“I believe you are right, Mr. Lingall; but either of them would cheat you if he got the chance,” laughed Lobo; but, being a courier himself, it was for his interest to cry down the men with whom travellers have to deal, in order to enhance the value of his own calling.
The landlord would furnish mules and a guide; and in an hour the animals were ready for a start. It was not known where Raymond had gone: he had taken the mules for San Roque, but with the understanding that he could go as far as he pleased with them. The name of the landlord’s guide was Julio Piedra. He was armed to the teeth, as Raymond’s guide had been. He was a good-natured, talkative fellow; and the fugitive would certainly have done better, so far as the agreeableness of his companion was concerned, if he had patronized the landlord instead of the stable-keeper.
When the party arrived at the hotel in San Roque, their store of information was increased by the knowledge that Raymond had started that morning for Ronda. The pursuit looked very hopeful now, and the travellers resumed their journey.
“We are not making more than three or four knots an hour on this tack,” said Bark, when they had ridden a short distance.
“Three miles an hour is all you can average on mules through this country,” replied Lobo.
“Can’t we offer the guide a bonus to hurry up?”
“You can’t stand it to ride any faster; and, as it is, you will be very sore when you get out of bed to-morrow morning.”
“I can stand any thing in this chase,” added Bark confidently.
“What good will it do to hurry?” persisted Lobo. “It is one o’clock now; and Raymond has five hours the start of us. It will be impossible to overtake him to-day. The mules can go about so far; and at six o’clock we shall reach the place where Raymond stopped to dine. That will be Barca de Cuenca; and that will be the place for us to stop over night.”
“Over night! I don’t want to stop anywhere till we come up with Raymond,” replied Bark.