"I don't know."
"You don't know? Ha! don't fool with me, lad—I am in no humor for it now."
"Well, I don't know, and that is all there is to it. We separated several minutes ago."
"I do not believe you—he is hiding somewhere in the hollow. Tell me where, or as sure as I stand here, I will put a bullet through your head." And the pistol was aimed straight at Walter.
Before the youth could remonstrate, indeed, before he had time to think, the crack of a Mauser penetrated the damp air. A second of silence followed, and then, to Walter's amazement, Captain Coleo sank down where he stood, a ball through his brain.
"I hit him! what a fine shot!" The words came from Carlos, as he emerged into the opening, the rifle still in hand. "That makes number two, for de udder rascal is laid low with a broken head. Señor, we are in luck, but let us make de most of our chance."
"But—but—is he dead?" asked Walter, in a hoarse whisper. To him such a proceeding seemed little less than murder.
"Dead? To be sure he is dead. But don't let
