"Drop that knife!" commanded Greg, seeking to force the weapon from the Mexican's fingers.
In this attempt he had almost succeeded, when of a sudden Murillo squirmed away, rolled over and over and scrambled up.
Carker rose on the brink of the cliff and again faced the man. Murillo came at him with a leap, making a savage slash with the knife. Carker dodged just in time and thrust out his foot. Over that outthrust foot the Mexican tripped. Straight forward he plunged, with a cry and a splash, into the water below.
"Perhaps a cold bath will do him good," observed Carker, breathing a trifle heavily.
Juanita seemed ready to faint.
"Oh, señor, you are the brave man!" she breathed. "Oh, my heart eet beat so for you! I have such a terrible fear that he would keel you!"
Carker felt a strange thrill that ran over him from head to feet.
"Would you have cared so much?" he asked hoarsely.
"Eet would have keeled me, too, señor!" she answered. "The lake—I should have leaped into eet! Like Murillo, I cannot swim."
"Like Murillo, eh?" exclaimed Greg. "Then the fellow can't swim? Well, I think it's up to me to pull him out."