“Made him give it back!” exclaimed Don Alvarzo, and Ned fancied he detected disappointment in his host’s face. “You are a brave lad. Where did the fiend go?”
“Out of the window,” answered Ned. “I fired at him to give him a scare.”
“I am disgraced that such a thing should happen in my house!” exclaimed the Don, and this time it was Jerry who noticed Jones, the American manager, winking one eye as he stood behind his employer. “I am disgraced,” went on the Mexican. “But never mind, I shall inform the authorities and they will hang every robber they catch to please me.”
“I’m robbed! I’m robbed!” exclaimed Professor Snodgrass, bursting into the room. He was attired in blue pajamas, and his bald head was shining in the candle light.
“What did they get from you?” asked the Don, his face once more showing interest.
“The rascals took three fine specimens of sand fleas from me!” exclaimed the naturalist. “The loss is irreparable!”
“Diablo!” exclaimed the Don, under his breath. “Three sand fleas! Ah, these crazy Americanos!”
“I fancy you can get more, Professor,” said Jones, with a laugh. “Well, there seems to be no great damage done. I reckon we can all go back to bed now.”
The servants, who had been aroused by the commotion, went back to their rooms. In a little while the Don, with many and profuse apologies, withdrew, and the professor and Bob returned to their apartments. Jones was the last to go.