Lopez indicated Pell’s body, and took out a cigarette nonchalantly.  “Take ’im away.  Ees no use for nobody no more.”  Pedro started to lift the heavy form.  “Save ze clothes and ze boots,” he reminded his faithful man.

“Si,” the latter said, meekly.

Venustiano appeared from the outer darkness, as if by magic, and rushed to Pedro’s aid.  They lifted the stricken Pell, and carried him away.

The distasteful business finished, Lopez turned to Gilbert.

“Now, zen, you all right some more, eh?” he asked.

Gilbert could not understand.  “I guess so,” he said, “I—­I thought you were captured!”

“Me?” said Lopez in surprise, “It is not me, ees my double!”

“Your double?” Gilbert, amazed, answered.

“Ees idea what I get from ze moving pitchers.”

Gilbert and Lucia stared at each other; then at the bandit.

“Then it wasn’t you they captured?” Gilbert said.

He flicked the ashes from his cigarette.  “I should be capture by ze damn ranger?  Ees a idea!” He roared with mirth.  “No, no!  Long time I ’ave fix zat.”

“But how?  How do you work it?” Gilbert inquired, his brain in a tumult.

“I pick from my men ze best rider.  I make ’im for look like me.  So when ze ranger wish for chase me, ’e go while I remain be’ind.  It save me moch hexercise.  Say, why you no kill ’im yourself?  You got ze gun.”  Lopez was mystified.

“I—­I couldn’t,” Gilbert answered.

“Ees no difference from us three—­me, you, and ’im,” Lopez explained.  “You is afraid for kill.  ’E was afraid for die.  Me, I am afraid for neizer!  Now zen, what you do, eh?” He patted Gilbert on the shoulder.

“I don’t know,” the young man said.  “We’ve got to go somewhere.”

Lopez was firm.  “No.  You shall stay right ’ere in your ’ome sweet ’ome.”

“But I’ve lost the place.”  He pointed to the little clock that was ticking out its relentless minutes.  “It’s after eight o’clock.”

“No,” said Lopez, definitely.  “For at ’alf-past six-thirty, what I do?  I tell you.  When I am chase by ze ranger what I follow, I sink for myself eight o’clock she soon come.  Suppose moggidge of my frands he meet wiz accident?  Would never do!” He waved his arms.  “So I goes and pays ’er myself!” He handed Gilbert a paper.

Gilbert could not believe his eyes.  “What’s that?” he wanted to know.

“Ees recipe,” Lopez affirmed.

“But where did you get the money?” Gilbert asked, incredulously.

Lopez winked.  “Ees all right.”

“Where did you get it?” the American persisted.

“I rob ze bank,” said Lopez; and thought nothing more of it.

“Robbed the bank?” Gilbert was wide-eyed now.

“Sure!  Ees what I go to town for.”

Jones turned away.  “It’s all off again!”

The bandit was discouraged.  “No!  I am become business man what are tired myself!  I take ze money to lawyer what are frand for me.  ’E go to ze judge what ’ave come ’ome planty dronk.  ’E tell ze judge you send ’im for pay ze moggidge.  Judge say sure, and ’and ’im recipe.  Ees all right.”  And the bandit, convinced of his logic, strutted to the fireplace, and threw his cigarette away.