"Look there," the adventurer said, stretching out his arm, "that individual has placed himself by the roadside, within reach of the first passerby who may feel inclined to kill him in order to seize the little he possesses. I know countries in Apacheria where he would not lie in that way, without being really scalped by some Indian prowler."
"It is singular," Diego López continued, "he has no horse, and that is extraordinary in a country where the poorest peon has one."
"That is true," the Canadian said, and added a moment later, "I am very much afraid that our fancied sleeper is simply a dead man."
"Do you think so?" the peon said.
"Hang it, I do not know exactly, but he has not made the slightest movement since we first perceived him. If he be not dead, as I expect, he must be a very sound sleeper not to have heard the sound of our horses."
"I will inform the Señor Conde," the peon replied, as he turned back and rejoined his master.
The latter listened to his servant's report with, some surprise, for no assassination had occurred for a long time on this road, which was greatly frequented by travellers of every description. He spurred his horse, and joined the adventurer, who had pulled up to wait for him.
"What do you think about it?" he asked him.
"Nothing good," the latter replied; "still I think that we had better make sure. With your permission I will push on, and find out what it all means."
"We will all go," the count answered; "if the pretended corpse concealed a trap, there would be enough of us to foil it."