“Why not?” asked Billie. “I’m not going to be made dog meat.”
“You’ll be made worse than that if you kill one of the peon’s dogs.”
Just what might have been the outcome of the
situation is hard to tell, had not a voice of authority suddenly rang out from the direction of the house:
“Vaya te, perros! Vaya te!”[1]
The dogs ceased their angry barking, and slunk hastily away, while Billie, looking in the direction from which the voice proceeded, saw Pedro riding around the kitchen.
[CHAPTER VI.—ADRIAN MAKES A CAPTURE.]
“By George!” exclaimed Billie, as he advanced to meet Pedro, “you surely did come right in the nick of time. I thought I’d have to become dog-meat, just to keep the others out of trouble, and I was going to do it.”
“I don’t think that would have been necessary,” declared Donald, as he came out from the kitchen, followed by Adrian. “But I’m glad you got out of the trouble without killing the peon’s dog. I know how much the peons think of their dogs—more than their wives.”
“I’m very sorry,” said Pedro, “that you should have had so much trouble, and that I did not take you home with me yesterday. My uncle says I was very rude not to have brought you home to breakfast.”