“What sort of a man is he?”
It was a direct question, but Frank believed it the best under the circumstances. The ranchero idly pulled at his cheroot, and gazing at Frank languidly through half-shut eyes, replied:
“Well, senor, I think it not good taste to speak disparagingly of a man’s character. Yet Miguel is so well known that it cannot hurt to tell the truth that he is a bad man.”
“Indeed!”
“In fact, he is an outlaw, and if he had his just deserts would be hung for many a dark crime.”
“Ah!” said Frank, quietly; “perhaps then you can tell me of the unfortunate American, Harvey Montaine, who it is said has fallen into his clutches?”
The ranchero smiled in a peculiar way as he replied slowly:
“Yes, I can tell you all about this affair, for I know Harvey Montaine.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Frank, unguardedly, “then he is a friend of yours?”
“Well, perhaps so. You know him yourself, I take it?”