“I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. Or at least he did the day before yesterday. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot. He was aroused from his slumber, about six o'clock, by the return of Abraham Mendez, who not choosing to confess that Jack had eluded his vigilance, contended himself with stating that he had kept watch till daybreak, when he had carefully searched the field, and, finding no trace of him, had thought it better to return. He continued to do this for the rest of the evening intermittently, in and out, among other topics. I told him the truth. She's too pretty and unusual.
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