" O'Reilly's appeal was earnest.
The colonel readily yielded. "Go, by all means. Report to General
Gomez, and he no doubt will let you stay until the boy can talk.
He may have news from Matanzas by that time."
O'Reilly pressed his colonel's hand gratefully. "You're mighty
good," said he. "There's one thing more. Will you look out for
Branch while I'm gone, and--hold him down?"
Lopez laughed lightly. "Oh, he'll soon get over his recklessness.
This life agrees with him. Why, he's a different man already! When
he gets well and has something to live for he will want to live.
You'll see."
XXI
TREASURE
It was a balmy, languid morning about two weeks after O'Reilly's
return to the City among the Leaves. The Cubitas Mountains were
green and sparkling from a recent shower; wood fires smoldered in
front of the bark huts, sending up their wavering streamers of
blue; a pack-train from the lower country was unloading fresh
vegetables in the main street, and a group of ragged men were
disputing over them. Some children were playing baseball near by.
In a hammock swung between two trees Esteban Varona lay, listening
to the admonitions of his nurse.
Johnnie O'Reilly had just bade them both a hearty good morning and
now Norine was saying: "One hour, no more. You had a temperature
again last night, and it came from talking too much.
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