"
"Yes, he is alive. We found him rotting in a prison and we rescued
him," Jacket corroborated. He stared curiously at the recumbent
figure on the bench, then at O'Reilly. He puckered his lips and
gave vent to a low whistle of amazement. "So. This is your pretty
one, eh? I--She--Well, I don't think much of her. But then, you
are not so handsome yourself, are you?"
Evangelina seemed to be stupid, a trifle touched, perhaps, from
suffering, for she laid a skinny claw upon O'Reilly's shoulder and
warned him earnestly: "Look out for Cobo. You have heard about
him, eh? Well, he is the cause of all our misery. He hunted us
from place to place, and it was for him that I put that hump on
her back. Understand me, she is straight--straight and pretty
enough for any American. Her skin is like milk, too, and her hair-
-she used to put flowers in it for you, and then we would play
games. But you never came. You will make allowances for her looks,
will you not?"
"Poor Rosa! You two poor creatures!" O'Reilly choked; he hid his
face upon his sweetheart's breast.
Rosa responded; her fingers caressed him and she sighed
contentedly.
O'Reilly's ascent of the hill had been slow, but his descent was
infinitely slower, for Rosa was so feeble that she could help
herself but little and he lacked the strength to carry her far at
a time.
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