“Who knows!” said Maccario, with a little expressive movement of his shoulders, and sat thoughtfully silent looking down towards Santa Marta across the cane.
Appleby, who asked no more questions, lay still in his chair vacantly watching the strip of road that was growing dimmer now. He had toiled with fierce activity under the burning sun since early morning, and a pleasant lassitude was creeping over him, while the faint coolness and deepening shadow was curiously refreshing after the scorching heat and glare. The sun had dipped behind a hill shoulder far away, the peaks grew sharp in outline against a gleam of saffron, and the long waves of cane were fading to a soft and dusky green. Still though night comes swiftly in that region, the road still showed faintly white where it wound in sinuous curves across the darkening plain, and held his gaze. What he was watching for he did not know, but he was sensible of a vague expectancy. At last, when the road had faded, and the soft darkness closed down, Maccario raised his head suddenly, for a drumming sound rose from the cane.
“Somebody is coming this way, riding hard,” he said.
The sound grew a trifle plainer, sank, and rose again, and the two men strained their ears to listen. The darkness was growing denser, but Appleby glanced at his companion.
“The sound commenced suddenly just beyond the spot where our outer picket is,” he said.
Maccario nodded. “Morales will certainly watch the road. It is a friend who has ridden by one of the paths through the cane with news for us,” he said.
In another few minutes the beat of hoofs was unmistakable, and when it rang loudly down the unseen road the two descended to the big living-room where Pancho had lighted the lamps. Maccario laughed as he sat down, and lighted a cigarette.
“When one assumes the tranquillity it not infrequently comes to him, and if the news is bad we shall hear it soon enough,” he said.
Appleby said nothing, for there were times when he found his comrade’s sage reflections a trifle exasperating, and he was glad when there was a trampling of hoofs in the patio, and he heard Harper greeting somebody. Then he sprang to his feet as a man came in.
“Harding!” he said.