Part 11 (2/2)

They were walking under a perfect bower of flowers anyway. For this side was beautifully latticed and over the lattice work grew vines with purple and golden flowers, that would give a grateful shade when the California sun would drive the fog away.

Under foot there was a double flagging of stone with trodden dirt on either side.

”I don't see a broom anywhere,” said Jo.

Just then they heard the voice of Senor Sebastian behind them and they turned quickly.

”I had begun to fear, Senors, that you had become lost again.”

”We were, partially, Senor.”

”Our simple breakfast is ready now if you are,” he said.

”We will have to brush the dirt off before we can go in,” protested Jim.

”Antonio bring a brush,” called the Senor. In a moment a gray-haired, bent Mexican came with a big kitchen broom. Instantly the Senor flushed with anger.

”Stupid one, my guests are not my horses. Have a care.”

A suspicion flashed through Jim's mind that the ancient servitor had brought the broom on purpose. It was clear that the servants did not have a very high opinion of their American visitors. The next time he returned he had gotten the right brush, and made a point of sneezing as the dust flew from their mud-dried clothes. This made Jim laugh in spite of himself.

”More dust than the Sirocco brings,” said Jim. The old servitor regarded him with a cunning eye.

”Si, Senor,” he said, then he was seized with a perfect convulsion of sneezing. This aroused his master's ire.

”No more of that, Antonio,” he commanded, ”or it will be the lash.”

Antonio's cold was cured from that moment. Jim's mouth twitched at the corners with the humor of it but he did not laugh now for that would be discourteous to his host.

Finally the brus.h.i.+ng was finished to the regret of the servants, who had kept an amused eye on Antonio's performance, while pretending to be busy on some trivial tasks near the Patio or court. In her own room, the Senorita was faint with laughter as she watched Antonio dusting the two American lads.

It was a simple breakfast that the boys found prepared for them in a long, low dining-room, with its dark beams and white plastered walls.

The coffee was excellent, with a delicate aroma, and was probably the best that Mexico could afford. There was a large plate of meat garnished with peppers, and a mixed dish of vegetables that looked odd, but that tasted deliciously. You may be sure that Jim and Jo appreciated their meal, and they felt invigorated when it was finished, wis.h.i.+ng all the while, however, that they were on the trail of their captured comrades.

”Now, Senors, the horses are at the door. They are spirited, but I am sure that you ride well.”

This was a mere expression of courtesy on his part, for he did not expect any such thing and thought to see his guests fall off if the horses should rise on their hind legs, as they no doubt would, for there was not a horse on the big rancho but what was peppery and spirited. No sooner had the Senor spoke than Jim jumped to his feet, putting his hand to his head.

”I have forgotten about Caliente!” he exclaimed. ”It is my horse, Senor,” he explained to his host. ”He is up the canyon because the gang that attacked us last night were afraid of him.”

”I will send for him,” said the Senor.

”By the pool in the pocket,” said Jim. ”But I think I ought to get him myself, though I appreciate your offer, but one's horse, you know--”

”I understand perfectly.”

”I cannot leave him without food and water,” said Jim.

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