The Gringos: A Story Of The Old California Days In 1849Bower, B. M.
General
The Gringos: A Story Of The Old California Days In 1849
Bower, B. M.
California -- Fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Fiction; Western stories
Bill grunted, lay down again, and stared up at the wide-pronged sycamore
leaves. "Darn my oldest sister's cat's eyes if I ever seen anything like
it!" he exploded suddenly, and closed his eyes in a vast content.
From the barbecue pits there came an appetizing odor of roasting beef;
high-keyed voices flung good-humored taunts, and once they heard a great
shout of laughter surge through the crowd gathered there. From the great
platform built under a group of live oaks near the patio they heard the
resonant plunk-plunk-plunk of a harp making ready for the dance, and the
shrill laughter of slim señoritas hovering there. Down the slope before
the three the shadows stretched longer and longer. A violin twanged in
the tuning, the harp-strings crooning the key.
"You fellows are going to dance, ain't yuh?" Bill inquired lazily, when
his cigar was half gone to ashes and smoke. "Jack, here, can get
pardners enough to keep him going fer a week--judging by the eyes them
Spanish girls have been making at him since the duel and the
horse-breaking.
"Say! How about that sassy-eyed Picardo girl? I ain't seen you and her
in speaking distance all day; and the way you was buzzing around her
when I was down here before--"
"Say, Jack," Dade interrupted, diplomacy winning against politeness, "I
never dreamed you'd have the nerve to try that fancy corkscrew throw of
yours before all that crowd. Why, after two years to get out of
practice, you took an awful chance of making a fool of yourself! Y'see,
Bill," he explained with a deliberate garrulity, "that throw he made
when he caught the horse was the finest bit of rope-work that's been
done to-day. I don't believe there's another man in the crowd that could
do it; and the chances are they never saw it done before, even! I know I
never saw but one man beside Jack that could do it. Jack was always at
it, when we happened to be laying around with nothing to do, and I know
he had to keep his hand in, or he'd make a fizzle of it. Of course," he
conceded, "you didn't miss--but if you had--Wow!" He shook his head at
the bare possibility.
Jack grinned at him. "I'm not saying how much moonlight I used up,
practicing out in the orchard when everybody else was asleep. I reckon
I've made that corkscrew five thousand times in the last three weeks!"
"Where you belong," bantered Dade, "is on the stage. You do love to
create a sensation, better than any one I ever--"
"Señors--" Diego came hurriedly out of the shadows behind them. "The
patron begs that you will honor his table by dining with him to-night.
In one little half-hour will he hope to see you; and Don José Pacheco
will also be happy to meet the señors, if it is the pleasure of the
señors to meet him and dine in his company. The patron," added Diego,
with the faintest suspicion of a twinkle in his pensive black eyes,
"desires also that I shall extend to you the deep regret of the señora
and the señorita because it will be impossible for them to be present."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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