Her most notable beauty was the liquid blackness of her eyes.
"Si, I tell you all dat ver' quick, senor," she explained frankly, nipping the rock-pile with her riding whip, and bending over to peer, with undisguised curiosity, into the yawning shaft-hole.

"I ride out from San Juan for vat you call constitutional--mercy, such a vord, senor!--an' I stray up dis trail.

See?
It vas most steep, my, so steep, like I slide off; but de mustang he climb de hill, all right, an' den I see you, senor, an' know dere vas a mine here.

Not de big mine--bah! I care not for dat kind--but just one leetle mine, vere I no be 'fraid to go down.

Den I look at you, so big, vid de beautiful red hair, an' de kin' face, an' I sink he vood let me see how dey do such tings--he vas nice fellow, if he vas all mud on de clothes.