“What is all the trouble?” he asked. “Have the Maderists attacked us?”
“Maderists,” laughed one. “Caramba, no! Don Pablo has been frightened by a shadow.”
“By his guilty conscience, more likely,” muttered another. “The idea of getting honest men up at this time of night to hunt goblins.”
“Look out! There he comes!” whispered another. “If he hears you, you will think of something besides goblins!”
While this conversation had been going on, Billie had managed to slip down stairs, and again took his place behind the bush in the patio. Then, as the men went back to the servants’ quarters, he edged around near the gate, watching an opportunity to slip through.
While he stood there waiting, he heard a clock strike midnight.
“It is not as late as I thought,” he said to himself. “There is still time if I am not detained.”
He glanced around and no one was in sight but Santiago. Outside all was dark, and he decided now was his chance.
Grasping the revolver tightly in his hand, he darted for the gateway, and bumped squarely into Don Pablo, who entered at the same moment.
For a moment the collision stopped Billie and