"Hello! There you are, eh?" Darwin K. Anthony exclaimed, gruffly.
"Where's that girl?" He paused and let his hostile eyes rest upon
Gertrudis.
She saw a great, forbidding giant of a man scowling down at her with eyes like Kirk's, and she came forward timidly, holding out her hands. She was smiling up at him faintly.
"You are Keerk's father, yes? You are the Senor Antonio."
Mr. Anthony uttered a curious, choking exclamation, and gathered her gently in his arms. When he looked up, his eyes were wet and his deep-lined face was working.
"I couldn't wait any longer," he apologized humbly to his son. "I had to come and see her."
"Ah, then I hope you will like me," she said in her grave, quaint way.
"Your father has told me everything"—Garavel laid a hand upon his new son's shoulder—"and we have become good friends already. I fear I owe you a great apology, my boy; but if I consent that you take my little girl away to your country, will that be reparation?"
"Then you WILL let her go with us?" Kirk cried, happily.
"If she doesn't go, I'll stay," Anthony Senior rumbled. "I—I don't see how you ever did it, you're such a blamed fool. Now let's go back to the house, it's sundown."
"We'll be along directly," his son assented.