Well, at any rate, he knew now how the thing had started.  He heaved a sigh of relief and threw himself down on the bed, wadding the pillow into a hard ball under the nape of his neck and unfolding the Mexican newspaper.  He had intended to move camp; but now that they had begun to trail him, he decided to stay where he was and give them a run for their money, as he put it.

Starr could read Spanish well enough for ordinary purposes.  He went carefully through Las Nuevas, from war news to the local advertisements.  There was nothing that could even be twisted into a message of hidden meaning to the initiated. Las Nuevas was what it called itself:  The News.  It was exactly as innocuous as he had believed it to be.  Its editorial page, even, was absolutely banal in its servility to the city, county, state and national policy.

“That’s a hell of a thing to steal!” grumbled Starr, and threw the paper disgustedly from him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

STARR FINDS SOMETHING IN A SECRET ROOM

That day Starr rode out into the country and looked at a few head of cows and steers that a sickly American wanted to sell so he could go East for his health (there being in most of us some peculiar psychological leaning toward seeking health afar).  Starr went back to town afterwards and made Rabbit comfortable in the corral, reasoning that if he were going to be watched, he would be watched no matter where he went; but he ate his supper in the dining room of the Plaza Hotel, and sat in the lobby talking with a couple of facetious drummers until the mechanical piano in the movie show across the street began to play.

He went to the show, sat through it patiently, strolled out when it was over, and visited a saloon or two.  Then, when he thought his evening might be considered well rounded out with harmless diversions, he went out to his cabin, following the main street but keeping well in the shadow as though he wished to avoid observation.

He had reason to believe that some one followed him out there, which did not displease him much.  He lighted his lamp and fussed around for half an hour or so before he blew out the light and went to bed.

At three o’clock in the morning, with a wind howling in from the mountains, Starr got up and dressed in the dark, fumbling for a pair of “sneakers” he had placed beside his bed.  He let himself out into the corral, being careful to keep close to the wall of the house until he reached the high board fence.  Here, too, he had to feel his way because of the pitchy blackness of the night; and if the rattling wind prevented him from hearing any footsteps that might be behind him, it also covered the slight sound of his own progress down the fence to the shed.  But he did not think he would be seen or followed, for he had been careful to oil the latch and hinges of his door before he went to bed; and he would be a faithful spy indeed who shivered through the whole night, watching a man who apparently slept unsuspectingly and at peace.