There were several men at the bar now, and both Rathburn and the Mexican were keeping an eye upon them.
“Oh, that he will have to tell you himself when you are ready,” Gomez replied.
Rathburn snorted in keen disgust. But Gomez sidled up to him.
“You go to the Mallory rancho last night,” he whispered. “You are not the only one there last night.” His smile flashed again, as Rathburn looked at him quickly.
“There was another there before,” he continued; “Mr. Doane. He goes there, too. You have been away a long time, and Mr. Doane take the advantage.”
Rathburn’s eyes were narrowing, and the Mexican evidently took his face for an encouraging sign.
“Mr. Doane––he is not lucky at cards,” continued Gomez. “He like to play, and he play lots; but not too well. Maybe he have more luck in love––while you are away.”
“What do you mean?” asked Rathburn through his teeth.
“Oh, you do not know?” The Mexican raised his black brows. “While you are away, Mr. Doane make hay while the sun shine bright. He was there much. He was there last night before you. He tries hard to steal your señorita before you come, and he will try to keep her now.” He winked slyly.