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"No?" cried John Parker, feigning profound amazement. "Es verdad. Eet ees true, señor. Those boy hee's happy, no? Eh?" "Apparently." "You bet you my life. Well, las' night those boy hee's peench weeth his thumb an' theese fingair what you suppose?" "I give it up, Pablo." Pablo wiped away with a saddle-colored paw a benignant and paternal smile. He wagged his head and scuffed his heel in the dirt.
For what use eet is for live now I don' tell you. Those ol' man who speak me leave theese rancho he is your father, no?" "Yes, Pablo. And he isn't such a terrible man, once you get acquainted with him." "I don' like," Pablo muttered frankly. "He have eye like lookin'-glass. Mebbeso for you, mees, eet is different, but for Pablo Artelan " he shrugged.
No, sir, I keel it you so queeck but my Don Mike hes never forget hes one great caballero so Pablo Artelan mus' not forget, too you sleep in theese hacienda, you eat the food ah, señor, I am so 'shame' for you and my Don Mike hees dead hees dead " He slid suddenly off the black mare and lay unconscious in the dust beside her.
We uns air ter take no chances wid theese Wilminton darkies. I ain't ferget Seventy-six. Let nun git by without bein' sarched, uman er man. Shoot ef they resiss. Them's the Kurnel's orders." "Who is this man Isaacs?" asked a stranger from Georgia. "A Jew?" "Thet name's Jewey e'nuff fur yir, ain't it?" replied Dick Sands. "He is er Jew, an er good un, I tell yer.
"Theese are picture for Melisse!" he whispered tensely. "We teach her we show her we mak her know about ceevilize people!" Cummins replaced the books, one at a time, and each he held tenderly for a moment, wiping and blowing away the dust gathered upon it. At the last one of all, which was more ragged and worn than the others, he gazed for a long time.
For long time since Don Miguel he's beeg like leetle baby, thees Basque he cannot set the foot on the Rancho Palomar, but to-day, because he theenk Don Miguel don' leeve, theese fellow have the beeg idea she's all right for come to theese rancho. Well, he come." Here Pablo shrugged. "I think mebbeso you tell theese Loustalot Don Miguel have come back. Car-ramba! He is scared like hell.
He spoke of this to the bateau man, who shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "Eet ees ze command of St. Pierre," he explained. "St. Pierre say no man make beeg noise at what you call heem funeral? An' theese goin' to be wan gran' fun-e-RAL, m'sieu!" "I see," David nodded. He did not grin back at the other's humor. He was looking at the crowd.
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