“By golly,” exclaimed Jack, suddenly, leaning forward to call to his father. “He’s recognized you and me. Duck, the rest of you. Let Ramirez see only us when he looks.”
There was such a tone of command in Jack’s voice that instinctively his listeners obeyed. They had only to sink back into their seats to be protected from the burning gaze of Ramirez by the figures of those standing up in their seats in the row between them, should the renegade turn around. And turn around he did, a moment later, thus justifying Jack’s precaution.
Obviously unwilling to face again the gaze of the Hamptons whom he had left in the lurch when he deserted their desert household, Ramon, nevertheless, faced about along with Ramirez. That he did so at the latter’s command was plain to be seen, for Ramirez gripped the older man by an arm. Ramon indicated his former employers, then dropped his gaze. Not so Ramirez, however, whose deep eyes stared boldly, insolently, as if he sought to engrave the features of the Hamptons in his memory.
Jack and his father withstood the scrutiny, which lasted only a moment, and, in fact, did a bit of staring in return. The face of the renegade was a mask of evil. Once seen, it would not soon be forgotten, Jack for one felt assured. And he congratulated himself on his forethought in persuading his companions to drop out of sight before Ramirez turned that camera-like eye upon them. Otherwise Ramirez would have been able to recognize them all again. And Jack had a feeling that somebody was going to be needed to keep an eye on this fellow, as soon as the crowd in the arena broke up and they all took their departure.
That Ramirez would wait until the ending of the event he did not question. What was his surprise, therefore, to see the latter face about and, gripping Ramon by an arm, start to make his way through the crowded stand toward the nearest stairway exit.
Jack and his father looked at each other. Their thought was the same. Ramirez and Ramon should be followed. But for either of them to shadow the precious pair would be foolish, inasmuch as they were known. Somebody else, someone of their companions, would have to play detective, if the others were to be kept in sight.
The cheering continued. They were as much alone in that mass of frenzied Mexicans as if on a desert island, so far as any recognition of their presence extended. For Jack to have questioned his father would have been perfectly safe. Nobody would have overheard who it was not intended should overhear. But spoken words were unnecessary. A question was asked and answered in glances alone.
Then Mr. Hampton bent down and addressed the flyer, acquainting him in a few brief words with the fact that Ramon and Ramirez were leaving.
“They know both Jack and me,” he said, “so it would be useless for us to follow them. But I’m worried about my friend Don Ferdinand. These men may know something about him. At least we ought not to let them get out of our sight, if we——”
Captain Cornell did not wait for further words. He climbed up on the seat and prepared to make his way along it toward the stairway. A quick glance showed him Ramirez and Ramon attempting to thrust their way toward the same destination, and making heavy going of it because of the densely packed mass of humanity that intervened. Another swift appraisal brought out the fact that he would be able to reach the stairway well ahead of them, in all likelihood, inasmuch as all the occupants of the topmost row of seats were standing up, thus leaving the bench free for him to walk on, with no interference such as Ramirez and Ramon were experiencing from another row of persons above.