It was early dusk when they reached Las Palmas; it was nearly
midnight when Dave threw his leg across his saddle and started
home.
Alaire's parting words rang sweetly in his ears: "This has been
the pleasantest day I can remember."
The words themselves meant little, but Dave had caught a wistful
undertone in the speaker's voice, and fancied he had seen in her
eyes a queer, half-frightened expression, as of one just awakened.
Jose Sanchez had beheld Dave Law at the Las Palmas table twice
within a few days. He spent this evening laboriously composing a
letter to his friend and patron, General Luis Longorio.
XXI
AN AWAKENING
Time was when Phil Strange boasted that he and his wife had played
every fair-ground and seaside amusement-park from Coney Island to
Galveston. In his battered wardrobe-trunks were parts of old
costumes, scrapbooks of clippings, and a goodly collection of
lithographs, some advertising the supernatural powers of
"Professor Magi, Sovereign of the Unseen World," and others the
accomplishments of "Mlle. Le Garde, Renowned Serpent Enchantress."
In these gaudy portraits of "Magi the Mystic" no one would have
recognized Phil Strange.
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