Billy sighed and shook his head.
"There ain't no such luck for me," he said. "She's married
to another gink now."
They came at last to the hut, upon the shady side of which
they found a Mexican squatting puffing upon a cigarette, while
upon the doorstep sat a woman, evidently his wife, busily
engaged in the preparation of some manner of foodstuff
contained in a large, shallow vessel. About them played a
couple of half-naked children. A baby sprawled upon a blanket
just within the doorway.
The man looked up, suspiciously, as the two approached.
Bridge saluted him in fairly understandable Spanish, asking for
food, and telling the man that they had money with which to
pay for a little--not much, just a little.
The Mexican slowly unfolded himself and arose, motioning
the strangers to follow him into the interior of the hut. The
woman, at a word from her lord and master, followed them,
and at his further dictation brought them frijoles and tortillas.
The price he asked was nominal; but his eyes never left
Bridge's hands as the latter brought forth the money and
handed it over. He appeared just a trifle disappointed when
no more money than the stipulated purchase price was revealed to sight.
"Where you going?" he asked.
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