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Jackson, Helen Hunt, 1830-1885

"Ramona"

The men behind caught him and
saved him. Eyeing the group with scorn, Mrs. Hartsel, who had not
a cowardly nerve in her body, said: "Gentlemen, if you will take
your seats at the table, I will bring in your supper immediately. It is
all ready."
One or two of the soberer ones, shamed by her tone, led the rest
back into the dining-room, where, seating themselves, they began
to pound the table and swing the chairs, swearing, and singing
ribald songs.
"Get off as quick as you can, Alessandro," whispered Mrs. Hartsel,
as she passed by him, standing like a statue, his eyes, full of hatred
and contempt, fixed on the tipsy group. "You'd better go. There's
no knowing what they'll do next."
"Are you not afraid?" he said in a low tone.
"No!" she said. "I'm used to it. I can always manage Jim. And
Ramon's round somewhere,-- he and the bull-pups; if worse comes
to worse, I can call the dogs. These San Francisco fellows are
always the worst to get drunk. But you'd better get out of the way!"
"And these are the men that have stolen our lands, and killed my
father, and Jose, and Carmena's baby!" thought Alessandro, as he
ran swiftly back towards the graveyard.


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