"Yes, yes, Señor Padre," exclaimed Barcelo, "what rag-and-bobtail followed you that night! But it's the way with Indians. They run as children after anything that promises excitement. How like wet-dogs-on-horseback they looked. Poor Mendoza here quite lost his head when his daughter's carreta turned up missing. Lucky I was there. Why, just send your Indians back-trail in such a case and they can find anything."
The Colonel looked around in a self-satisfied way.
"Why, husband," said Señora Barcelo, "how you so talk! As I say, you are so irrepressible! It always seems you are nowhere but just in the front of everything."
"Quite the place for a soldier, señora, quite the place."
Here Mendoza interposed. "Señoras and señors, will you not be seated?"
"Certainly," replied Barcelo. "Certainly."
"Colonel Barcelo, may I ask you if anything has been heard of the Englishman who two days ago disappeared in Monterey City?" said Señor Mendoza.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the stentorian Colonel. "Why, ha! ha! ha! I should say something has been heard of the fellow. He walked into my house half an hour before I left with some cock-and-bull story of having been kidnaped. Kidnaped! Ha! ha! ha! Good!"
The Colonel arose and stood before the others. "Let me give you my theory of the affair," self-complacency shining on his rotund face.
"Husband, some other time. The guests are surely arriving and Señor Mendoza wishes to be occupied with them."