CHAPTER XXI
THE HACIENDA
“That must be it over there,” Walker Jamieson pointed to a low rambling building nestled among the hills, as the car swung around a curve in the road.
The party had, despite sundry irritating delays, left Mexico City in the middle of the forenoon, and now, as evening approached they did sight the hacienda, their destination and proposed home for the summer.
“About time,” Adair MacKenzie said curtly. “Hundred miles from Mexico City. Humph! That’s what they told me in Memphis. Hundred miles maybe, as the crow flies, but on this treacherous piece of bandit-infested highway it’s at least two hundred.”
He looked about him, as he finished, as though he was daring someone to gainsay him. No one accepted the dare.
“What’s the matter?” he surveyed the silent group. “All worn out?” Again, there was no answer.
“Say, you,” he looked directly at Nan now, “are you backing down on your old cousin? Don’t know what’s happened,” he continued. “Can’t even get anyone to fight with me any more.” He really sounded pathetic.
At this, the whole group broke down in laughter.
“What is this?” Adair laughed too now, but his face bore a puzzled expression.
“Nothing, dad.” Alice wiped the tears from her eyes.