sked him if he could jump over a horse, and he said he'd
try it. So they went out and got a horse, and Cogan jumped over it. And
then they brought in another and placed the two side by side, and Cogan
jumped over the pair of them, at which they all shouted 'Bueno, bueno,
Americano!' and Ferrero slapped him on the back and told him he must
stay with them and practice bull-fighting.
"Cogan had another question. Was not the mounted capeador Juan Roca a
brother of Luis Roca, the hat dealer? And he was told that he was, and
that Luis Roca was now engaged in an enormous hat business with the
United States, and had grown very wealthy, thanks to the increase of
trade since the American occupation of the Isthmus. And Cogan inquired
further--was there a daughter who would be now about eighteen? 'A
daughter? Blood of a bull--surely.' And beautiful? Beautee-full! the
Senorita Roca beautee-full? Mother of God!' If he wished, he could post
himself on the Pasada that very afternoon--any afternoon--and see her
driving with her jolly good father or her proud mother, or it might be
with Senor Lorenzo de Guavera. 'And,' added Ferrero, 'you will meet Juan
there also--if he ees returned from the ranch.'
"In the cool of the afternoon they went to the Pasada, which is where
everybody in Lima who has a pair of horses and a coachman goes driving
of an afternoon. They pace up one side and down the other. Cogan never
saw so many fine horses and beautiful women in such a short time. And he
saw the hat dealer--the same lively, good-humored Grand Duke man to look
at, dressed in the same style of white ducks and big Panama hat, with
the same great beard down on his chest. Beside him was a stately,
beautiful girl. Cogan stared. He could see the resemblance right away.
'That must be an elder sister,' he thought, 'and that must be her
mother.' The mother was beautiful, too; but also she knew it. There was
also a well-set-up, well-dressed, well-groomed, distinguished looking
man.
"Cogan was staring after the carriage, when he heard a voice in his ear.
Ferrero was speaking to him. 'Ah-h, you know heem, Luis, Juan's brother,
yes? And the senora?--and the Senorita Valera?'
"'Valera? But that is not the little girl--'
"'Leetle girl?'
"'Has she not--the senorita--a younger sister?'
"'Sister? There ees no sister--only herself.'
"And so his little Valera had grown into that stately, self-possessed
young lady. Cogan felt sad.
"'And some say h
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