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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Beth Norvell A Romance of the West"

Then he unfolded briefly the plan adopted for
relief. It was the impulsive Mexican who broke the silence that
followed his conclusion.
"Si, I see dat!" she exclaimed, leaning eagerly forward, her head
between her hands. "Eet vas ver' good vay. But you tink dar be fight
soon? You tink so? Beell, he tink so? Den you no like dat de Senor
Brown be avay? No, no, you no like be lef' alone ven de fight come?
He big, strong, brav'; he bettah as ten men, hey? Eet vas so, I tell
you. I go vis de message, si; Senor Brown he stay here. Vould not dat
be de bettah?"
Winston shifted uneasily upon his cracker-box, his gaze wandering from
the animated face confronting him to that of the other farther back
amid the shadows, still grave and full of doubt.
"You?" he exclaimed in surprise. "Surely you do not suppose we would
ever permit you to attempt such a thing."
"No? An' vy not, senor?" springing impulsively to her feet, her eyes
opening wide. "Maybe you tink I not know how ride? Maybe you tink I
vas 'fraid of de dark? or dat I lose my vay? You tink me leetle girl,"
and she snapped her fingers indignantly.


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