“I can’t tell you that,” admitted Leighton, adding, with a touch of humor, “perhaps he finds it comfortable on a hot day like this to get as much air as he can. Of course, I have no doubt that he would close his mouth quickly enough if any creature walked into it.”
“I agree with Mr. Leighton,” ventured the schoolmaster.
“Ah!” sniffed the doctor scornfully. “And you, Senorita?”
“Why,” said Una doubtfully, enjoying the doctor’s wrath, “he certainly does look hungry, doesn’t he? I wouldn’t trust him—although he seems to be asleep.”
“And you, Senor?” glaring at David.
“Oh, I’m not a naturalist,” he laughed. “But, he looks like a pretty good sort of trap, just the same.”
“Bueno, General, what sayest thou?” asked the doctor somewhat mollified. “What is that cayman doing there under the trees?”
General Herran gazed meditatively at the monster who was unconsciously causing this pother in natural history, and his eyes had a reminiscent twinkle as he answered the question:
“That cayman with his mouth open is like the Yankee waiting for Colombia to walk in.”
“And you walked in!” shouted Miranda delightedly.