"Did he go?"
"Eh? So! You suspect José of this. God in heaven! José is a wild
boy--But wait! I'll ask Juan if he saw him; yes, and Victoria, too.
That is Victoria you hear squalling in the kitchen. Wait here."
Benito hurried away, leaving Dave a prey to perplexity; but he was back
again in a few moments. His face was grave.
"José did not go to the east pasture," he said.
"Where is he now?"
"No one seems to know."
Law walked to his horse, mounted, and galloped away. Benito, who
watched him, saw that he turned toward the river road which led to the
Las Palmas pumping-plant.
The more Dave thought about Ed Austin's death, the more certain he
became that it was in some way connected with Alaire's disappearance;
and the loose end by which the tangle might be unraveled, it seemed to
him, lay in the hands of Rosa Morales, José's sweetheart. That Sanchez
was the murderer Dave now had little doubt; but since the chance of
apprehending him was small, he turned his attention to the girl. He
would make Rosa speak, he told himself, if he had to use force--this
was no time for gentle methods. If she knew aught of Alaire's
whereabouts or the mystery of her departure from Las Palmas, he would
find a way to wring the truth from her. Dave's face, a trifle too
somber at all times, took on a grimmer aspect now; he felt a slow fury
kindling in his breast.
Years of experience had taught him to be always alert even during his
moments of deepest preoccupation, and so, from force of habit, when he
came to the pump-house road he carefully scanned it. In the dust were
fresh hoof-prints leading toward the river. Now he knew this road to be
seldom used, and therefore he wondered who could be riding it at a
gallop in this blistering midday heat. A few rods farther on and his
quick eye detected something else--something that brought him from his
saddle. Out of the rut he picked a cigarette butt, the fire of which
was cold but the paper of which was still wet from the smoker's lips.
He examined it carefully; then he remounted and rode on, pondering its
significance.
Dave loped out of the thicket and straight across the clearing to the
Morales house. Leaving Montrosa's reins hanging, he opened the door and
entered without knocking. Rosa appeared in the opening to another room,
her eyes wide with fright at this apparition, and Dave saw that she was
dressed in her finest, as if for a holiday or for a journey.
"Where's your father?" he demanded.
"He's gone to Sangre de Cristo. What do you want?"
"When did he go?"
"This morning, early. He--"
"Who's been here since he left?"
Rosa was recovering from her first surprise, and now her black brows
drew together in anger. "No one has come. You are the first. And have
you no manners to stride into a respectable house--?"
Dave broke in harshly: "Rosa, you're lying. José Sanchez has been here
within an hour. Where is he?" When the girl only grew whiter and raised
a hand to her breast, he stepped toward her, crying, "Answer me!"
Rosa recoiled, and the breath caught in her throat like a sob. "I'll
tell you nothing," she said in a thin voice. Then she began to tremble.
"Why do you want José?"
"You know why. He killed Don Eduardo, and then he rode here. Come! I
know everything."
"Lies! Lies!" Rosa's voice grew shrill. "Out of this house! I know you.
It was you who betrayed Panfilo, and his blood is on your hands,
assassin!" With the last word she made as if to retreat, but Dave was
too quick; he seized her, and for an instant they struggled
breathlessly.
Dave had reasoned beforehand that his only chance of discovering
anything from this girl lay in utterly terrorizing her and in profiting
by her first panic; therefore he pressed his advantage. He succeeded
better than he had dared to hope.
"You know who killed Señor Ed," he cried, fiercely. "The fortune-teller
read your plans, and there is no use to deny it."
Rosa screamed again; she writhed; she tried to sink her teeth into her
captor's flesh. In her body was the strength of a full-grown man, and
Dave could hardly hold her. But suddenly, as the two scuffled, from the
back room of the house came a sound which caused Dave to release the
girl as abruptly as he had seized her--it was the clink and tinkle of
Mexican spurs upon a wooden floor.