‘“We had better start early, Seth,” said he; “say at daybreak.”
‘“What for, Rube?” I said; “the Cap said we were to go in after dusk. It’s only thirty miles; we shan’t want to start till three o’clock.”
‘Rube laughed. “I don’t want to get there before dusk, but I want to start at daybreak, and I’ll tell you why. You remember Pepita?”
‘“There,” said I, “if I didn’t think it had something to do with a woman. You are always running after some one, Rube. They will get you into a scrape some day.”
‘Rube laughed. “I am big enough to get out of it if it does, Seth; but you know I did feel uncommon soft towards Pepita, and really thought of marrying and taking her back to Missouri.”
‘“Only she wouldn’t come, Rube?”
‘“Just so, Seth,” said he, laughing. “So we agreed we would be the best friends; and she asked me, if ever I went out to San Miguel, to go and see her. She said her father was generally out, but would be glad to see me if he were in. She lives in a small hacienda, a league this side of the town.”
‘I saw that it was of no use to argue, but I didn’t like it. The Mexican women hated us worse than the men did, and that warn’t easy to do; and many of our fellows had been murdered after being enticed by them to out-of-the-way places. Still, in the present case, I did not see that the girl could have expected that Rube would be there unless the rest of us were near at hand, and I did not attempt to oppose Rube’s wishes.
‘So next morning off we started, and by ten o’clock we rode up to the door of the place which Rube said answered to the description Pepita had given him. It was a pretty place, with trees round it, and might have been the residence of a small proprietor such as Pepita had described her father to be. As we rode up to the door it opened, and I saw at once that Rube were right, for a dark-eyed Mexican girl came out and looked at us inquiringly.
‘“What can I do for you, senors?” she asked.