Frontier Boys on the Coast Part 11

"Jove! Doesn't it dazzle your eyes, Jo?" exclaimed Jim, "to see a real room, with a bed and a white spread, with those starched things where the pillows ought to be."

"This room would certainly please Aunt Maria," remarked Jo. "That four poster bed with the canopy over it, is an old timer, I'll warrant you."

"If I slept in this room," said Jim, "I would make a low bow to the bed and then roll up in my blanket and go to sleep on the floor."

"How do I look?" asked Jo, after he had rubbed and scrubbed his face for a long time.

"You have got off the first layer," replied Jim, "and look about the color of a half-breed. Let me try my hand at polishing up."

"It will take you a week," remarked Jo discouragingly.

It cannot be truly said that they looked ornamental even when they were clean, for Jim's face was badly torn, one side of it being sc.r.a.ped raw.

He got this memento when he tackled the Captain and fell down into the canyon with him. One eye was blackened and the other cheek bruised.

These disadvantages were not to be overcome in a short time.

Jo was somewhat more presentable, but he, too, showed signs of the rough time that they had had with the Captain and his "merry" crew. But in spite of all this, there was something in their bearing, an honest hardihood and manliness that could not be discounted by torn clothes and bruised faces.

"This room looks dirty, now," said Jo, "I'm ashamed to leave it like this."

"We will go outside to brush off our clothes," proposed Jim, "and I'm going to empty this dirty water myself." He started out with it when he met one of the servants in the hall. With many explanations, numerous gestures and much excitement, she took the pail from Jim and disappeared with it.

"They won't let you do anything for yourself here, Jo," reported Jim, returning to the room.

This was correct and the boys noticed afterwards that the servants regarded them with odd expressions of amus.e.m.e.nt and it was evident to the sensitive Jo that they were being "guyed" by them, to use a modern expression. The boys being American lads, were self-reliant, and were accustomed to do everything for themselves, and, unknowingly they had gone counter to a custom of constant service of the Spaniards. It was to demean oneself, according to their code, to do any menial work.

"Might as well start for the dining room," proposed Jo. "I hate leaving Tom and Juarez to their fate this way."

"I more than hate it," protested Jim, "but as you can't hurry these people, we will make the best time by falling in with their way of doing business."

Then they went out into a pa.s.sageway and, taking the wrong turn, which was quite easy in the rambling old house, they came to a door that entered into the courtyard.

"My, but this is beautiful," exclaimed Jo. "It makes you appreciate California better when you see a place like this."

"That hammock looks good to me," said Jim. "I would like to stretch out in it right now."

Just then the door opened on the verandah and a really beautiful young girl stepped out. She was probably seventeen years of age, dressed in white, with a black mantilla over her equally black hair and her dark cheeks glowed with color. A very romantic meeting, Messieurs, the gallant young Americans at one end of the verandah and the Senorita at the other. Then she saw Jim and Jo with their scarred and bruised faces.

With a little shriek, and clasping her hand to her eyes, she retreated quickly to her room.

"What did you do to scare that girl, Jo?" inquired Jim severely of his brother.

"Nothing," declared Jo, stoutly. "It was the sight of your face. It would give a wooden Injun a chill." Jim felt of the said face reflectively.

"I guess you are right, Jo," he admitted, "but you ain't so charming in appearance that you would do any damage."

"Let's walk along this side," proposed Jo. "Perhaps we will locate the breakfast."

"All right," agreed Jim.

So they stalked along, more or less conscious that a pair of dark blue eyes were regarding them, and they thought they heard a trill of laughter, but it might have been one of the maids. They need not have felt embarra.s.sed for there was the grace in their movements that goes with strength and youth and suppleness.

They were walking under a perfect bower of flowers anyway. For this side was beautifully latticed and over the lattice work grew vines with purple and golden flowers, that would give a grateful shade when the California sun would drive the fog away.

Under foot there was a double flagging of stone with trodden dirt on either side.

"I don't see a broom anywhere," said Jo.

Just then they heard the voice of Senor Sebastian behind them and they turned quickly.

"I had begun to fear, Senors, that you had become lost again."

"We were, partially, Senor."

"Our simple breakfast is ready now if you are," he said.

"We will have to brush the dirt off before we can go in," protested Jim.

"Antonio bring a brush," called the Senor. In a moment a gray-haired, bent Mexican came with a big kitchen broom. Instantly the Senor flushed with anger.

"Stupid one, my guests are not my horses. Have a care."

A suspicion flashed through Jim's mind that the ancient servitor had brought the broom on purpose. It was clear that the servants did not have a very high opinion of their American visitors. The next time he returned he had gotten the right brush, and made a point of sneezing as the dust flew from their mud-dried clothes. This made Jim laugh in spite of himself.

"More dust than the Sirocco brings," said Jim. The old servitor regarded him with a cunning eye.

"Si, Senor," he said, then he was seized with a perfect convulsion of sneezing. This aroused his master's ire.

"No more of that, Antonio," he commanded, "or it will be the lash."

Antonio's cold was cured from that moment. Jim's mouth twitched at the corners with the humor of it but he did not laugh now for that would be discourteous to his host.

Finally the brushing was finished to the regret of the servants, who had kept an amused eye on Antonio's performance, while pretending to be busy on some trivial tasks near the Patio or court. In her own room, the Senorita was faint with laughter as she watched Antonio dusting the two American lads.

It was a simple breakfast that the boys found prepared for them in a long, low dining-room, with its dark beams and white plastered walls.

The coffee was excellent, with a delicate aroma, and was probably the best that Mexico could afford. There was a large plate of meat garnished with peppers, and a mixed dish of vegetables that looked odd, but that tasted deliciously. You may be sure that Jim and Jo appreciated their meal, and they felt invigorated when it was finished, wishing all the while, however, that they were on the trail of their captured comrades.

"Now, Senors, the horses are at the door. They are spirited, but I am sure that you ride well."

This was a mere expression of courtesy on his part, for he did not expect any such thing and thought to see his guests fall off if the horses should rise on their hind legs, as they no doubt would, for there was not a horse on the big rancho but what was peppery and spirited. No sooner had the Senor spoke than Jim jumped to his feet, putting his hand to his head.

"I have forgotten about Caliente!" he exclaimed. "It is my horse, Senor," he explained to his host. "He is up the canyon because the gang that attacked us last night were afraid of him."

"I will send for him," said the Senor.

"By the pool in the pocket," said Jim. "But I think I ought to get him myself, though I appreciate your offer, but one's horse, you know--"

"I understand perfectly."

"I cannot leave him without food and water," said Jim.