“Are you going to stop this nonsense?” demanded Don Emilio, his voice quavering with wrath.
“Dawson,” remarked French, “you don’t appear to realize your fix.”
Joe stared at him haughtily, remarking:
“My bill is not due until the end of the week. Go away and let me read in peace.”
Pedro, in the background, was holding one hand over his broad mouth to hide his expansive grin over this cool nonsense. But Don Emilio was fast losing his not very certain temper.
“Go and bring that other boy Halstead,” ordered Alvarez. “When the two of them see each other they’ll know their game is up, and they’ll come to their senses. If not, nothing will make any difference to them after a few minutes more.”
Without a word French turned, treading down the ravine. Just a little later he reappeared, looking bewildered.
“Alvarez,” he gasped, “come here. That other boy isn’t where we left him. Hurry!”
Uttering an exclamation of amazement, Alvarez darted after his friend. Pedro and the little brown man, caught in the astonishment, bolted after their leaders.
Joe could not get away from the tree to which he was bound, but he stood there grinning with cool enjoyment. In another moment he felt a lively sound at his back. Then Halstead whispered in his ear: