"Three weeks longer? Ah--I--Well--Perhaps--"
"Stop!" cried Dolores, placing her hand over her father's mouth--"not a word. Don't you understand? He don't want to stay three minutes longer. He wants to get you into a new bargain, and cheat you."
"Ah!" said the landlord, with a knowing wink. "But, my child, you are really too harsh. You must not mind her, gentlemen. She's only a willful young girl--a spoiled child--a spoiled child."
"Her language is a little strong," said Buttons, "but I don't mind what she says."
"You may deceive my poor, kind, simple, honest, unsuspecting father," said she, "but you can't deceive me."
"Probably not."
"Buttons, hadn't we better go?" said Dick; "squabbling here won't benefit us."
"Well," said Buttons, slowly, and with a lingering look at Dolores.
But as Dolores saw them stoop to take their valises she sprang to the door-way.
"They're going! They're going!" she cried. "And they will rob us. Stop them."