hings through the years
of my life, and the middle course is ever the safest. Give to the
church, observe her laws as a true and obedient son, in so far as
possible, and only so far. Let her get her foot on your neck and she
will demand such sacrifices!" He lifted his hands and rolled his eyes
upward, "but the Devil is more reasonable; treat him civilly, be a good
comrade to him and he will let you alone. But Saint Harry does not
understand that. Saint Harry on his ice peak, and the Devil straddling
around trying to find a foothold so that he can climb up to Harry and
seize him with those itching fingers. Ho, ho!" Jose's laughter rang loud
and shrill.

Pearl, hearing it, turned from the window with a disturbed frown and
began to walk up and down the far end of the room, and Mrs. Nitschkan
frowned ominously. "That's enough of your talk, Jose," she said
peremptorily. "It sounds like blasphemin' to me, talkin' about the Devil
that light way. Remember one of the reasons I come here. Gallito, you'd
better lay out the cards and let's get down to our game. What's the
limit?"

"Does Mrs. Thomas play as high as you?" asked Gallito.

"I don't care much for a tame game," said Mrs. Thomas modestly, with
lowered lids. "They're too many long, sad winters in the mountains when
gentl--, I mean friends, can't cross the trails to see you, an' you got
to fill up your heart with cards and religion and things like that."

Jose had paused to watch, with a keen appreciation, the grace of Pearl's
movements. "Caramba!" he muttered. "How sprang that flower of Spain from
such a gnarled old tree as you, Gallito? Dios! But she is salado!"

Gallito frowned a little, which did not in the least disconcert Jose,
and, rising, he moved a small table forward, opened it and then going to
a cupboard in the wall drew from it a short, squat bottle, four glasses
and a pack of cards. "Your room is just beyond this," he said, turning
to Pearl. "Jose says that you will find everything ready for you. You
must be tired. You had better go to bed."

Pearl twitched her shoulders impatiently. "I am not sleepy," she said
sullenly. She threw herself in the chair that Gallito had vacated and
lay there watching the fire with somber, wild eyes.

Jose threw another log on the fire and then the two men and two women
sat down to their cards. A clock ticked steadily, monotonously, on the
mantel-piece, but whether an hour or ten minutes passed while she sat
there watchin