“He was resting at the edge of the thicket, señorita,” corrected the girl. “Always such as he keep near the edge so that it becomes for them thus easy to strike the small creatures they hunt. So you missed him and he sang the song of death. I heard that song and came. He had eaten not long ago, I believe, and was lazy. So he did not try to go away. Now he is dead. So if the enemy comes to me, I must conquer. This is a true saying.”
CHAPTER XV
DOLORES
A sudden silence fell upon the two girls as the picturesque little stranger made this solemn announcement. Now that the excitement was over the wood nymph began to show signs of returning shyness.
Fearing that she might turn and run away, Patsy stretched forth a slim white hand and said winningly:
“I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am for what you did. You were very brave, I think. I’m ever so glad to know you. Can’t we be friends?”
The girl hesitated, a wistful look in her large dark eyes. Very slowly she put her small brown hand into Patsy’s extended one.
“I will give you the hand because already I like you,” she said. “I cannot be your friend because I am too poor. Always I must wear the old ugly dress. Always I must go with the feet bare.”
“That has nothing to do with our being friends,” was Patsy’s gentle assurance. “I’m bare-footed, too.” She laughed and thrust forward one pink, bare foot. “Just look at my bathing suit. It was wet when I started after you. Falling down didn’t improve it.”