Most of my time until the next thing occurred was occupied in figuring on all the things that might happen to me.  One thing I acknowledged to myself right off the reel:  the Mexicans had sure trussed me up for further orders!  I could move my hands, but I knew enough of ropes and ties to realize that my chances of getting free were exactly nothing.  My plans had gone perfectly up to this moment.  I had schemed to get inside the ranch and into Old Man Hooper’s room; and here I was!  What more could a man ask?

The next thing occurred so soon, however, that I hadn’t had time to think of more than ten per cent. of the things that might happen to me.  The outside door opened to admit Hooper, followed by the girl.  He stood aside in the most courtly fashion.

“My dear,” he said, “here is Mr. Sanborn, who has come to call on you.  You remember Mr. Sanborn, I am sure.  You met him at dinner; and besides, I believe you had some correspondence with him, did you not?  He has taken so much trouble, so very much trouble to see you that I think it a great pity his wish should not be fulfilled.  Won’t you sit down here, my dear?”

She was staring at me, her eyes gone wide with wonder and horror.  Half thinking she took her seat as indicated.  Instantly the old man had bound her elbows at the back and had lashed her to the chair.  After the first start of surprise she made no resistance.

“There,” said Hooper, straightening up after the accomplishment of this task; “now I’m going to leave you to your visit.  You can talk it all over.  Tell him all you please, my dear.  And you, sir, tell her all you know.  I think I can arrange so your confidences will go no further.”

For the first time I heard him laugh, a high, uncertain cackle.  The girl said nothing, but she stared at him with level, blazing eyes.  Also for the first time I began to take an interest in her.

“Do you object to smoking?” I asked her, suddenly.

She blinked and recovered.

“Not at all,” she answered.

“Well then, old man, be a sport.  Give me the makings.  I can get my hands to my mouth.”

The old man transferred his baleful eyes on me.  Then without saying a word he placed in my hands a box of tailor-made cigarettes and a dozen matches.

“Until morning,” he observed, his hand on the door knob.  He inclined in a most courteous fashion, first to the one of us, then to the other, and went out.  He did not lock the door after him, and I could hear him addressing Cortinez outside.  The girl started to speak, but I waved my shackled hand at her for silence.  By straining my ears I could just make out what was said.

“I am going to bed,” Hooper said.  “It is not necessary to stand guard.  You may get your blankets and sleep on the verandah.”