Norine turned a puzzled face to him, meanwhile warding off the farmer's attack. "I can't quite make out," she said. "They all talk at once. Please ask them what I've done." Mechanically she raised the ripe mango to her lips, whereupon the ranchero, with a yell, leaped upon her and violently wrenched it out of her fingers.
Facing O'Reilly, the man panted: "There! You saw her! She wouldn't listen to my wife—"
"Oh, I warned her!" wailed the woman. "But it was too late."
"You must tell her what she has done," said the fellow, in the stiff hat.
"Well, what has she done?" Johnnie managed to inquire, whereupon every one began a separate explanation:
"She will never become your wife. … Look! That's not her first mango.
… Enough to destroy an army. … You can see for yourself. … Wait!
Ask her how many she ate. Ask her, senor, I implore you!"
There was a silence while Johnnie translated the question and repeated the answer:
"She says she doesn't remember, they are so nice and ripe—"
"'So nice and ripe'!" shouted the owner of the farm, tearing his hair.
"'So nice and ripe'!" echoed his wife.