"Sanchez?" I repeated, inquiringly. "Is that The Badger's proper name?"
"Yes," replied the stranger. "Pedro Sanchez. The name of El Tejon was bestowed upon him by old Galvez, and consequently he objects to it. Your use of that name just now made him suspicious that you might be emissaries of the padron, and it was that which caused him to jump back into the water so suddenly."
"I see. I'll take care in future. Here! Give me your hand"—seeing that he was about to come up the bank.
"Thank you," replied the stranger, reaching out his hand to me and giving mine a shake before he let go—a greeting he repeated with Dick. "I'm very glad to find you are a couple of American boys and not a pair of Mexican cut-throats, as we rather suspected you might be. Let us go up to your fire there and sit down. The water will take another half-hour yet to drain off completely."
Accordingly, we walked up to the fire, where the stranger dried his feet and pulled on his boots again.
"Why did you suspect us of being Mexican cut-throats?" asked Dick. "Did you think that old Galvez had sent us up here on a hunt for you or for El—for Sanchez, I mean?"
"Yes, that was it. We've been watching you for two days past. We saw you go down to Hermanos yesterday and start up the trail this morning. From the fact of your having gone down to the village, Pedro was inclined to believe you were hunting him or me; but, for my part, I rather inferred from your actions that you were hunting the old copper mine."
"The old copper mine!" we both cried.
"Yes. Did I make a mistake? Weren't you?"
"No, you didn't make any mistake," replied Dick. "What surprised us was that you should know anything about it."