as swarthy, a magnificent black beard covered his chin and
cheeks, and he plainly was a Spaniard. But he spoke good English.

"Welcome, senors," he greeted, with a wave of his hand. "I understand
you are from my good friend El Capitan Crosby. If so, my house and all
that is mine are at your disposal--a su disposicion, senors."

That was a pleasant speech, indeed. Still, Mr. Adams, like Charley,
felt a little doubtful.

"Thank you, sir," he responded. "Captain Crosby was kind enough to
tell us that we would find accommodations at Las Cruces, that is true.
We left him down at Pena Blanca. But we do not wish to intrude upon
you. Our main thought is to get to Panama; and if you know of any
mules or horses, and a guide----"

The stout man courteously interrupted.

"Enough said, with your permission, senor. Horses and guide shall be
found, of course; and meantime you will honor me by spending the night.
You would gain nothing by attempting the trip before morning. The
trail is bad enough, by day. This is the Hacienda las Flores, and I am
Don Antonio de Soto. Let your men drop your baggage, which will be
properly attended to, and be pleased to enter."

Mr. Adams introduced himself and party; and with Don Antonio refusing
to listen to any apologies, into the house they went. It was
delightfully cool there, where the rooms were high and large and simply
furnished with cane chairs and couches. Don Antonio's wife, the Senora
Isabella (and a beauty), came forward also to welcome them. In white
dress, with a red rose stuck into her black hair, she took Charley's
fancy at once. Then there was a boy, Pascal, about Charley's age--a
handsome young fellow, slim and dark, with wonderful black-brown eyes
and dazzling white teeth. Servants glided hither-thither, to bring
glasses of lemonade and pine-apple juice, and to distribute the
bed-rooms; and when Charley found himself confronted by a real bed,
with a bath at his disposal, he thought that they all were in right
good hands. He wished that his mother was here, too. The Senora made
him rather homesick. How his mother would enjoy this place!

"We noticed the tents of some of the new railroad engineers, at the
edge of town, sir," remarked Mr. Adams, at supper, where Charley,
arrayed in his last clean suit of white, found the creamy beaten cocoa,
served on a spotless table, was the most delicious thing that he had
ever tasted. "I wonder how the work is going on."