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118 Can's leg was well. She would study the young man more. In the mean time, she would cause Felipe to think of the idea, and propose it.

So one day she said to Felipe: “What a voice that Alessandro has, Felipe. We shall miss his music sorely when he goes, shall we not?”

“He's not going!” exclaimed Felipe, startled.

“Oh, no, no; not at present. He agreed to stay till Juan Can was about again; but that will be not more than six weeks now, or eight, I suppose. You forget how time has flown while you have been lying here ill, my son.”

“True, true!” said Felipe. “Is it really a month already?” and he sighed.

“Juan Can tells me that the lad has a marvellous knowledge for one of his years,” continued the Señora. “He says he is as skilled with cattle as with sheep; knows more than any shepherd we have on the place. He seems wonderfully quiet and well-mannered. I never saw an Indian who had such behavior.”

“Old Pablo is just like him,” said Felipe. “It was natural enough, living so long with Father Peyri. And I've seen other Indians, too, with a good deal the same manner as Alessandro. It's born in them.” “I can't bear the idea of Alessandro's going away. But by that time you will be well and strong,” said the Señora; “you would not miss him then, would you?”

“Yes, I would, too!” said Felipe, pettishly. He was still weak enough to be childish. “I like him about me. He's worth a dozen times as much as any man we've got. But I don't suppose money could hire him to stay on any ranch.”

“Were you thinking of hiring him permanently?” asked the Señora, in a surprised tone. “I don't doubt you could do so if you wished. They are all