"
"Listen, Pablo: There is no time to cook Don Mike a Spanish dinner. He
must eat gringo grub to-night. Tell me, Pablo: Which room did Don Mike
sleep in when he was home?"
"The room in front the house--the beeg room with the beeg black bed.
Carolina!" He threw the half-plucked chicken at the old cook, wiped
his hands on his overalls, and started for the hacienda. "I go for
make the bed for Don Mike," he explained, and started running.
Kay followed breathlessly, but he reached the patio before her,
scuttled along the porch with surprising speed, and darted into the
room. Immediately the girl heard his voice raised angrily.
"Hullo! What you been do in my boss's room? _Madre de Dios_! You
theenk I let one Chinaman--no, one Jap--sleep in the bed of Don
Victoriano Noriaga. No! _Vamos_!"
There was a slight scuffle, and the potato baron came hurtling through
the door, propelled on the boot of the aged but exceedingly vigorous
Pablo. Evidently the Jap had been taken by surprise. He rolled off
the porch into a flower-bed, recovered himself, and flew at Pablo with
the ferocity of a bulldog. To the credit of his race, be it said that
it does not subscribe to the philosophy of turning the other cheek.
But Pablo was a peon. From somewhere on his person, he produced a dirk
and slashed vigorously. Okada evaded the blow, and gave ground.
"_Quidado_!" Pablo roared, and charged; whereupon the potato baron,
evidently impressed with the wisdom of the ancient adage that
discretion is the better part of valor, fled before him.
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