“They have been killed by some wild beast,” declared Adrian. “They look just like sheep that have been killed by wolves.”
“Yes,” replied Donald, “or by dogs.”
“Why do you say dogs, Don?”
“I just have an idea; that’s all.”
Adrian wrinkled his brow. Then a smile of intelligence passed over his face.
“I see,” he exclaimed. “I have the same idea—Tanto!”
“Exactly,” replied Don. “But they have captured Guadalupe in spite of the dog.”
“By George, Don, you’ve hit it exactly! But where is the dog now? He must have escaped, or we should see his body here.”
“True,” replied Don. “But why should he run away? You’d think a dog which could do such a thing would stick to his mistress no matter what happened.”
“Sure you would. There’s a mystery here we must unravel. Where do you suppose Tanto is?”