"My own horse! She
would not dare to call it stealing a horse, to take my own Baba!"
But even as she spoke, her heart misgave her. The Senora would
dare anything; would misrepresent anything; only too well
Ramona knew what the very mention of the phrase
"horse-stealing" meant all through the country. She looked
piteously at Alessandro. He read her thoughts.
"Yes, that is it, Majella," he said. "If she sent men after Baba, there
is no knowing what they might do. It would not do any good for
you to say he was yours. They would not believe you; and they
might take me too, if the Senora had told them to, and put me into
Ventura jail."
"She's just wicked enough to do it!" cried Ramona. "Let us not stir
out of this spot, Alessandro,-- not for a week! Couldn't we stay a
week? By that time she would have given over looking for us."
"I am afraid not a week. There is not feed for the horses; and I do
not know what we could eat. I have my gun, but there is not much,
now, to kill."
"But I have brought meat and bread, Alessandro," said Ramona,
earnestly, "and we could eat very little each day, and make it last!"
She was like a child, in her simplicity and eagerness.
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