but they paid absolutely no attention to us. One of the strangers was French, two was German, one a Englishman, one either Spanish or italian, and the last a American. They talked strictly amongst themselves in low voices and mostly in foreign tongues. Maida appeared to have a healthy respect for them all. It was just the opposite with Pancho. Our aged and excentric boy friend took no pains to hide the fact that he liked them the same way he liked sulphuric acid, and every now and then he'd look up over his plate to sneer at them, all of which mystified me and the Kid, but didn't bother Ptomaine. That mock-turtle was busy eatin'!
After dinner come another surprise in the shape of a swell entertainment in the patio, showin' that Pancho had kept his word about sendin' into Tia Juana for performers. Dancin' followed hard on the heels of the show. Kid Roberts was whirlin' about with Maida when Pancho suddenly appeared on the scene, whispered to 'em, and they stopped dancin' at once. The Kid frowned, but excused himself and started away with Pancho, signalin' me to follow him. Maida throwed Ptomaine a mischievously invitin' look, and this big stiff bounded over and finished the Kid's dance with her, missin' the conference which followed. That was just as well, as the only conference where Ptomaine would get any attention would be a conference of maniacs.
Pancho took me and the Kid to a room at the end of the hacienda, locked the doors and windows and otherwise throwed mystery around in a lavish way
