Harper nodded gravely. “Oh yes,” he said. “That’s why I’m going to make a kind of special dinner. I don’t think I had much breakfast, and I don’t quite know when we may get another.”
The dinner he had given the cook instructions concerning was rather more elaborate than usual, and flasks of red and amber wine stood among the dishes and the piled-up fruit. Neither of them had much to say, but they ate, and when very little remained on the table Harper leaned back in his chair with a smile of content.
“That’s one thing Morales can’t take away from me, and I guess it should carry me on quite a while,” he said.
They lay still, cigar in hand, for the most part of an hour and then as the sunlight faded from the patio Harper appeared to grow restless. Appleby watched him with a little smile.
“You don’t seem quite easy,” he said.
Harper stared at him, and then broke into a somewhat hollow laugh. “It’s a fact,” he said. “I was kind of wondering if it wasn’t time Pancho or one of the other men came back. I guess one could see them on the tram-line from the roof. Morales will be here in an hour or two.”
He went out, and Appleby sat still, not because that was pleasant, but because he felt the necessity of holding himself in hand. He desired to retain a becoming tranquillity, and now he could only wait found that the tension was growing unendurable. There was no sound in the patio, where the light was failing, but he could hear Harper’s footsteps on the flat roof above, and found himself listening eagerly as his comrade paced up and down. He stopped once, and Appleby felt his heart beating, for it seemed that something had seized Harper’s attention. The footsteps, however, commenced again, and then Harper, who appeared to stop once more for a second, came hastily down the outside stairway. Appleby felt his fingers trembling, and it was only by effort he sat still instead of moving to the door to question him. If Harper had seen anything it was evident his comrade would hear of it in a moment or two.
He came on down the stairway, and when he reached the veranda Appleby closed one hand as he moved in his chair, but Harper passed on down the lower stairway, and Appleby sat still again, while a curious little shiver ran through him. Half an hour had elapsed before his comrade came in again and flung himself down in the nearest chair. He shook his head disgustedly, and his face was very grim.
“No sign of Pancho, and I’m not going back,” he said. “I guess watching for folks who don’t come gets kind of worrying. There’s another thing. I went prospecting down the tram-line, and found that sergeant had brought his men closer in.”
“I could have told you that,” said Appleby. “If I had thought we could have got away I would scarcely have been quietly sitting here.”