knowledge, one o' them chaps within a
mile of the rancho. (Laughs.)

Manuela. Diego!

Sandy (aside). Oh, go on! That's the style o' them Greasers. They'll
stand rooted in their tracks, and yell for a chap without knowin'
whether he's in sight or sound.

Manuela (approaching SANDY impatiently). Diego!

Sandy (starting, aside). The devil! Why, that's ME she's after.
(Laughs.) I clean disremembered that when I kem yer I tole those chaps
my name was James,--James Smith (laughs), and thet they might call me
"Jim." And De-a-go's their lingo for Jim. (Aloud.) Well, my beauty,
De-a-go it is. Now, wot's up?

Manuela. Eh? no sabe!

Sandy. Wot's your little game. (Embraces her.)

Manuela (aside, and recoiling coquettishly). Mother of God! He must be
drunk again. These Americans have no time for love when they are sober.
(Aloud and coquettishly.) Let me go, Diego. Don Jose is coming. He has
sent for you. He takes his supper to-night on the corridor. Listen,
Diego. He must not see you thus. You have been drinking again. I will
keep you from him. I will say you are not well.

Sandy. Couldn't you, my darling, keep him from ME? Couldn't you make him
think HE was sick? Couldn't you say he's exposin' his precious health by
sittin' out thar to-night; thet ther's chills and fever in every breath?
(Aside.) Ef the old Don plants himself in that chair, that gal's chances
for goin' out to-night is gone up.

Manuela. Never. He would suspect at once. Listen, Diego. If Don Jose
does not know that his daughter steals away with you to meet some
caballero, some LOVER,--you understand, Diego,--it is because he does
not know, or would not SEEM to know, what every one else in the rancho
knows. Have a care, foolish Diego! If Don Jose is old and blind, look
you, friend, we are NOT. You understand?

Sandy (aside). What the devil does she expect?--money? No! (Aloud.) Look
yer, Manuela, you ain't goin' to blow on that young gal! (Putting his
arm around her waist.) Allowin' that she hez a lover, thar ain't nothin'
onnateral in thet, bein' a purty sort o' gal. Why, suppose somebody
should see you and me together like this, and should just let on to the
old man.

Manuela. Hush! (Disengaging herself.) Hush! He is coming. Let me go,
Diego. It is Don Jose!

Enter Don Jose, who walks gravely to the table, and seats himself.
MANUELA retires to table.

Sandy (aside). I wonder if he saw us. I hope he did: it would shut that
Manuela's mouth for a mo