Evening star., 1935-02-26
-! :. eAplDflRE ROMANCE ~ EVAN EVAN:

somewhere I have known him."
said the girl.
Miguel Santos came SO close that
he could smell the reek Of the sweat
ing horse.
"Who are you?" he asked.
They went into the little patio of
the inn. On one side OF the court
was the barn and stables to accom-
modate the horses and mules Of trav-
elers. The larger wing was the hotel
saloon.
They crossed the inclosure with
nothing but starlight to show the way,
so Rosita took the hand Of Montana
and led him. In that manner he was
able to pass a broken-down cart, a
pile of nameless junk, the curbstones
and wooden top Of well.
Anything might happen here. Out
of the dark litter men might start:
starlight would hardly show the
knives with which all Mexicans knew
how to work. Once he snatched his
hand from the soft fingers Of the girl
when something moved on the ground,
1t was only grunting pig that got
out of the way with q voice half deep
and half whining. And the girl
laughed while Montana slipped back
inside his clothes the gun he had
drawn.
He left his mare at the foot Of an
| open stairs that angled up the wall.
Sally rubbed her muzzle against his
shoulder. He could see the dim glass
of her eyes. She blew out long
breath on him, and stamped, as
though to make clear that she did
not wish to be left alone in this
strange place. But the girl was al
ready a few steps up the stairs, and
Montana followed.
At the top landing she pushed
open door. He followed her right
into thick darkness. He could hear
her breathing, close to him. If this
were trap, the shutting Of the door
would wall him away forever from
| the world that had known him. He
past and saw the faces Of men, saw
age or laughing, and the broad, COM
| Portable facade Of the Lavery home.
and Ruth Lavery last of all. But even
out of the darkness Of this moment
he had no regret.
Then a match was scratched. The
blue squirt of the flame showed him
only the face and the slender hands
of the girl, at first. They were the
hands of an aristocrat: the touch Of
them had been so soft that it was
plain she had worked most Of her
life with her smile and her eyes,
,.,;N lxA Gnn
The flame burned yellow. He saw
a room with two windows. lace cur
tains across them tied back with yel-
low ribbons. There was an old four
poster bed. The floor sagged good
bit under the century-old weight of
it. A little porcelain stove glittered
yellow and white in q corner.
The girl was lifting the chimney Of
! a lamp on the table. The flame ran
across the wick A white spot Of light
sprang out on the ceiling as she
pressed the chimney down. The whole
room was warmly involved in radi-
ance that let him see all Of the girl
for the first time.
She was blowing out the match,
knocking a thin shower of sparks of
| the charred wood with her breath.
Her eyes were down; she was being
looked at.
Well, she was worth seeing. She
had no place in room like this.
She looked no more at home here
than a great opera singer doing
ne-night stand in the sticks
Sit down. senor," said the girl.
my father will come at once. There
you hear him on the Stair?"
Montana heard the bump and pause
of sound as the wooden leg labored
up the way. The girl put her head