He closed the drawer, and as he turned to leave the room caught sight of Don Pablo’s cartridge belt and revolver hanging on the back of a chair.
“I might need something like this,” he thought, and without a single qualm of conscience he buckled the belt around him, drew out the revolver, and loaded the empty chamber which Don Pablo had fired while in the boat.
With the revolver in his hand he was about to leave the room, when a soft voice—a voice which he never could forget—said quietly:
“Don’t you think, señor, that you are making yourself almost too much at home?”
At the sound of the voice, Billie turned as though shot.
“Santiago!” he exclaimed. “Where did you come from?”
If Billie had been surprised by the sound of the voice, Santiago was even more surprised when he recognized the visitor.
“Don Guillermo!” he cried. “Is it really you? I did not recognize you in that attire!”
“You mean in this lack of attire,” replied Billie
quizzically, as he regarded his bare feet and drabbled condition.