“Don Ferdinand told me not to speak of this to anybody whom we couldn’t trust thoroughly,” he said, by way of explanation, and with a nod towards the departing figure of Ramon he added: “The old man is a good hombre so far as we knew. But Don Ferdinand was insistent that I shouldn’t let out a word before any Mexicans.
“It was mighty warm down there, with that hot wind blowing, and I hadn’t slept well. Too hot for comfort. Pitched and tossed all night. Flew down yesterday afternoon,” he threw out for Captain Cornell’s understanding. “So the old don, Rafaela and I were sitting in the patio this morning, trying to keep cool. He was asleep, I expect, because, he hadn’t said a word for a long time. So was the old duenna in the background somewhere. Rafaela and I were talking in low voices, so as not to disturb the others.
“A man came into the patio, a rough-looking, villainous fellow. I did not remember ever seeing him about the place, but then there is a veritable army of retainers always hanging about, a sort of feudal lot of dependents; so that wasn’t strange. Anyway, Rafaela knew him, for, when he made a low bow and stood there with his high-crowned sombrero in hand, she spoke to him sharply, asking what he wanted. He replied that he wanted to speak to Don Ferdinand, and Rafaela waked her father.
“Don Ferdinand took a good look at the man, then he jumped up out of his chair.
“‘You, Pedro, what are you doing here?’ he demanded. ‘So far from the mine? Has anything gone wrong?’
“Pedro came closer, said something in a low voice. Then Don Ferdinand cast a quick glance toward Rafaela and me.
“‘Ah, Senor Jack,’ he said, ‘a thousand pardons. Permit me— There is a little matter of business to attend to.’ And with a bow to me he made off toward his office, Pedro at his heels.
“Well,” said Jack, leaning back, “I didn’t think much about the incident. These fellows are always so mysterious anyhow, about the merest trifles. I didn’t even ask Rafaela who the fellow was. She herself volunteered the information, saying he was foreman of a silver mine far back in the mountains which Don Ferdinand owns. For a long time, the old don had refrained from working the mine. He had sealed it up during the troubled years following the Madero revolution, although when Diaz had been President it had been a big producer. Now he had resumed operations again.
“‘Some little trouble at the mine brings Pedro,’ said Rafaela. ‘Oh, you men with your business. But look, Jack,’ she added, in a low voice, ‘Donna Ana sleeps.’
“I looked around. The old duenna was snoozing so hard, it would have taken an earthquake to wake her.