"The recommendation is unnecessary. I shall not be idle."
Don Stefano seized the old hunter's hand, and pressed it between his own.
"Brighteye," he said to him, with considerable emotion,
"I will not speak of our old friendship, nor of the services which I have been several times so fortunate as to render you; I will only repeat, and I know it will be sufficient for you, that the happiness of my whole life depends on the success of our expedition."
"Good, good; have confidence in me, Don José. I am too old to change my friends; I do not know who is right or wrong in this business; I wish that justice may be on your side; but that does not affect me. Whatever may happen, I will be a good and faithful companion to you."
"Thanks, my old friend. Tomorrow night, then."
After uttering these few words, Don Stefano, or, at least, the man who called himself so, made a move as if to withdraw; but Brighteye stopped him, with a sudden gesture.
"What is the matter?" the stranger asked.
The hunter laid a forefinger on his mouth, to recommend silence, and turned to Ruperto, who had remained silent and apathetic during the interview.
"Coyote," he said to him, in a low voice.