grateful I am in other ways. I am a stranger in this part of your
fine country, but I expect to be better acquainted soon. But where
is our horse?" he asked quickly, not seeming to understand what
had happened. "How are we to continue our journey?" and he looked
at his driver.

"We're at the end of it now, in more ways than one," Hank
answered, with a smile. "You're just where you wanted to go,
though not in the style I calculated on taking you."

"But I do not comprehend, sir," said the Spaniard, in rather
puzzled accents. "I have engaged you to take me to a certain
place. There is an accident. We go through a fence with a
resounding crash--Ah! I can hear that smash yet!" and he put his
hands to his ears in a somewhat dramatic manner.

"Then everything is black. Our horse disappears, and--"

"He's down there, if you want to know _where_ he disappeared to,"
broke in Hank, practically.

"It is no matter--if he is gone," went on the Spaniard. "But I do
not comprehend--assimilate--no, comprehend--that is it. I do not
comprehend what you mean when you say we are at our journey's
end."

"I'll tell you," exclaimed Hank, as he glanced at Joe and Blake in
a manner that caused them to wonder. "You said you wanted to
find--"