had sat still as long as she possibly could in school and then despite the teacher’s stern eye her nervous energy had got the better of her. “After all he’s only a boy,” she told herself. “I’ll bet he isn’t any older than my freshmen cousins. What’s the harm?” Outside the sun was hot but the wind was fresh and cool. “Through that cut in the mountains and around a curve is Conejo,” said Juan Pachuca, as Polly, glad to 37 be out of the hot car, drew long breaths of the splendid air. “You have friends there?” 37 “In Conejo? Oh no, my brother lives in Athens. That’s where I am going. He is superintendent of a coal mine there.” “Athens? That is some distance from Conejo. Of course your brother will meet you?” “Of course,” replied Polly, with the faith of the American girl in the male of the species. “They have a little coal train that runs to Conejo and he’ll probably come in on that.” “I think you must be Señorita Street?” mused the young man. “Oh,” Polly dimpled pleasantly. “You know Bob then?” Juan Pachuca’s dark eyes smiled. “Not exactly—but I have met him. Me, I have a place south of Conejo—quite a long way—I am what you might call a long-distance neighbor. My name is Pachuca—Juan Pachuca.” “I see. Are you in the mining business, too?” “Not now. Oh, I have mining property, but further south. My people live in Mexico City. In Sonora I have a small ranch.” “You speak English rather wonderfully, you know, señor,” said the girl. “But more like an Englishman than an American.” “It is very likely. My sister—she is much older than I—married an Englishman, and her children had English governesses. When I was young I had my lessons with them.” 38 38 So from one thing to another the conversation ran, very much as it does with two young people of any nationalities, granted a common language. Polly talked a good deal about Bob. Juan Pachuca seemed interested in all the details that she could give him about the mine. His manner was very respectful. If he had not met many American girls he had
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