"He ain't forgot where he put it nor how to get hold of it again, you bet!" growled Marty. "Hi tunket! this sun ought to sweat it out of him. Ain't it hot?"
"And dusty," sighed Janice. "Oh, thank goodness! here's the bottom of the hill."
Carlitos grinned back at them—the smile of a wolf, but with his kind eyes twinkling.
"How you do, eh? The señorita not like such traveling—by goodness, no?" he said. "But if we travel not fast on the—what you call?—down-grade, we not travel far, perhaps, yes?"
Janice covered her countenance and made no reply, for the startled face of Hotchkiss was likewise turned back.
"You don't have to go so fast on my account," he snarled. "I got all the time there is."
"Cricky!" whispered Marty. "I'd like to hear him say that after the judge and jury get through with him. He ought to get life for what he's done."
"Sh!" begged Janice. "It will do no good to quarrel with him here."
They rattled on through a pleasant valley, with here and there a bunch of cattle or horses grazing. Occasionally a vaquero dashed past and waved his hand in greeting to Carlitos Ortez. The latter seemed to fall into a gloomy mood and for two hours did not speak.
Then he stopped the car beside a well at the edge of the chaparral and there in the shade the passengers alighted, while Carlitos filled his radiator and tinkered with parts of the machine that seemed to need attention.