"I reckon they want to keep us, Curly. Mr. Megales has sure got
us real safe this time. I'd be plumb discouraged about breaking
jail out of this cage. It's ce'tainly us to stay hitched a
while."
About dark tortillas and frijoles were brought down to them by
the facetious turnkey, who was accompanied as usual by two
guards.
"Why don't my little birdies sing?" he asked, with a wink at the
soldiers. "One of them will not do any singing after daybreak
to-morrow. Ho, ho, my larks! Tune up, tune up!"
"What do you mean about one not singing after daybreak?" asked
the girl, with eyes dilating.
"What! Hasn't he told you? Senor the ranger is to be hanged at
the dawn unless he finds his tongue for Governor Megales. Ho, ho!
Our birdie must speak even if he doesn't sing." And with that as
a parting shot the man clanged the door to after him and locked
it.
"You never told me, Bucky. You have been trying to deceive me,"
she groaned.
He shrugged his shoulders. "What was the use, girlie? I knew it
would worry you, and do no good. Better let you sleep in peace, I
thought."
"While you kept watch alone and waited through the long night.
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