"That so? You were on the spot. You left tracks. I measured 'em. They were the same tracks you left out in the corral five hours ago."
Tony's eyes flashed with a sudden discovery. "The mud—you meex it to get my footprints."
"You're a good guesser."
Alviro threw up his hands. "I was there. It iss true. But I did not kill the gringo dog. I was too late."
"You can tell me all about that on the way back."
"If I go back they will hang me."
"You'll get a fair trial."
"By a gringo jury before a gringo judge." The tone of Alviro was more than skeptical. It was bitter with the sense of racial injustice.
"I can't argue that with you, Tony. My business is to take you to Tascosa. That's what I'm here for."
The American behind the bar spoke again. "Listens fine! He's a Mexican, ain't he? They claim he killed a white man. Well, then, the mob would take him from you an' lynch him sure."