"He has gone to Fortuna," he said, wiping his face with the bath-towel which he wore about his neck.
"And what for?" demanded Bud imperatively.
"I don't know, señor," writhed Mendez. "I brought him a letter."
"From whom?"
"I don't know—it was given to me by Juana, the servant of the Señorita Aragon."
"Ah!" breathed Bud, and pretended not to be surprised.
"Well, let 'im go!" he said to himself, and went back into the mine. It was what he had expected in a way, and his code bade him keep his hands off. But the next morning, when the evil was either avoided or done, he thrust his rifle into its sling and started for the town. At the jail he halted and gazed in through the windows—then he rode up to the hotel and asked for Phil.
"What? Have you not heard?" clamored Don Juan. "Ah, it is most unfortunate—I would not have had it happen for the world!"
"What?" inquired Bud succinctly.
"Why, the quarrel—the encounter with Capitan del Rey! I did my best, I assure you, to prevent it, for the town has been put under martial law and the captain is in full charge. They quarreled over the favor of a lady, and now your friend is in jail."