Gilbert came farther into the room. Everyone now had turned back, stood stock still, listening to these two.
"Yes," said young Jones. "I am. What of it?" He didn't understand matters at all. Absent from the house for a little time, he had been called back to find this medley of people.
Lopez searched his face again. "Tell me you 'ave been in Cañon Diabalo sometime? 'Ave you?"
"Of course. What of it?" Gilbert was mystified.
"You were there one night, three, mebbe four year ago?" Lopez persisted, hoping there could be no mistake.
"I don't remember," was the disappointing answer.
"You remember poor peon was wounded—near bleed to death?"
"What?" said Gilbert, light beginning to dawn upon him.
"You do!" shouted Lopez, delighted. "Where was 'e wounded? Quick! You tell!"