"Don Manuel considers himself deeply insulted, and desires through me, his friend, to present this note."
Dick looked at the envelope, and back at the youth who had handed it to him, after which he crowded in and pump-handled the other's arm again.
"That's awfully good of him, Mr. 'Tain't-so."
"My name is Ainsa, at your service," corrected the New Mexican.
"Beg pardon—Ainsa. I expect I hadn't ought to have irrigated the don so thorough, but it's real good of him to overlook it and write me a friendly note. It's uncommon handsome of him after I disarranged his laundry so abrupt."
"If the señor will read the letter—" interrupted the envoy desperately.
"Certainly. But let me offer you something to drink first, Mr. Ain't-so."
"Ainsa."
"Ainsa, I should say. A plain American has to go some to round up and get the right brand on some of these blue-blooded names of yours. What'll it be?"
"Thank you. I am not thirsty. I prefer not." With which Mr. Ainsa executed another bow.