syllables:

"_The Baggage Coach Ahead,_ as sung by Helena Mora for the
Echo Phonograph, of New York and Pa-a-aris!"

From the dusk to the right of the two listeners now issued soft
Spanish phrases.

"_Madre de Dios!_ 'The Baggage Car in Front!' T'adora Mora!
God bless 'er!"

During the rendition of this affecting ballad the two cow-men
remained draped uncomfortably over the barbed-wire barrier, lost
in rapturous enjoyment. When the last note had died away, Stover
roused himself reluctantly.

"It's time we was turnin' in." He called softly, "Hey, Mex!"

"_Si, Senor!_"

"Come on, you and Cloudy. _Vamos!_ It's ten o'clock."

He turned his back on the Centipede Ranch that housed the
treasure, and in company with Willie, made his way to the ponies.
Two other figures joined them, one humming in a musical baritone
the strains of the song just ended.

"Cut that out, Mex! They'll hear us," Stover cautioned.

"_Caramba!_ This t'ing is brek my 'eart," said the Mexican,