He remained sitting on the skin before the doorway polishing the silver on his saddle, and did not look up as the other approached. Steps stopped beside him, there was a chuckle, then a voice:
“By all the good saints! It is Claudio!”
“Even so, señor,” replied the caballero, raising his head now, and getting slowly upon his feet, “and you owe me two pieces of gold. That was the wager, I believe, that you would be at San Diego de Alcalá before me.”
“So it was, caballero, and here are the coins. Ill luck attended me, while good fortune attended you.”
“Indeed?”
“This neophyte who trots at my heels—the same who served us at the Santa Barbara presidio—had a brother who possessed a horse, and I purchased it, also a mule, and got the neophyte for guide. I was not more than four hours behind you, señor, in starting.”
“But—in arriving——?”
“Things came to pass, señor. At San Fernando I made the acquaintance of a fray who wined and dined me so well that I slept overlong, afterward telling me, while I cursed, that he had done it because he feared I would kill my horse with riding. Arriving at the pueblo of Reina de Los Angeles, I made my way quickly to the inn——”
“Expecting to find me with my throat slit?” asked the caballero.
“Um! By rare good fortune, for you, it appears you did not visit the inn. I was somewhat surprised to hear it. But I felt that my chagrin was appeased when I met a certain man named Gonzales, a jovial fellow who insisted in playing host to me, purchasing wine, and playing cards.”