The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1898-04-28
THE ORTIZ JEWELS.

was only last night at the cascaron,
ball, that her perfidy was discovered.
A dog of barber, and an American!
That he was barber out at the grand
new Hotel del Monte mattered not t.
Porf1rio. Enough that he was a bar.
ber-and an American. Porfirio re.
membered too well the effect Of his
remonstrances with 'Chona. 1t was In
a moment when she was not dancins
like mad-for 'Chona was belle
More eggshells than she could count
had been broken upon her head and
her ink black braids were fairly crust.
ed with the red and gold and green
tinsel But Porfirio had spoken to hel
kindly. Olga, she must not dance
again with that pig and posterity OF
pigs. And 'Chona had merely smiled
and shrugged, lifting to her lap one OF
her heavy braids from where it trailed
a foot on the floor. Even as he talked
the band struck up swinging Mexi.
can air, and the barber came up to
claim 'Chona for the dance. Porfirio
threw bis hat on the floor. II keel
him now!" he burst forth in English
for the BARRIERS benefit. Eyes, you
kill him now, before you forget
Knocked 'Chona, who knew her Porflrio
well-and off they whirled. Doubtless
she had danced with this beast the
rest of the evening. At any rate Por
firio had come away; and now, to-day
he saw on the edge of the wharf look.
ing down at the restful green depths
and then over yonder to that trim
figure picking its dainty way along the
broken and quilted street. 'Chona had
round, olive cheeks, great velvet eyes,
a soft red mouth and braids of Jet hair
that hung below her knees. There
were those who said it was coarse.
Dios milo! Can one have everything?
She was not going back to the house
Of Senorita Ortiz till evening. Her
way led now to her own home, little
old adobe near the beach. There with
the mother and the old grandmother
she would sit upon the adobe floor al,
day, chattering in soft Spanish of what
had been and what was to be, and she
did not even once look toward the
wharf.
A February evening in Monterey is
usually chilly, though too soon for the
fogs; but tonight was soft to the
cheek as bats wing. 'Chona, fiittine
across the plaza to her employers
house, was startled by a touch upor
her shoulder. 1t was Mr.. Badgers, the
barber, on noiseless feet-but not less
noiseless than Portirio's, a little way
behind.
The barber's little black mustache
was waXed, his hair was parted almost
between his brows; and about him
hung that wonderful perfume which is
native to barber shops. On his little
white hands were gloves-and 'Chons
sighed rapturously. Who in Monte.
'ey wore gloves? 1t was true thai
Vicente Machado had a white cotton
pair; but they were for funerals. These
we're beautiful-such as the grand q
aides wore who drove over from Del
Monte.
In the plaza surrounded by heavy
yringas and laurestma, was a we'll
worn bench. There the two found a
eat; and not far away Poriro took
helter behind towering shrub.
'Chona was telling "Meester Bachois'
# the glories of the Senorita's Jewels v
The Senorita Ortiz-rich? Well. do fl
relieve it! A chest so big, full witt u
diamonds and pearls and the lofely RED il
nd green stones.' f
Mr.. Badgers could not be impolite 4 n
e tried. A little question, at least t. a
how interest. isn't she afraid sh, y
viii be robbed?" g
But 'Chona scorned the idea, "Non, :,
f us would" she said, conclusively Il
And as for the Americans, they ca. q
OF know where she keep thees chest 81
ees of a smart place she hat it hiJ.' hi
Mr.. Badgers amiably ignored Tn, al
nance to feel hurt; but he doubted !"
liss 'Chona knew this smart place
ny better than the Americans did. | p,'
as some time before she could con ", ",
ice him that the trusted maid Of
norita Ortiz knew as much about the
use as the lady herself. l
3ut time waits not even to hear CT
ests of treasure, and 'Chona must
going. Adios! As they came in IL
hit of the long, gray adobe, 'Chona X
7e little cry. she has gone her
to bed" For not a twinkle of III
ht could be seen. Gu
N, yes, she could get in-but she Wv
st be soft. Oh, no, the great lady
not live alone. There was Pas
al, the gardener-but he is so old sstr
deaf he can not even hear mass.
Jhona ran her hand along the high,
lteWashed adobe wall, which sur ~
nded the garden. The heavy gate
barred, but there was 4 little hol-
in the adobe. She ran out into
street and picked up board 1t
lcd securely against the wall; and II ,
h one hand steadied by the barber to
ona sprang up, and thence went 10 a.,
top of the wall, lightly as a grass Ii,
per. Then she knelt on the fat Ill
bes, the odor of violets about her,