"Well, it is the one which will convey us to Galveston."
"But our horses?"
"Don't be uneasy; the owner of that wretched rancho will take all proper care of them."
John Davis raised a whistle to his lip and blew it twice sharply. Almost immediately the door of the rancho opened and a man appeared; but, after taking one step forward, he took two backward, doubtless astonished at seeing two persons when he only expected one.
"Halloh! halloh, John!" Davis shouted, "don't go in again."
"Is it you, then?" he asked.
"Yes! Unless it be the demon who has assumed my face."
The fisherman shook his head with a dissatisfied air.
"Do not jest so, John Davis," he said; "the night is black and the sea rough; so the demon is about."
"Come, come, old porpoise," the American continued, "get your boat ready, for we have no time to lose. This Señor is a friend of mine. Have you any alfalfa for our horses in your cabin?"