he was accosted by two individuals—worthy habitues of such a den. The first was a tall, awkward, sham bling fellow, with a ferocious air, who held out to the licentiate a hand large as a shoulder of mutton, and said, in Spanish, with strong English accent, "How is Señor Don Tadeo to-day?"
"Better than those to whom you wish well, Master John Pearce," replied he, darting upon his interlocutor a look of cold disdain, which pierced him like a sword. "You know well that your reputation here is ruined as much as it was in Texas. Above all, since—"
"Tut!" said the American, evidently not at all desirous that the licentiate should finish his sentence. "With your permission, I have come to consult you."
"Immediately," replied the man of law. "I must, however, give the preference to this gentleman, whom I met before you."
"Do me a favor; listen to me first, Señor Licentiate," cried another personage, with squinting eyes and gray hair, dressed in the national costume of Mexico. "I wish also to ask your advice."
"Ah! is it you, Navaja," replied Tadeo, eyeing the Mexican, who seemed to tremble under his stern glance. "Are you going to trouble me any more about that ugly affair?"
"Tut!" cried the Mexican in his turn. "Since it pleases you, I will take the third place."
It was quite sufficient for Don Tadeo to remind them of these two episodes, which doubtless did not redound to their credit, to shake himself free of their importunities. I admired the power that gave my companion an experience, evidently acquired at great
