“You won’t say that when you get to Barca,” laughed Lobo. “You will be tired enough to go to bed without your supper. Besides, the mules will want rest, if you do not; for the distance will be twenty miles from Algeciras. Raymond stopped over night at San Roque.”
“But where shall we catch up with him?”
“Not till we get to Ronda, as things now stand.”
“I don’t like the idea of dragging after him in this lazy way,” protested Bark.
“What do you wish to do?” demanded Lobo, who had been over this road twenty times or more, and knew all about the business.
“I don’t believe in stopping anywhere over night,” replied Bark with enthusiasm.
“Very well, Mr. Lingall,” added Lobo, laughing. “If when you get to Barca, and have had your supper, you wish to go any farther, I will see what can be done. I can make a trade with Julio to go on with these mules, or we can hire others.”
“You say that Raymond left at noon the place where we shall be at supper-time: where will he be at that time?” asked Bark.
“He will go on to Barca de Cortes, which is twelve miles farther; unless he takes it into his head, as you do, that he will travel in the night.”
“I am in favor of going on to that place where he sleeps.”