Suzanna by Harry Sinclair Drago Read Free Book Online Page B

be wandering off in this manner. And how, by the way, do you make of this a holiday?”
    â€œAre you cross with me, my Ramon?” Suzanna asked naïvely.
    â€œHave I ever been, camarada? ”
    Suzanna pinched his cheek playfully and ended by giving it an affectionate pat. “My father will scold when he hears that I have been away since noon.” She stopped speaking until her eyes held the boy’s. “He does not scold—much—when you tell him that your father is not displeased.”
    â€œ Si , I understand,” Ramon nodded. “I shall intercede for you, once more! ”
    He reached for her playfully, and Suzanna in trying to dodge away from his arms dropped the piece of silk which had been hidden in her blouse. Ramon’s hand shot out and captured it before it reached the ground. The boy instantly recognized the mogador. “How do you come by this?” he demanded sharply.
    â€œArt jealous?” Suzanna asked saucily. “And surprised, my Ramon? Am I so plain that you marvel to find others making presents to me?”
    The boy had gripped her wrists savagely. The pressure of his fingers, as well as the grim set of his jaw, sobered the girl. Open-mouthed she stared at him.
    â€œPresent?” Ramon whipped out angrily. “I selected that piece of silk for you myself,—this very day aboard a smuggling ship from Boston, now anchored in Monterey Bay!”
    â€œ You selected it?” Suzanna gasped, unable to understand the boy’s words. “You say that you selected it for me,” she exclaimed, “and yet I have it here,—the gift of one who is a stranger to you. If you selected it how came it out of your possession?”
    â€œIt was taken from me not an hour since,” cried Ramon, his anger unabated. “We were attacked by the bandit, Benito Pérez, as we came to El Paso del Viento .”
    â€œBenito Pérez!” Suzanna let the man’s name tremble upon her tongue.
    â€œHoly Mother of God!” she muttered chokingly as she crossed herself. “I’ve been kissed by the most famous robber in California!”

CHAPTER VII
CHIQUITA DE SOLA
    A LTHOUGH Don Fernando had not communicated his misgivings to his friend, Diego de Sola, that gentleman was most miserable on his own account; life in Mexico City having proved anything but what he had anticipated. His interests were largely centered in his hacienda in California, and however blue the day, he drew solace from the fact that he would soon be returning to that land of sunshine, where, God be praised, his daughter would soon be safely wed.
    Disquieting news at this time would have been too much, for Don Diego’s cup of misery was already overflowing, his daughter’s education proving a greater task than his gray hairs could manage. He paced his tastefully appointed study on this particular night, agitation and worry plainly written upon his handsome face.
    He paused as someone knocked for admission. In reply to his command to enter, the door opened to admit a middle-aged woman. Quietly closing the door behind her, she hesitated, in evident embarrassment, before speaking.
    Don Diego sensed her confusion. “No need to ask,” he exclaimed. “You bring bad news.”
    The woman bowed her head unhappily. “I regret that it is so,” she answered. “Señora Carrera positively refuses to permit Chiquita to return to her studies.”
    Señor de Sola flung himself into a chair at this news, holding his tongue by a supreme effort. At sight of his anger, the woman hastened to add:
    â€œI have pleaded—threatened almost—but she will not relent. She says the girl has too often violated the rules of the school to deserve another chance. She even refers to her as a girl without—the—er—sense of right or wrong. “I——”
    â€œPrecisely what is my daughter accused of doing?” Don Diego demanded with