"Not exactly—say, rather—rivals," and Tom looked at Ruth and laughed. The blush had somewhat subsided.
"Ah, I comprehend. I am Rafello Mendez, at your service, senor."
"My name is Parsons," went on Tom. "Sorry I haven't a card," and he thought of the one he had picked up, which he had quickly thrust Into his pocket at the sound of approaching footsteps.
"I am what you call the take-care man around here," went on Mendez. "I am the take-care man of the cottages—not all—some."
"The 'take-care' man," murmured Tom. "It sounds like the bugaboo-man."
"Oh, he means the care-taker," exclaimed Ruth. "I understand. You look after the property while the cottagers are away; Isn't that it?" and she smiled at the man, who bowed low and answered:
"The senorlta has said it. I am the take-care man."
"But I thought old Jake Blasdell had that job," said Tom. "I know he used to be here. But I never knew he had this shack, though I haven't been much on this part of the Island."
"Senor Blasdell did was the take-care man," explained Mendez. "But he was took sick, and had to leave, and a friend got me the place. Me, I used to be of the sheep take-care in my country-
