“Oh! certainly,” replied I; “use your own pleasure, Don Cosmé, but do not put your household to any inconvenience.”
In a few minutes we found our way to the house, which was neither more nor less than the cage-looking structure already described.
Chapter Twelve.
A Mexican Dinner.
“Pasan adentro, Señores,” said Don Cosmé, drawing aside the curtain of the rancho, and beckoning us to enter.
“Ha!” exclaimed the major, struck with the coup-d’oeil of the interior.
“Be seated, gentlemen. Ya vuelvo.” (I will return in an instant.)
So saying, Don Cosmé disappeared into a little porch in the back, partially screened from observation by a close network of woven cane.