The latter shrugged. It was an eloquent shrug. It said plainer than words that Rafaela was correct.
The girl was silent a moment, sitting with chin cupped in hand, staring thoughtfully at the paving at her feet. Then she glanced up quickly, understanding in her eyes.
“This Ramirez of whom you speak? Where is he?”
“He marches toward Nueva Laredo,” said Pedro.
“And my father has gone in pursuit of him alone,” said Rafaela. It was more a challenge than a question.
Pedro hesitated. Rafaela stamped her foot. Pedro made haste to confirm her words.
“Only, Senorita, he goes not alone. A dozen men he brought with him to the mine—these lazy fellows who grow fat here on his bounty. Yet they are good fighters and will lay down their lives for him. And all are well armed.”
“I knew it,” said Rafaela, with conviction. “And he told you not to tell me. Well, that is all, Pedro. Rest now before you go back to the mine. For I suppose you will want to return?”
“Si, Senorita. I was not to tell, but you found out. I never could keep secrets from a woman.” Pedro’s resignation was so comical that involuntarily all laughed. “And when I return,” he added, “I shall want twelve more good fighters.”
“You shall have them,” promised Rafaela. And with a bow Pedro disappeared.