It was now time to turn his attention to the hooded man. The fellow had been stunned when he was thrown from his horse; but he was now stirring and groaning. Jack bent over him and pulled off his hood. As he did so he staggered back with an amazed exclamation.
The face the starlight revealed was that of Alvarez, the man whose destiny had been so oddly linked with Jack’s!
“Where am I? What has happened?” exclaimed the man in Spanish as he opened his eyes.
“’You have been engaged in the despicable work of cattle stealing, Alvarez,” spoke Jack sternly. “If you had not been thrown at my very feet, you would have perished miserably under the hoofs of the herd you planned to steal.”
At the first sound of Jack’s voice Alvarez had staggered painfully to his feet. Now he uttered a cry.
“It is you, Señor Merrill! I thought you were miles from here.”
“Well, I am not, as you see. Are you badly hurt?”
“I do not know. I think my arm is broken. It pains fearfully.”
“I will examine it by daylight. Are you armed?”
“I was, señor, but I lost my pistol in that fearful ride before the stampede.”