"Where?"
"I don't know."
Dave spoke brusquely: "Come, Benito; you must know, for your wife went with her. Are you trying to keep something back?"
"No, no! As God is my judge!" Benito declared, "I didn't know they were going until the very last, and even then Dolores would tell me nothing. We were having bad times here at Las Palmas; there were stormy scenes yonder in the house. Señor Ed was drinking again, you understand? The señora had reason to go."
"You think she ran away to escape him?"
"Exactly."
Dave breathed more easily, for this seemed to settle Strange's theory. The next instant, however, his apprehensions were doubled, for Benito added:
"No doubt she went to La Feria."
Law uttered an incredulous exclamation. "Not THERE! Surely she wouldn't go to La Feria at such a time. Why, that country is ablaze. Americans are fleeing from Mexico."
"I hadn't thought of that," Benito confessed. "But if she didn't go there, where did she go? Saints above! It is a fine condition of affairs when a wife keeps secrets from her husband, eh? I suppose Dolores feared I would tell Don Eduardo, God rest his soul! This much I do know, however: not long ago there came a letter from General Longorio, offering settlement for those cattle he stole in his government's name. Dolores told me the señora was highly pleased and was going to Mexico for her money. It was a mark of Longorio's favor, you understand me? He's a great—friend, an ardent admirer." Benito winked. "Dolores told me all about that, too. No, I think they went to La Feria."