Besides, he felt seriously his grave deficiencies of speech.
"I-I-I was s-sorter expectin' a-a-another kind of c-c-caller," he stuttered desperately, in explanation, every freckle standing out in prominence, "an' th-th-thought m-m-maybe somebody 'd g-g-got the d-drop on me." The girl only laughed again, her black eyes sparkling.

Yet beneath his steady, questioning gaze her face slightly sobered, a faint flush becoming apparent in either cheek.
"You talk so ver' funny, senor; you so big like de tree, an' say vords dat vay; it make me forget an' laf.

You moost not care just for me.
Pah! but it vas fight all de time vid you, was n't it, senor?
Biff, bang, kill; ver' bad," and she clapped her gauntleted hands together sharply.

"But not me; I vas only girl; no gun, no knife--see.

I just like know more 'bout mine--Americano's mine; you show me how it vork.
_Sabe_ ?" Stutter appeared puzzled, doubtful.
"Mexicana ?" he questioned, kicking a piece of rock with his heavy boot.
"Si, senor, but I speak de English ver' good.