"Si, señor, that is all. I know no more."
From this conversation it was plain to me that the law was beginning to work, and that Galvez was becoming uneasy. Knowing his character, I, too, became uneasy, for, should he be rendered desperate, there was no telling what tactics he might resort to. It was this consideration that made me so anxious for the safe return of my two partners.
From my vantage-point on the mountain I kept up a pretty constant watch for the next few days; no one could come across the valley from any direction without my seeing them—during daylight, that is—and unless Galvez had slipped into Hermanos after dark I was sure he had not returned, when, about three o'clock on the afternoon of the fourth day I espied Dick, a long way off, coming back from Mosby. It was twelve hours earlier than I had expected him, and wondering if he had any special reason for making such a quick trip, I got my pony and hurried off to meet him.
I had a feeling that Dick was bringing news of some sort, and his first words after shaking hands proved the correctness of my impression.
"Well, old chap!" he exclaimed. "I've got news for you this time that will make you 'sit up and take notice':—Arthur may be here any day; and he has at last got track of that patent."
"Got a letter from him, then, did you?" I asked.
"Yes; written from Cadiz, in Spain, more than three weeks ago."
"From Cadiz!" I cried. "What's he doing there?"
"His father sent him over to go through a chest of old papers they have in their house there. Arthur says—I'll give you his letter to read as soon as we get to camp—he says that he spent a fortnight reading all sorts of musty documents, without success, when at last he came upon an old note-book with the name of Arthur the First on its fly-leaf, and in that he found a single line referring to the patent—the only mention that has turned up anywhere."
"And what does that say?"