One by one they gleamed with the last fitful sparks of dying fire and then went out.

The two sentinels, one to the right and one to the left, had sat down now upon fallen logs, but Alvarez knew that they were still watching with care--they would not dare to do otherwise.

All the rest but Alvarez slept.
The Spaniard looked at Braxton Wyatt as he lay in his blanket, one arm under his head, and his lip curled.

He despised him, and yet he could be very useful.

He would have to work with him and he must treat him at least with superficial politeness.