The ranchero went to open the door, which the newcomer threatened to break in. A man walked in, who took a careful glance around, then doffed his hat and bowed. The confederates exchanged a glance of vexation on recognising him, for he was no other than Shaw, Red Cedar's youngest son.
"I am afraid I disturb you, gentlemen," the young man said, with an ironical smile.
"Not at all," Andrés made answer; "on the contrary, we are delighted to see you."
"Thanks!"
And the young man fell back into a butaca.
"You are very late at Santa Fe," the monk remarked.
"It is true," the American said, with some embarrassment; "I am looking for my father, and fancied I should find him here."
"He was so a few hours back, but he was obliged to leave us."
"Ah!"
This exclamation was rather drawn from the young man by the necessity he felt of replying, than through any interest he took in the information afforded him. He was evidently preoccupied; but Fray Ambrosio did not appear to notice it, as he continued,—