“That is plainly to be seen.”
“At first we were not sure, and then word came to-day by a runner from an old man at San Luis Rey de Francia, who said he had given you lodging for a night, and, also, we saw how you were treated by the people of the mission and the presidio. So we came.”
“And now—?” the caballero asked.
“What is your wish, señor? In a cañon five miles away there is a comfortable camp, and if you desire we’ll guide you to it.”
“I am of the opinion I’d much rather remain where am.”
“We do not understand your ways, señor, yet we trust you. If it is your desire to remain here beneath the mission walls, undoubtedly you have some good reason. But you must have a camp, señor—shelter and food and drink—and those of the mission will give you none.”
“You speak truth there,” the caballero admitted.
“Thinking, perhaps, you may decide to remain near the mission, we carried with us material for your camp. We can pitch it for you beside the creek in a very short time, señor. When the dawn comes, those of the mission will find Captain Fly-by-Night in a comfortable teepee, with skins for his bed, an abundance of food and wine, cooking vessels, a heap of fuel. Every night one of us will fetch fresh meat and other food, and hear what you may have to say in the way of orders.”
“This kindness will be the death of me,” said the caballero.
“We cannot do too much for Captain Fly-by-Night. We may build your camp?”