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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Gringos"

He loved that horse more than he had ever believed he could
love an animal; and he was mentally sacrificing him to Jack's need.
Jack went up and rubbed Surry's nose playfully; and it cost Dade a
jealous twinge to see how the horse responded to the touch.
"He won't get hurt. I've taught him how to take care of himself; haven't
I, Diego?" And he put the statement into Spanish, so that the peon
could understand.
"Si, he will never let the riata touch him, Senor. Truly, it is well
that he will come at the call, for otherwise he would never again he
caught!" Diego grinned, checked himself on the verge of venturing
another comment, and tilted his head sidewise instead, his ears perked
toward the medley of fiesta sounds outside.
"Listen, Senors! That is not the squeal of carts alone, which I hear. It
is the carriage that has wheels made of little sticks, that chatters
much when it moves. Americanos are coming, Senors."
"Americanos!" Dade glanced quickly at Jack, mutely questioning. "I
wonder if--" He gave Surry a hasty, farewell slap on the shoulder and
went out into the sunshine and the clamor of voices and laughter, with
the creaking of carts threaded through it all. The faint, unmistakable
rattle of a wagon driven rapidly, came towards them. While they stood
listening, came also a confused jumble of voices emitting sounds which
the two guessed were intended for a song. A little later, above the
high-pitched rattle of the wagon wheels, they heard the raucous,
long-drawn "Yank-ee doo-oo-dle da-a-andy!" which confirmed their
suspicions and identified the comers as gringos beyond a doubt.


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