The servants eyed the two boys curiously as they stepped upon the verandah and the brothers were not reassured by any looks of friendliness, though they were outwardly courteous. A withered looking old woman, who looked to Jim as though she had Indian blood showed the boys to a room, where they could wash up.
"Jove! Doesn't it dazzle your eyes, Jo?" exclaimed Jim, "to see a real room, with a bed and a white spread, with those starched things where the pillows ought to be."
"This room would certainly please Aunt Maria," remarked Jo. "That four poster bed with the canopy over it, is an old timer, I'll warrant you."
"If I slept in this room," said Jim, "I would make a low bow to the bed and then roll up in my blanket and go to sleep on the floor."
"How do I look?" asked Jo, after he had rubbed and scrubbed his face for a long time.
"You have got off the first layer," replied Jim, "and look about the color of a half-breed. Let me try my hand at polishing up."
"It will take you a week," remarked Jo discouragingly.
It cannot be truly said that they looked ornamental even when they were clean, for Jim's face was badly torn, one side of it being scraped raw. He got this memento when he tackled the Captain and fell down into the canyon with him. One eye was blackened and the other cheek bruised. These disadvantages were not to be overcome in a short time.
Jo was somewhat more presentable, but he, too, showed signs of the rough time that they had had with the Captain and his "merry" crew. But in spite of all this, there was something in their bearing, an honest hardihood and manliness that could not be discounted by torn clothes and bruised faces.
"This room looks dirty, now," said Jo, "I'm ashamed to leave it like this."
"We will go outside to brush off our clothes," proposed Jim, "and I'm going to empty this dirty water myself." He started out with it when he met one of the servants in the hall. With many explanations, numerous gestures and much excitement, she took the pail from Jim and disappeared with it.
"They won't let you do anything for yourself here, Jo," reported Jim, returning to the room.
This was correct and the boys noticed afterwards that the servants regarded them with odd expressions of amusement and it was evident to the sensitive Jo that they were being "guyed" by them, to use a modern expression. The boys being American lads, were self-reliant, and were accustomed to do everything for themselves, and, unknowingly they had gone counter to a custom of constant service of the Spaniards. It was to demean oneself, according to their code, to do any menial work.