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1U
THE MOTION PICTURE STOHY MAGAZINE.
Without a glance at the strangers he settled down on the steps. A few preliminary chords and then the bewitching strains of "The Palms" quivered on the warm air.
With half closed eyes that dreamily watched the smoke curl up from his cigarette, his tarnished sombrero pushed far back on his head, Tony, soiled and ragged as he was, would have caught an artist's eye. There was a graceful droop to the crimson handkerchief at his throat, a suggestion of rakishness about his once white shirt and wide cut trousers, while the sash that encircled his slender waist was worn with all the grace of a caballero.
"Bueno !" softly cried Helen, as the last strains died away; and, taking a quarter from her purse, she offered it to the Mexican. For the first time he seemed to be aware of her presence. From the outstretched white hand his melancholy dark eyes traveled to her face — a face dainty and piquant enough to hold the attention of any man.
Doffing his sombrero, Tony arose; and to the surprise of those about, slowly shook his head.
"Mucho gracias, Signorita," he said politely, "but Tony rather not take. He very great please if she signorita like the moosic."
Helen looked pleased, but she said nothing.
• "By jingo, Helen!" said Captain Jack, as they walked on; "a big compliment to charm a Mex into refusing money. I'll bet Tony will kick himself for his gallantry, next time he wants some of his everlasting cigarettos and hasn't a peseta to get the makings with."
And while Helen and her father sought their carriage to drive to the Cathedral, Tony was passing thru a crisis in his lazy, self-indulgent life.
"Madre de Dios," he had exclaimed, more to himself than to the interested on-lookers, and he stood without moving until Helen's white figure vanished around the corner.
Tomaso, the friend of many an idle day, had started to jeer at Tony's evident admiration for the "Gringo." As others joined in the banter, Tony had
TONY FOLLOWED, BECAUSE HE WANTED TO SEE "LA TULITA" AGAIN.
turned upon them with such a choice collection of Mexican expletives that they had fallen back in amazement, while Tony, his guitar over his shoulder, had flung himself out of the reach of their tormenting tongues.
He wanted to see the pretty girl again. "La Tulita," he called her softly to himself, "with eyes like the stars, and hair so soft and brown and warm. And the pink in her cheek like the dawn in midsummer in cloudless Monterey."
A little questioning, and Tony learned that Captain Jack and his daughter had driven to the church of the Alamo; so Tony, with the vague hope of once more seeing his enchantress, wandered down to the Alamo. The tall ranchman and the pretty girl had been there and gone. Past the pleasant gardens of the Plaza de Las Yslas, to the Cathedral of San Fernando, strolled Tony.
As he stopped for a moment in the deserted street, he beheld with wonder the lady of his thoughts flying down the steps of the Cathedral, in evident distress. Glancing anxiously up and down the street and seeing no one, she was about to return when Tony hesitating