"It is all very fine to talk, Hugh; but when you get on a bucking broncho that sends you flying about ten yards through the air, and you come down kerplump, I never seed a man yet as would pick himself up and speak as if he wur in a church. No, sir; it's not in human nature."
When they got back to the hotel Hugh observed that questioning glances were cast at them by several men who were lounging about the steps. Royce observed it also.
"What have those fellows got in their heads, I wonder?" he said. "Do they reckon we are two bad, bold men who have been holding up some Mexican village, or do they take us for horse-thieves? There is something wrong, Hugh, you bet."
"They certainly didn't look friendly, Royce, though I am sure I don't know what it is about. You haven't been winking at any of their women, have you?"
"G'ar long with yer!" Royce laughed. "As if any of them would look at a little chap like me while I am walking along of you. If there has been any winking it's you as has done it."
"I am quite innocent, Royce, I assure you. Still there is something wrong. Well, let us go and see that the horses are fed."
There were five or six men in the yard. They were talking excitedly together when Hugh and his companion came out of the hotel, but they were at once silent, and stood looking at them as they crossed the yard and went into the stable.
"Thar's something wrong," Royce repeated. "If my horse wur as good as yours, Hugh, I should say let's settle up quietly and ride out and make a bolt; but they would overtake me in no time."
"That would never do, Royce. I don't know what their suspicions are, but they would be confirmed if we were to try to escape, and if they overtook us the chances are they wouldn't give us much time for explanations."
"You are right there, Hugh. The Mexicans hates the whites. They know that one of us can lick any three of them, and it riles them pretty considerable. They don't give a white man much show if they get their hands on him."