Say! that hit her right, _I_ tell y'! But I had to go put my foot in it, a-course. "Yas, _you,_" I goes on. "Mebbe you noticed Boston's here pretty frequent?" "Si! si! si! señor!" "That's 'cause he's been studyin' you--so's he could use you fer a book char_ac_ter." "So!" she said. "_That_ is it! _that_ is why!" Mad? Golly! Them black eyes of hern just snapped, and she grabbed a hunk of bread and begun knifin' it. "Wal," I says, "you don't seem t' ketch on to the fact that you been handed out a blamed big compliment. A person in a _book_ is _some potatoes._" "No! _no!_ señor!" Pride hurt, I says to myself. "Now, Carlota," I begun, "don't cut off you' nose t' spite you' face. Pedro Garcia is turrible tickled that we ast _him._" "Pedro--puf!" "In the book," I goes on, "he's the bad man that loves you so much he cain't help stealin' you." "I _hate_ Pedro," she says. "He is like that--bad." "But we ain't astin' you t' _like_ him, and he don't _git_ you. He drops you off at Johnson's and takes a dummy the rest of the way. We want t' make Boston _think_ they's danger." "So?" All of a suddent, she didn't seem nigh as mad--and she looked like she'd just thought of somethin'. I seen my chanst. "That was the way we fixed it up," I goes on. "A-course, now you don't want t' be the hero_ine,_ I'll ast one of the eatin'-house gals. I reckon _they_ won't turn me down." And I moseyed towards the door. "Cupid," she calls, "come back. You say, he will think another man loves me so much that he carries me away?" "You got it," I answers. She showed them little nippers of hern. "Good!" she says. "I do it!" "But, Carlota, listen. Boston ain't to be next that this is a put-up job. He's to think it's genuwine. Savvy? And he'll git all the feelin's of a real kidnap. Now, to fool him right, you got to do one thing: Be nice t' Pedro when Boston's 'round." Little nippers again. "I do it," she says. I started t' go, but she called me back. "He will think another man loves me so much that he carries me away?" she repeats. "_Shore,_" I says. And she let me go. Y' know, _flirtin'_ was Carlota's strong suit. And that very evenin' I seen her talkin' acrosst the counter to Pedro sweeter'n panocha,--with a takin' smile on the south end of that cute little face of hern. But her _eyes_ wasn't smilin'--and a Spanish gal's eyes don't lie. But supper was late, and Boston and me was at a table clost by,--him lookin' ugly tempered. So ole lady Arnaz tole Carlota t' jar loose. And pretty soon we was wrastlin' our corn-beef, and Pedro was gone. Rawson sit down nigh us. "Cupid," he says solemn, "reckon we won't git to play that game of draw t'-night." And he give my foot a kick. "Why?" I ast. "Account of Pedro bein' in town. I figger t' stay clost to the bunk-house." "So 'll _I_," I says, and begun examinin' my shootin'-iron mighty anxious. "Who's this Pedro?" ast Boston.