“Why else should he be saddled, no?” returned the groom, with an insolent laugh.
John’s temper flamed and he turned away with a disgusted snort, meaning to seek information elsewhere on a case he felt permitted no delay. But Ninian was cooler, if equally suspicious that Natan was concealing something that should be known; so, laying his hand not unkindly upon the youth’s shoulder, he said:
“If you know anything of this, where Miss Jessica has gone and with whom, or if alone, it will be worth your while to tell me and at once. I’m pretty good pay for seasonable articles,” he finished, in his journalistic manner.
He had taken a dollar from his pocket and was carelessly tossing it from hand to hand, nor was he disappointed when Natan fixed his black eyes 188 greedily upon the coin. Still the lad said nothing, only pondered in his own dull mind which of two masters it would benefit him most to serve; and annoyed by this hesitation, Ninian hazarded a guess:
“Oh, well, if you prefer to work for Antonio Bernal, it’s all one to me.”
Natan’s mouth flew open and his eyes grew wild:
“You know it, then, already, you?”
“I know many things,” was the sententious answer.
“But it is a pity, yes. The so fine man and such a rider. He will ride no more, poor Antonio, si.”
Ninian’s blood ran chill, yet he asked, still quietly, though foreseeing evil he dared not contemplate: