"They seem so cordial," he said, "these Spanish gentlemen. I cannot believe that they hate us, as it is said."
"Ah, Senor." Inez' smile had faded and her deep and troubled eyes held his. "They have cause for hatred, though they come in all good will to welcome you."
As it chanced, they passed just then close to a little group in which Alcalde Bartlett made a central figure. Two of Stockton's aids were hanging on his words.
"Tomorrow, gentlemen, we shall go riding. I will find you each a worthy mount. We raise fine horses on the ranches."
The fiery Sanchez, strolling by, overheard as well. Eyes ablaze, he went on swiftly joining Vasquez and De Haro near the door. They held low converse for an instant with their smouldering glances on the pompous Bartlett. Then they hurried out.
"Ah, Senor," Inez' smile had faded ... "they have cause for hatred."