“Oh,” said Billy, and yawned. He was not interested in Mr. Grayson's amours. “Why didn't the poor boob go get her himself?” he inquired disinterestedly. “He must be a yap to hire a bunch o' guys to go cop off a siwash girl fer him.”
“It is not a siwash girl, Senor Capitan,” said Jose. “It is one beautiful senorita—the daughter of the owner of El Orobo Rancho.”
“What?” cried Billy Byrne. “What's that you say?”
“Yes, Senor Capitan, what of it?” inquired Jose. “Grayson he pay me furnish the men. Esteban he go with his warriors. I get Esteban. They go tonight take away the senorita; but not for Grayson,” and the old fellow laughed. “I can no help can I? Grayson pay me money get men. I get them. I no help if they keep girl,” and he shrugged.
“They're comin' for her tonight?” cried Billy.
“Si, senor,” replied Jose. “Doubtless they already take her.”
“Hell!” muttered Billy Byrne, as he swung Brazos about so quickly that the little pony pivoted upon his hind legs and dashed away toward the south over the same trail he had just traversed.
CHAPTER XV. AN INDIAN'S TREACHERY
THE Brazos pony had traveled far that day but for only a trifle over ten miles had he carried a rider upon his back. He was, consequently, far from fagged as he leaped forward to the lifted reins and tore along the dusty river trail back in the direction of Orobo.