“Look!” But in the moment Seyd grasped Billy’s arm the blaze fell. “I thought I saw him—that fellow, Sebastien—talking to Carlos, our mule-driver.”
“Well, why not?” Billy answered. “I gathered that he lives far out. Like ourselves, probably too far to start out to-night.”
“Of course.” Seyd nodded. “He just happened to be in my mind. Only why should he be in talk with our mule-driver?”
“Search me.” Billy shrugged. “But if he was, it is easy to prove it. There’s Carlos now. Call him up here.”
The muleteer, when questioned a minute later, shook his head. “No, señor, Don Sebastien is not here. He rode out at sunset, is now leagues away on the trail.”
If he were lying, his brown stolid face gave no sign; and, having given him his orders for next day, Seyd returned to his study of the crowd. He had forgotten the incident by the time Billy dragged him away to bed.
CHAPTER III
“