"Well, too bad," sighed the professor. "But better luck next time. Come again, boys."
And so the digging went on as fast as could be done, for each shovel of earth and each dislodged stone was carefully examined by the scientist or one of his scientific companions for any trace of the bones of an extinct monster.
Under the urging of Del Pinzo, the Greasers, all of whom had been engaged by him, worked hard—harder than they would have done had Del Pinzo not been there to spur them on. Professor Wright admitted this, and said it was why he was willing to pay the half-breed to oversee the laborers.
And of all who labored none was more active than a certain young Greaser, in ragged garments and with a most dirty face, who seemed to be in all parts of the excavating camp at once. He leaped down into holes, he climbed mounds and delved there a while; he labored with pick and shovel. He was all over at all times, it seemed.
So active was he that he attracted the attention of Del Pinzo, who, strolling over to the youth remarked, in Mexican Spanish:
"I don't seem to remember you. Where are you from?"
To which, in native dialect, he was answered:
"I come in my brother's place. San Feliece he is much sick this day. I take his place."
Del Pinzo thought back rapidly. One of his workers of this name was missing, and, well—all Greasers looked alike. He turned, and the youth, with a quiet chuckle, resumed his activities.
But, as the youth labored, his eyes seemed to follow Del Pinzo more than they kept to the matters immediately in hand. Though he struck hard with his pick, and took out heaping shovelfuls, this youth ever had his eyes on the half-breed, watching and watching as Del Pinzo strolled about the camp grounds.