any change in the parts that held it upon the pile could be perceived. But on the night of January 26-27 the storm doubled in violence, and the work was precipitated into the ravine.
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