supposititious owl that I, flattened in the shadow of the wall, easily
escaped their notice. I slipped inside the doorway.

This brought me into a narrow passage between two buildings. The other
end looked into the interior court. A careful reconnaissance showed no
one in sight, so I walked boldly along the verandah in the direction of
the girl's room. Her note had said she was constantly guarded; but I
could see no one in sight, and I had to take a chance somewhere. Two
seconds' talk would do me: I wanted to know in which of the numerous
rooms the old man slept. I had a hunch it would be a good idea to share
that room with him. What to do then I left to the hunch.

But when I was half way down the verandah I heard the wicket door
slammed shut. The owl hunters had returned more quickly than I had
anticipated. Running as lightly as possible I darted down the verandah
and around the corner of the left wing. This brought me into a narrow
little garden strip between the main house and the wall dividing the
court from the corrals and stable yards. Footsteps followed me but
stopped. A hand tried the door knob to the corner room.

"Nothing," I heard Hooper's voice replying to a question. "Nothing at
all. Go to sleep."

The fragrant smell of Mexican tobacco reached my nostrils. After a
moment Ramon--it was he--resumed a conversation in Spanish:

"I do not know, señor, who the man was. I could but listen; it was not
well to inquire nor to show too much interest. His name, yes; Jim Starr,
but who he is----" I could imagine the shrug. "It is of no importance."