“Are you tired so soon?” he asked.
“No,” she answered, always truthful under the most trying circumstances, “but I don’t care to dance.”
The man flashed an angry glance at her and for the first time she looked in his face. Where had she seen those dark scowling eyes before?
“I didn’t catch your name,” she said. “I would like to introduce you to my cousin.”
“Hawkes,” he answered in an almost threatening tone of voice.
“Why, you are—” but she never finished the sentence for the man named Hawkes had abruptly turned away.
“Strange,” said Billie to herself, reflecting inwardly on the passing likenesses one sees everywhere. “But, no, it is impossible, for this man is very well dressed, better than any man in the room, I think, and besides he’s Rosina Steptoe’s brother.”
CHAPTER XI.—THE HAWKES FAMILY.
Breathless and flushed with exercise the other girls now dropped into their seats. The hot, crowded room, the dust raised by the shuffling of many feet on the floor and the strange company rather bewildered them. Only Nancy had really enjoyed the experience, because Jim was an excellent dancer; and he had guided her carefully through the mazes of the jigging two-step.
But there was to be further entertainment before they might be allowed to stroll out under the stars and breathe in the fresh air. A Mexican cowboy with a broad crimson sash around his waist, a border of bright-colored fringe edging the side of his trousers and jingling spurs on his high-heeled boots, danced a wild fandango to a Spanish tune with a throbbing accompaniment on the guitar, which seemed to grow faster and faster as he struck his heels on the floor.