What could he do? Anything for a horse, a mule, something to carry on the pursuit! The irony of it! That motor there, which had served for the crime, was useless now on the narrow rocky mountain pathway which they must follow.
Then little Christobal, listening with wide-open eyes, started. He had heard a noise at the far end of the court Could there be horses in that deserted bodega? It sounded just like hoofs stamping on a plank flooring. Then the child heard a faint neigh.
Dick had vanished, and Christobal, running toward the farm buildings, slipped through a half-open door. Yes, there was something there … llamas … three llamas … but thin, miserable creatures, worn out by the heavy loads of years, and incapable of carrying even a child. But llamas do not neigh. The boy slipped round the corner of the building, and stopped short in the shadow. Sitting motionless a few yards away was a horseman, watching the house. At his stirrup, attentively immobile as the horseman, was a llama—one of those light, fine-limbed, long-necked beasts which carry a man's belongings and follow him like a dog.
As Christobal caught sight of them, the horse shied. The rider reined it in, and swore, but his oath was cut short by a shot. A shadow had
