"They will let us rest here, I am sure."
Husband and wife agreed in one voice. In fact, they were overjoyed
at an opportunity of serving her; and little Juan, his suspicions
partially allayed, issued from hiding and waddled forward to take
part in the welcome.
Shamefacedly the elder Garcia explained his inhospitable reception
of the travelers. "We hear the gringos are coming to kill us and
take our farms. Everybody is badly frightened. We are driving our
herds away and hiding what we can. Yesterday at the big Obispo
ranch our people shot two Americans and burned some of their
houses. They intend to kill all the Americans they find, so you'd
better be careful. Just now a fellow rode up shouting that you
were coming, but of course I didn't know--"
"Yes, of course. We're trying to reach the border," Father
O'Malley told him. "Will you hide us here until we can go on?"
Juan courtesied respectfully to the priest. "My house is yours,
Father."
"Can you take care of our horses, too, and--give us a place to
sleep?" Dave asked. His eyes were heavy; he had been almost
constantly in the saddle since leaving Jonesville, and now could
barely keep himself awake.
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