He seated himself comfortably by the fire, threw on a dried branch or two, then, nursing one knee with his hands clasped together, he looked at the girl. Weeks of unshaven stubble gave his face a grotesque appearance, but Carmelita had a feeling of protection in the presence and friendliness of this serving man.
"You speak of the other man as 'captain' and sometimes as 'employer.' That means he is your overseer, does it not?"
"Well," in a puzzled way, "he pays me for my time, and I do the work he cuts out for me. That there sums up the relations of me and Cap'n."
The dueña stirred in her sleep. "My horses——" she muttered, then was quiet.
"Guess the old lady ain't restin' well. P'raps she's troubled with nightmare."
"No, I think she's worrying about her horses."
"Do say! Mebbe they're all the poor creetur has."
Carmelita smiled.
"Well, anyway, I hope she's got enough over and above to buy herself another wagon."
"The lady here spoke a while ago of the other man owning you——"