Barbara swung herself from the saddle, and handed her
bridle reins to Eddie.
"Hold him, please," she said. "I'll be gone but a moment."
"You're not goin' in there to see old Jose alone?" gasped
Eddie.
"Why not?" she asked. "If you're afraid you can leave my
horse and ride along home."
Eddie colored to the roots of his sandy hair, and kept
silent. The girl approached the doorway of the mean hovel
and peered within. At one end sat a bent old man, smoking.
He looked up as Barbara's figure darkened the doorway.
"Jose!" said the girl.
The old man rose to his feet and came toward her.
"Eh? Senorita, eh?" he cackled.
"You are Jose?" she asked.
"Si, senorita," replied the old Indian. "What can poor old
Jose do to serve the beautiful senorita?"
"You can carry a message to one of Pesita's officers,"
replied the girl. "I have heard much about you since I came to
Mexico. I know that there is not another man in this part of
Chihuahua who may so easily reach Pesita as you." She raised
her hand for silence as the Indian would have protested. Then
she reached into the pocket of her riding breeches and withdrew
a handful of silver which she permitted to trickle, tinklingly,
from one palm to the other.
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