señor, my revenge shall smack of the poetic. I shall thrust at their pocketbooks, where it will hurt most!"
Pancho was a peach of a talker—a hypnotist with language, what I mean! In no time at all he had me and the Kid all built up and ready to run them six yeggs ragged. When at last he pleaded with us to help him get even, swearin' he'd ask us to do nothin' illegal or dishonorable, we both unhesitatin'ly shook his hand and promised to be in his corner whenever he started. Down in that country the motto is "Mañana!" i. e., never do to-day what you can put off till to-morrow, so when we asked Pancho his plans he simply smiled and says we'll hear the whole works in the mornin'.
Well, me and Kid Roberts went back to the dance after hearin' Pancho's tale, and, of course, we now regarded the six strangers as villains of the first water. As we entered the patio, the American amongst Pancho's enemies stopped us. We give him a icy cold look. He'd saw us leave the place with Pancho and I suppose he figured Pancho had tipped us off about him and his gang.
"Pardon me, gentlemen," says the stranger, "but I want to tell you about our relation to Pancho Nogales. He—"
"That will do!" interrupts Kid Roberts sternly. "Pancho Nogales is your host, I believe, and, as a guest, I do not care to listen to any criticism of him while enjoying his hospitality!"
"Besides," I sneered, "we know all about it!"
