"If your father is right," he continued, "so much the better—the knowledge will make our minds easy; but I can't and won't stand this suspense any longer."
In a sense I was completely in his power. Whether I went or not he would go, and by himself would most certainly proceed to extreme measures.
"Very well, José," I said reluctantly, after weighing the matter in my mind, "have your own way."
"There is no other," he replied. "Come, let us go to the workshop and get a few tools."
I did not know his plan, but it was evident he had thought it all out. First he made a simple but effective gag; then he selected a long piece of thin but tough rope, several strips of hide, a large rug, and a tiny lantern.
"Now," said he with a chuckle, "I think we shan't have much trouble with Mr. Lureña."
On our way to the lane he told me his plan, and gave me full directions as to my share in it. The night was dark, but we moved quietly, speaking only in whispers, and straining our ears for the slightest sound.
At the bend in the narrow lane José unrolled the cord, and I, taking one end in my hand, sat down in the darkness, laying the gag and a strip or two of hide on the ground near me. José moved to the other side of the lane, and we let the rope lie slack across the road. Then we waited in silence for the coming of Lureña, feeling confident that he would not leave the house till the night was far spent.
This adventure was not to my liking, and I could only hope that in some way my presence might be of use to Montilla. Somehow I had not the slightest hope of my father's idea proving right. My old distrust of the man returned in full force, and I dreaded what an examination of Lureña's pockets would reveal.
Slowly, very slowly, the minutes passed; a whole hour went by, and still there was no sign of our intended victim. Had he left the house by the front? I almost hoped he had. Yet, should he escape us this time, I knew that now José had started his quarry he would run it to earth.