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"Had to feed 'em and have 'em ready for to-morrow night. If we don't find the document here, we'll screw its hiding-place out of that dirty greaser if we have to use a cord on his head Indian-fashion. Anyway it ought to be about this office. Martinez didn't know you had learned about it from Saurez. He'd never let go a paper like that until he had to." "I think you're right there," Vorse said.
"Haven't told you yet," said Pat, presently, "but we picked up that Mexican this evening who was trying to start a drunk Christmas Eve. It was while you were at Sarita Creek. Saurez told me he had sneaked into camp and meant mischief. Some of us caught him behind the commissary tent with a can of oil, just ready to fire the camp."
"Will he admit them?" "I've outlined exactly what we must have deeds to his property and an acknowledged statement of the Joseph Weir and James Dent affair, supplementing the Saurez affidavit, which by the way he at first thought we did not possess but which an account of what happened last night in the mountains and your recovery of the same" Pollock's eyelid dropped for an instant towards Weir "convinced him of.
Just some kid who happened to drift by at the minute and look in, and there's not one chance in a million he's anywhere around these parts yet. He would have blabbed long ago to some one if he had been; don't figure him in, he's lost." "Saurez isn't, though." At this Vorse put in a word. "He saw more than one killing in those days when he was roustabout for me. It was only one more to him.
I've Saurez' deposition and I've the man who was the boy looking in the back door there that day thirty years ago and saw you shoot Dent, and he'll go on the stand against you." A stillness so profound that one could hear the tiny insects hovering about the lamps succeeded this statement.
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