"Oh!" cried Angela, who thought she had done so well.
"And she love you?" Lopez went on.
"I don't either!" Angela protested, speaking before "Red" had a chance.
"Now, Angela!" said "Red," his face the color of his flaming hair.
His dream seemed so close. Was it possible that the only girl he ever had
adored was going to see it wrecked?
Angela weakened a bit at his tone. "I like him," she told the bandit. "But
I don't--love him."
"Ah! but you do!" Lopez insisted.
"I do?" said Angela, wide-eyed.
"I have so decide!" the bandit stated.
"What?" cried Angela, not knowing what he could be driving at.
"Also you make love to my frand, Senor Jones."
"Oh!" cried the frightened girl now.
"And you have annoyed him in other ways."
"I have?" she wailed, terrified to the breaking point.
"Red" intervened. "Listen, Angela--" he began.
She stamped her little foot, and was peppery at once. "I won't!"
"You don't love him," "Red" affirmed, for her.
"Oh!" Angela burst out, all confusion.
"No more than you loved any of the rest of 'em," "Red" went on.
"Keep still!" the girl cried. "Keep still! I think you're dreadful!"
"It's because they're better looking than me," her slave went right on.
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