“Take the black faced one,” replied Arnold.  “He’s fatter.”

“Here goes then,” stated Lopez seeming hardly to take aim before pulling the trigger.  “The black faced one was what you wanted.”

His shot was successful.  The black faced sheep fell in his tracks.  Lopez swung quickly forward, picked up the sheep and started away with his burden over his shoulder.

“Come on, now,” he urged.  “The rest of the flock’ll go home all right and I want to get to the cabin right soon and get supper.”

The boys wondered at his haste to leave the spot.  Arnold looked quickly at Harry and exchanged questioning glances, but spoke no word.  Harry’s hands were busy with the mute language, however.

“Looks mighty suspicious,” he telegraphed to his chum.

“Just what I was thinking,” declared Arnold in reply.

“We’d better keep our weather eye open,” was Harry’s next suggestion.  “Maybe those are his sheep and maybe they are not.”

“You’re the wise boy,” Arnold agreed.  “I mistrust him.”

During this time the three travelers had been making good progress.  At length they came out into a small clearing in the center of which stood a log cabin surrounded by every evidence of shiftlessness and neglect.  A gunnysack did duty as a window and curtain also.  The chimney at the end of the building was of sticks and clay while the roof was of “rived” shingles.

At the approach of Lopez and the boys a large negro stepped out to meet them.  His face was black as ebony while his teeth were pearly white.  His grin was expansive.

“’Deed Boss, I’se powerful glad to see you,” he began.

“Shut up,” commanded Lopez.  “Take this sheep and get some supper on the way just as quick as you can and not a word out of your head.  I want you to get supper and I’ll do the talkin’.  Hear?”

“Yaas, sir, Boss.  I done hear you.  I sure can get supper.”

“Now, boys,” stated Lopez with a large, hospitable manner that was intended to be ingratiating, “help your se’fs to whatever you find.  Doright, here, will soon have things goin’ for supper.  Let’s set out on the gallery while he’s fixin’ up things.”

Accepting the invitation the boys disposed themselves upon the “gallery,” as the veranda is called in that country.  They noticed that Lopez continued to hold his rifle.  Only glances could be exchanged, however, for Lopez seemed to be watching them.

In a short time the negro announced supper and all went inside.  A rough deal table contained broiled steaks from the sheep, while sweet potatoes roasted in the embers of the fire were handed around by the servant.  The crude arrangements led the boys to again glance at one another in wonderment.

“Take right holt, boys,” urged Lopez, setting the example.

The boys were hungry enough to need no second invitation.  Surely the mutton was done to a turn and the sweet potatoes were the most delicious the boys had ever eaten.