"Don't know."
"I do then," returned the notary, quietly: "and it is to tell you that that I am here. I have all the necessary information; you must follow him."
"Why?"
"To make sure of him," coldly replied the Spaniard.
"How?"
Velasquez spoke not.
But his meaning was just as clear as if he had put it into words.
A vicious dig with his stiletto at the air.
Nothing more.
And so they began to understand each other.