Aren't you just a little ashamed of yourself now, when you see how
much we have been thinking of you?"
Lopez hung his head. "Yes, my frand, I _am_ ashamed." Then he looked around
at all of them. "I love you very much. I dream of you often, an' I say to
myself. 'Some day I go back there, an' see my old frands which I make so
'appy.' But I bandit no more, an' travel I hate in trains. I reform. I
settle down in Mexico City. I 'ave baby too, an' good wife, good mother.
But I get 'omesick, 'ow you say, for you all, an' so I come down for what
you call 'oliday, an'--'ere I am! You 'ave made me very 'appy to-night. I
love you all even more seence I see zese cheeldrens. _Madre Dio!_ How fine
to 'ave cheeldren!"
"Ain't we ever goin' to finish our supper?" Uncle Henry wanted to know; but
his tone was not querulous; it was plaintively sweet, and it held a note of
invitation for everyone.
Laughing, they all sat down, but not before Pedro had been asked in. The
frightened cook--the same who had been drunk that fatal evening when Pancho
first arrived--scurried here and there, eager to serve the distinguished
guest.
"You all right!" Lopez told him. "Never fear, so long as you bring me good
'ot coffee!"
And, happy as the babies, they all fell to; and it was Pancho himself who
was asked to cut Mrs.
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