“Humph! I don’t see how you can resist. I would feel utterly lost without a cigar. Well, I’ll see you later.” And thus speaking William Jarvey took himself off.
“I sincerely trust the rest of the men we meet will be of a better sort than that fellow,” remarked Roger. “I don’t like his make-up at all.”
“I agree with you, Roger,” answered Dave. “He looks like a chap who would be very dictatorial if he had the chance––one of the kind who loves to ride over those under him.”
“I can’t get over the way he kept looking at you, Dave. He acted as if he had met you before and was trying to place you.”
“I noticed he did look at me pretty closely a number of times,” answered our hero. “But I took it that he was only trying to size me up. You know some strangers have that habit.”
“Well, he didn’t look at me that way,” continued the senator’s son. “I believe he was doing his best to try to place you.”
“I wish I had asked him where he was from. Maybe that might have given us some sort of clue to his identity.”
“Let’s ask him if we get the chance.”
On the journey to San Antonio they had an opportunity to speak to William Jarvey a number of times, and once they sat at the same table with him in the dining-car. When asked where he came from, he replied rather evasively that he had lived for a great number of years in the Northwest, but that he had left that section of the country to try his fortunes in Mexico.