Harboro and Sylvia followed, and presently they were quite near to two quaint old carts, heaped high with mesquite fagots destined for the humbler hearths of Eagle Pass. Donkeys were tethered near by, and two Mexicans, quite old and docile in appearance, came forward to greet the intruders.
Valdez exchanged greetings with them. He knew something of the loneliness of these people’s lives, and the only religion he had was a belief that one must be friendly to travellers. He produced a flask and invited the old men to drink; and each did so with much nice formality and thoroughly comprehensive toasts to Harboro and Sylvia.
Then Valdez replaced his flask in his pocket.
“God go with you!” he called as he went away, and “God go with you!” came back the placid, kindly echo.
And Sylvia realized suddenly that it was a very good thing indeed to be riding along that golden road through the desert.
CHAPTER XIX
Harboro became aware that some one was staring almost insolently at Sylvia.
They were seated on one of the benches disposed around the side of the stockade, and there was a great deal of noise all about them. In the open space of the stockade a score or more of young men and women were dancing to the music of violins and flutes and ’cellos. Nearly all who were not dancing were talking or laughing. People who did not see one another for months at a time were meeting and expressing their pleasure in staccato showers of words.
There were other noises in the near-by corral, in which Valdez had put their horses away with the other horses; and in still another place the work of barbecuing large quantities of meat had begun. A pleasant odor from the fire and the meat floated fitfully over the stockade. There was still an almost singular absence of wind, and the night was warm for a midwinter night.
Valdez was remaining for the time being with his guests, and he was making friendly comments upon the scene.