“Oh, all right,” said Bob, ungraciously. “I’ll do as you say. Only you must see that it doesn’t give me a chance for action.”
“That remains to be seen. If you should have to call for Murray, you’ll have to be his guide. And that would bring you action a-plenty.”
“Wouldn’t he be out of luck, invading a foreign country?” asked Bob, curiously.
“Leave that to him. Anyway, what are we doing?”
“Oh, we’re just acting on our own,” said Bob. “That’s different.”
“Not much. Well, so long. See you in a couple of minutes.”
“So long,” answered Bob. “And the best of luck.”
Thereupon Captain Cornell strolled nonchalantly around the corner, and set off at the dawdling pace of the loafer, toward the house of mystery and the car of midnight blue.
CHAPTER XIV.
A NOVEL S. O. S.
It was a silent sun-drenched street. Down at the bull ring they were just then watching Estramadura in the act of despatching his second bull, with ahead of them the prospect of Juan Salento playing a return engagement, making the fourth and final fight of the afternoon. No well-regulated bull fight at Nueva Laredo would pretend to be worthy of consideration without four encounters. Estramadura had been followed by his Mexican rival, who had successfully defended his reputation and had performed even more thrillingly than his fellow matador from Spain. Practically all Nueva Laredo was down there making holiday, and so not a soul appeared in sight on the sun-filled Calle Libertad except Captain Cornell.