But he had ended by admitting the force of the argument; and the reminiscences of college lecturings aroused by the incident had tickled his sense of humor and quenched his anger.

He looked at the professor with a sparkle of laughter in his eyes.
"I have done very wrong, sir," he said, "and I'm very sorry for it.

If you won't give me any bad marks this time, I'll promise to be good in future." "Ah! very smooth! To begin with, suppose you ask pardon of Senor Don Miguel de Mendoza for the affront you have put upon him." To a soul really fearless, even an apology has no terrors.

Moreover, Freeman's night ride with Don Miguel, though brief in time, had sufficed to give him the measure of the Mexican's character; and he respected it so little that he could no longer take the man seriously, or be sincerely angry with him.

The professor's assurance as to Don Miguel's inoffensiveness had also its weight; and it was therefore with a quite royal gesture of amicable condescension that Freeman turned upon his late antagonist and held out his hand.
"Senor Don Miguel de Mendoza," said he, "I humbly tender you my apologies and crave your pardon.