"Yes, Señor Americano; all! all!" replied Cocom, with grave dignity. "Don Pedro will be safe with me."
"You can show him butterflies?"
"Señor, I can show him butterflies, ants, beetles, wasps; all the Señor desires to behold."
"That being so, Peter, you had better get away," said Jack, impatiently. "I want to be off, and must see you started first; you can't be trusted to run the show on your own account."
"I'm quite ready. Good-bye, boys; I will see you this afternoon."
"Not me," said Duval, brusquely; "I'm off to Maraquando's estancia."
"Take care of the sun, Peter," warned Philip, kindly; "your head isn't over strong."
Peter indignantly repudiated this imputation on his cranium, and forthwith followed Cocom out of the house, gleefully looking forward to a pleasant day. His ideas of pleasure were singularly limited.
"He's quite safe, isn't he, Jack?" said Philip anxiously. "I don't want Peter to get into trouble."
"Oh, Cocom will look after him. I know the old man well. He is devoted to Don Miguel, who once saved his life. Cocom will sit on a bank and watch Peter gasping after butterflies. The exercise will do the doctor's liver good."