whispered conversation, but the names of Nan and Bob figured frequently. The latter's civility they mistook, as usual, for weakness, and Nan— Bah! she was a woman! They had no definite plans, but they prepared for San Juan's day with more zest than usual.
Tubs of soap-root for a general hair-washing were put to soak in the front yards. The afternoon of the 23rd brought wagonloads of guests from the outlying districts for every family. Crates of chickens, goats, and many kegs of home-made wine arrived.
Nan's dooryard was filled with the shrieking grandchildren of the Montejos, who stared and snickered as they passed, without a reprimand from their elders. Everywhere she felt the unfriendly atmosphere, and Mrs. Gallagher was as alert as a sheepdog with coyotes in the vicinity.
Bob saw her uneasiness and vaguely shared it as he sat with Nan for a time that evening listening to the guitars and wheezing accordions in the plaza, and to the sounds from the Montejo end of the dobe of drinking and much laughter, which was good-natured enough as yet.
