y mask.

"How's my girl?" he asked, holding her close.

"Sick of waiting so long for you, dear one," she answered. "My eyes
are dim with always gazing into that devil's pincushion through which
you come. And I can see into it such a little way, too. But you are
here, beloved one, and I will not scold. /Que mal muchacho/! not to
come to see your /alma/ more often. Go in and rest, and let me water
your horse and stake him with the long rope. There is cool water in
the jar for you."

The Kid kissed her affectionately.

"Not if the court knows itself do I let a lady stake my horse for me,"
said he. "But if you'll run in, /chica/, and throw a pot of coffee
together while I attend to the /caballo/, I'll be a good deal
obliged."

Besides his marksmanship the Kid had another attribute for which he
admired himself greatly. He was /muy caballero/, as the Mexicans
express it, where the ladies were concerned. For them he had always
gentle words and consideration. He could not have spoken a harsh word
to a woman. He might ruthlessly slay their husbands and brothers, but
he could not have laid the weight of a finger in anger upon a woman.
Wherefore many of that interesting division of humanity who had come
under the spell of his politeness declared their disbelief in the
stories circulated about Mr. Kid. One shouldn't believe everything one
heard, they said. When confronted by their indignant men folk with
proof of the /caballero's/ deeds of infamy, they said maybe he had
been driven to it, and that he knew how to treat a lady, anyhow.

Considering this extremely courteous idiosyncrasy of the Kid and the
pride he took in it, one can perceive that the solution of the problem
that was presented to him by what he saw and heard from his hiding-
place in the pear that afternoon (at least as to one of the actors)
must have been obscured by difficulties. And yet one could not think
of the Kid overlooking little matters of that kind.

At the end of the short twilight they gathered around a supper of
/frijoles/, goat steaks, canned peaches, and coffee, by the light of a
lantern in the /jacal/. Afterward, the ancestor, his flock corralled,
smoked a cigarette and became a mummy in a grey blanket. Tonia washed
the few dishes while the Kid dried them with the flour-sacking towel.
Her eyes shone; she chatted volubly of the inconsequent happenings of
her small world since the Kid's last visit; it was as all his other
home-comings had been.