The Brazilian slowly shook his head. Then suddenly he nodded as if an illuminating thought had crossed his mind.
"I see. José is very well paid."
"One dollar a day," was McKay's dry retort.
At that moment 'Tonio re-entered with a larger tray than before, bearing more coffee, long cigars, and squat glasses in which glowed a golden liquid. Tim sat up with a grunt and helped himself with both hands. When the coronel's turn came he disregarded the drinks, but lit the cigar as if he needed it.
"De noite todos os gatos sao pardos," he said. "At night all cats are gray. I am much in the dark, gentlemen. If you would be so good as to enlighten me—"
He paused, looking sidewise again at José as if the puntero had suddenly grown wings or horns.
"All right," nodded Knowlton, biting and lighting his cigar. "We are somewhat in the dark ourselves as to why José has been so zealous, for he has been very taciturn since the recent fight at our camp. Perhaps José also is a bit hazy about our expedition—he looked rather surprised just now. So here is the situation."
Briefly then he outlined the object of the search, stating that the identity of the mysterious Raposa was a matter of some concern to certain persons in the United States and that the expedition had been formed with the view of settling the question. From the time of the landing at Remate de Males, however, he narrated events more fully, giving complete details of Schwandorf's activities, Francisco's offense, and the final attack by the crew. While he talked the coronel's frown deepened. Also, José gradually assumed the expression of a thundercloud. And when the tale was done the puntero exploded.
"Sangre de Cristo!" he yelled. "El Aleman—the German—he told you we would go among the cannibals? We? Peruvians? Madre de Dios! If ever I get within knife length of him! Nunes, you see, do you not?"
The coronel nodded grimly.