“What are you doing—chasing yourself round the block for exercise?” demanded the astonished Herc.
“No, but I’m almost certain that I saw some one dodge behind those palms yonder as I jumped up. Just before that I heard a rustling in the creepers behind you.”
“Somebody rubbering?”
“That’s what it looked like. I don’t know what to make of it.”
“I do,” put in Stanley, rubbing his grizzled chin.
“What, then?”
“That was a mighty interesting conversation we were just having.”
“To whom but ourselves?”
“To any one named Guzman, or kin to the Guzmans,” pronounced Stanley gravely.