"Listen, my frien'," he continued with a terrifying smile, "I mus' ask you what it was, that gun-shot, which I hear while I await at Drown' Vallee. Eh? Who fire a gun?"
"I ain't heard no gun," replied Leverett in a strangled voice.
"You did not shoot? No?"
"No! — damn it all——"
"And Jake? He did not fire?"
"No, I tell yeh——"
"Ah! Someone lies. It is not me, my frien'. No. Let us examine your rifle——"
Leverett made a rush for the gun; Quintana slung him back against the oak tree and thrust an automatic pistol against his chin.
"Han's up, my frien'," he said gently, "— up! high up! — or someone will fire another shot you shall never hear. … So! … Now I search the other pocket. … So! … Still no packet. Bah! Not in the pants, either? Ah, bah! But wait! Tiens! What is this you hide inside your shirt——?"
"I was jokin'," gasped Leverett; "— I was jest a-goin' to give it to you——"