"Iver since, sor, an' doin' finely, wid the blessin' o' God.I own that place," pointing to the stable, "an' four as good turnouts as ye'd ax to sit behind.""I'm glad of it," said Gerald heartily."I like to hear of the boys from the old neighborhood doing well.""Won't ye step inside, sor, an' thry a drop of something? Ye must be choked intirely wid the dust.""I don't care if I do," answered Gerald."I feel pretty much as if I'd swallowed a limekiln."A minute later the two were seated in Denny's own particular room, where Gerald washed the dust from his throat with some capital bottled beer, while his host paid attention to a large demijohn which contained, as he informed the journalist in an impressive whisper, "close on to a gallon of the real ould stuff."Their conversation extended far into the night; but long before they separated Gerald induced Denny to despatch his Mexican helper, on a good mustang, to the Ugarte ranch, bearing to Senor Vincenza Mr.Ffrench's card, on which were penciled the words: "Please come over to San Luis as soon as possible.Most important business."For the tale told by the ex-postboy, his change of residence and present prosperity, seemed to throw a curious light on the Drim churchyard mystery.
Senor Vincenza appeared the following morning just as Gerald had finished breakfast.The ranchero remembered the representative of the Evening Mail and greeted him cordially, expressing his surprise at Gerald's presence in that part of the country.The Spaniard evidently imagined that this unexpected visit had some bearing on the recently decided lawsuit, but the other's first words dispelled the illusion.
"Senor Vincenza," Ffrench said, "I have heard a very strange story about your sister, and I have come to ask you for an explanation of it."The young Spaniard changed color and looked uneasily at the journalist.